I'm Mendinnng....

I awoke the morning after melting, still in the doldrums. Wanting to tell the whole truth here and avoid pat platitudes; knowing I had to write about the pits because depression among spectrum moms is a real threat, I spewed yesterday's post out as soon as the bus pulled away from the curb.

I was grateful for a couple hours privacy before I had to get dressed and take a new friend to the Healing Rooms today at noon. Although this had been arranged for awhile and I offered to help her with some very big fish to fry, it now seemed providential that I not only escort her but sign up for some intercession myself. As the emotional stew still smoldered in my pot, I thought, "it's a good thing I'm headed there." I need some kind of spiritual IV, directly into my bloodstream. An injection of energy, hope, motivation to lift me outta this rut.

Standing before an accumulating sinkful of dishes calculating how many more days I could leave them, the words--love that wilt not let me go--dropped into my head. Isn't that a hymn? Google, old, antiquated, gag, forget it, wait...Chris Rice version sung by John Michael Talbot, lyrics...Whoa! God is speakin' to me now.

I'd been thinking how far I'd let myself go in the four short days since Allie had left; how few steps separated me down a tunnel from a place I didn't want to be. How my diehard pledge to never let Reid slip into oblivion was in fact, slipping. How a woman overboard cannot throw a lifeline to another.

Alas, someone else holds my line and will not let me go. When I read the specific circumstances in George Matheson, a blind preacher's, life when he wrote the hymn I wanted to cry (again). These tears were a different flavor--of gratitude and awe and being known intimately by an infinite God.

Matheson had lost a fiance because of his blindness and now his sister was leaving him to marry. He had sunk into mental anguish because of recurrent loss and fear about his future. God had him by a tether and deposited the lyrics of that song into his mind for the benefit of generations to come--or at least for me! The very same God who wilt not let him go, wilt not let me go either, or you, or Reid.





Excited, I kept searching. It got even better! Matheson said about the hymn:

My hymn was com­posed in the manse of In­ne­lan [Ar­gyle­shire, Scot­land] on the ev­en­ing of the 6th of June, 1882, when I was 40 years of age. I was alone in the manse at that time. It was the night of my sister’s mar­ri­age, and the rest of the fam­i­ly were stay­ing over­night in Glas­gow. Some­thing hap­pened to me, which was known only to my­self, and which caused me the most se­vere men­tal suf­fer­ing. The hymn was the fruit of that suf­fer­ing. It was the quick­est bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the im­press­ion of hav­ing it dic­tat­ed to me by some in­ward voice ra­ther than of work­ing it out my­self. I am quite sure that the whole work was com­plet­ed in five min­utes, and equal­ly sure that it ne­ver re­ceived at my hands any re­touch­ing or cor­rect­ion. I have no na­tur­al gift of rhy­thm. All the other vers­es I have ever writ­ten are man­u­fact­ured ar­ti­cles; this came like a day­spring from on high.

God orchestrates the planet and delivered a love note to me in my kitchen on the very same day 127 years later (look at that date!) from one bruised heart to another about His promise to never let go. Cosmic, I tell you. My own historic day-after-birthday anniversary commemoration.

Then my "care-receiving" friend pulled up with flowers for me. How did she know? What did she know? She had just sensed and been compelled to buy them! I cried again (so much for stoic). To the Healing Rooms we both went, feeling better already.



The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail. Lamentations 3:21-23

But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. Psalm 13:5

...be content with what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." Hebrews 13:5