Hymns, Pregnancy and Doubts

poolpit2I can still visualize every detail in my mind… A full church, organ playing, old… what appeared to be very old, deacons in the front singing songs that sounded like moans coming from their very soul. I particularly remember some of the oldest ones on a Sunday morning, leading the church in devotion, gray hair slicked back and the badge of time on their faces, what seemed to stale suits they have had since 1940 and only take out for Sunday Service.

They had what we called a deacon rock where they would pivot with the beat from their heals to their toes. They would turn their bodies and bend down on one knee leaning on those terribly uncomfortable wooden church pews. And then they prayed. Prayers of faith, conviction, hope and long suffering.

If you haven’t already guessed I grew up in a Black Baptist church. You would think that a young child would snicker at this morning ritual and tire of old men rocking on their toes, moaning about life and God. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Someone how those moaning songs, those hymns that had been sung decades even centuries before I came out, some how the songs bore a hole into my heart. The words, tattooed my mind. The passion with which they were sung inspired me.

Today, scratch that, this week all together has been hard for me. At almost 33 weeks pregnant I spent 5 hours in the hospital monitoring my sweet unborn baby girl. I was released without orders of bed rest, yet I am in intense pain almost every day. Its hard for me to walk and I have contractions hard enough to make me wince. They keep telling me everything is ok but I feel as if someone has strapped a bomb to me. Its ticking away and I have no clue when it will go off. Every day I think OMG she is coming early, I am going to have her on the side of the road! At least it feels that way.

The weight of uncertainty, and constant against, mixed with the fear of the NICU become crippling today. I asked my husband for prayer as I feel like a dark cloud is right on my heals. A couple of tears roll before I get out of my car, another day to drag my legs and hips that betray me down the halls of my office.

And Suddenly a Hymn comes to mind…. One I haven’t sung in ages. One I learned from old men in stale suits.

“I will trust in the Lord”

“I will trust in the Lord”

“I will trust in the Lord”

“Until I die”

A simple song of steadfast hope and reminder of God’s ultimate sovereignty. A moan, a grown, and encouragement in the time of doubt.

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