The familiar tune hit me during worship this past Sunday. I listened to the opening notes with anticipation of the lyrics to come.
My buddy, who is a lot like a brother to me, began to sing,
"Walking around these walls I thought by now they'd fall But you have never failed me yet Waiting for change to come Knowing the battle's won For you have never failed me yet."
I felt myself moving toward the altar. I am not sure I could have stayed at my seat even if I had wanted to. The pull to worship was too strong. The pull to lay myself at the altar and unburden the weight of life's hardships, disappointments, and sadness was real. Needed. Necessary. As I prayed and cried out to God for things that break my heart, I could hear the congregation singing, like a background soundtrack to my prayers. THIS is CHURCH at its BEST. Unhindered sorrow met with the salve of surrender. My arms lifted in desperation, and praise.
The next thing I felt were supportive hands on my back. I could hear whispered prayers on my behalf. I had no idea who it was. Honestly, I didn't care. A desperate soul desires the prayers of anyone. The troops were rallying. Kind and compassionate souls saw a fellow sister on her knees and were moved to intercede, not just at their seat, but WITH her.
In moments I felt someone else. She gripped my shoulders and began to pray out loud. Immediately tears started to fall. I knew who this was. We do not share the same genes, but she IS a sister no less. She has been with me in this journey for years. She knows the in's and out's of my present situation. Her own life is not absent of fears and worries. In fact, her life is full of them. YET... Here she was....at the altar crying out on MY behalf. Faith needs a family. Sorrow needs to be surrounded and shouldered. Her prayers were bold. She asked God to do things for me. She asked God to remind me, to hold me, to strengthen me, to sustain me. She did not shrink back from the reality of the situation and how hopeless it feels. Nor did she act as if God was distant or weak. She pressed in with her own faith to feed my own. It felt so good to have someone else asking God for answers that seem long forgotten. Her words bolstered me. Her faith made my burden feel lighter. Her love and support silencing the sting of lonlieness felt in recent days. As the song came to a close and her prayer ended we stood and embraced at that altar.
What started out as an act of desperation on my part resulted in a meeting of hope. This is what God does. This is why we need our church body. One day we will no longer deal with sickness, pain, despair, injustice, lonliness, doubt, fear, and the sin that still wants to lead us astray from the One we love. Until then, we have an option. Go to the altar. Collapse there. Cry. Raise your hands to God. Let your guard down. Ask. Beieve. Allow others the joy and privilege of praying for you. Salvation requires the faith of one person. Living a life of faith requires help and support from others.
Psalm 13 "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemy say, 'I have prevailed over him.' lest my foes rejioce because I am shaken. But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, becasuse he has dealt bountifully with me."
