I know I've mentioned this before in another blog, but I feel like it's important enough to share again.
We listen to songs every day, and sometimes I wonder how often we really stop and think about the words we're singing. Especially as Christians. We sing about how awesome God is, how faithful He is, and the power of His name. And sometimes those songs mean something entirely different to us because of what we've experienced in life.
I have a group of songs saved on YouTube under "Every Morning." And pretty much every morning, as I'm getting dressed, I play them.
Yes, I know I could make a playlist on Apple Music or something, but for whatever reason, I just like having them there. There's something about starting my mornings worshiping with CeCe Winans, Brandon Lake, and Phil Wickham.
Over time, I've added songs and moved them around. I wasn't trying to arrange them in some particular order. I think I just arranged them in the order my heart needed to praise Him.
And some mornings, I think those songs begin as a conversation with God. But somewhere along the way, that conversation becomes worship, and sometimes I can hardly get the words out.
One of those songs is "I Know a Name" by CeCe Winans and Brandon Lake.
There's a part where they sing, "I call You Healer."
And every single morning, the first time I get to those words, I can't sing them.
Not because I don't believe them.
It's actually quite the opposite.
I believe them so much that sometimes I can't get the words out.
There's something about that name, Healer, that fills my heart with so much gratitude. I know a Healer. I believe that to my bones and to my core.
And even in one of the saddest seasons of my life, that hasn't changed.
If you've read some of my previous blogs, you know about my sweet friend Paula. I've shared about her illness, the prayers we prayed, and the children we taught together. I've also shared about the truth we clung to during those difficult weeks.
Jesus has power over sickness and death.
I believed that then, and I believe it now.
But I still miss my friend terribly.
And sometimes, when I sing about Jesus being our Healer, all of that comes rushing back. Not just the sadness, but the gratitude. The memories. The joy of knowing who He is, even when life doesn't turn out the way we hoped.
The song continues, reminding me that Jesus is risen, that He reigns, and that He has authority over death.
And something about that just fires up my soul.
By the time the chorus comes around again, I can sing those words.
I can call Him Healer.
I don't know exactly why I can't sing them the first time but can the second. That's just how it happens.
And then there's another song.
Not long ago, while listening to my usual songs on YouTube, I noticed a suggested song by Brandon Lake called "Tear Off the Roof."
I'd never heard it before.
Normally, I don't stop what I'm doing to select another song, but for whatever reason, I did that morning.
And almost immediately, I was reminded of a Sunday in our second grade classroom.
I've shared before about the children who wanted to get Miss Paula to Jesus so He could heal her. They remembered the Bible story about the friends who lowered a paralyzed man through a roof, and they began discussing how we could do the same thing for Miss Paula.
They were completely serious.
One had an idea, and another thought we should do it differently. They were trying to figure out how to get her up there so we could lower her down to Jesus.
I still think it's one of the sweetest things I've ever witnessed.
Those children believed what we'd taught them about Jesus. They believed God's Word was true.
And when I heard that song, I immediately thought of them.
I cried.
But those weren't simply tears of sadness.
There was joy behind them.
Sometimes I don't know how to explain that. I can be missing Paula terribly and, at the very same time, feel such gratitude for those moments we shared and the faith I saw in those children.
There's another part of that song about the power in the hem of Jesus' garment. And that immediately reminded me of the last Bible lesson Paula and I taught together, about the woman who reached out to touch Jesus and Jairus's daughter.
Again, I was reminded of the same truth.
Jesus has power over sickness and death.
It's a truth I've taught children, prayed over people I love, and clung to myself.
And I still believe it.
I don't know that I have some profound explanation for why these particular songs mean so much to me. I just know that they do.
My mornings usually begin with "Where Can I Go," followed by "I Know a Name," "Tear Off the Roof," "What an Awesome God," "Gratitude," and "That's My King."
Some of those songs have been there from the beginning. Others I've added along the way. And I've moved them around because, well, that's how my heart needed to sing them.
Some mornings I'm having a conversation with God. Some mornings I'm singing as loudly as I can. Some mornings I'm crying, and sometimes I think I'm doing all of those things at once.
And I think that's part of what I love about worship.
Those words aren't just something I'm singing along to. They're truths I believe.
Even when my heart hurts.
Even when I don't understand.
Even when I wish things were different.
I still believe every word.
And every morning, when that song gets to the part about Jesus being our Healer, I find myself in the same place.
The first time, I can't quite get the words out.
And then the song continues.
And when those words come around again, I can sing them.
I don't know why it happens that way.
But I know this.
I still call Him Healer.