When My Voice Has No Song

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?

My tears have been my food day and night,
while men say to me all day long, “Where is your God?”

These things I remember as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go with the multitude,
leading the procession to the house of God,
with shouts of joy and thanksgiving among the festive throng.

Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you
from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.

Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

By day the LORD directs his love, at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.

I say to God my Rock, “Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?”

My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long, “Where is your God?”

Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

On Monday, I spent three hours at the hospital having an ultrasound on my neck and a barrage of blood work. All went well at the appointments, although the ultrasound was painful. I wanted to feel happy about that. I wanted to be thankful. I stopped by to visit a friend, a quick hug, a few moments of sharing life, telling each other stupid jokes to make us laugh. But as I left her, all I could feel was the overwhelming sense of fear and dread, the “what if?” of the results of it all. Until…As I began the drive home, the sun was just beginning to set, and I found myself almost intoxicated by the beauty of Fall in the Valley. And my lament turned to worship.

Today I learned that there is indeed an enlarged node in my neck, and I have a biopsy scheduled next week. I caught my breath as she told me and felt as if the rug had been pulled out from underneath me. How many times do I have to experience this before the surprise of it all stops impacting me? I called my Bri, and the heaviness in his voice broke my heart. I called my parents and wept, and when Daddy got on the phone and I heard the break in his voice, I could bear it no more.

It’s the “not again” of it all. It may be clear, and I am working to not borrow tomorrow’s troubles. But I know the biopsy will be painful. Very painful. I’ve had three before, so I know I can do this. But I don’t want to do this. I want to just curl up in a ball and cry. Then I want to jump up and fight. And I wrestle with this manic flux of emotions.

I know a large part of my struggle is an exhaustion that is all-encompassing. I am not sleeping well. I am wrestling the dark thoughts and fears that wash over me; chanting prayers all through the night. I am in pain from the swollen node. I am in pain and have surgery scheduled in November on my abdomen to repair a hernia and clean up scar tissue from my other surgeries. I am still in pain from treatment, even from chemo years ago. I am spiritually weary from the battle… mentally, emotionally, physically.

Y’all these days are hard. I am a roller coaster of emotions. Satan wants to rob me of all joy. He doesn’t want me to see the beauty in each day, to be grateful, to grow. He wants the ugliness of cancer to impact me not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually and mentally. He doesn’t want me to live life. He wants me self-consumed and miserable.

Psalm 42 isn’t a happy psalm. He is in depression. He is struggling with questions. He is in agony. He is battling the enemy.

BUT

He is fighting for hope.

He still sings.

He preaches truth to himself.

And so I follow his example and I preach truth to myself. I may feel alone as I face the biopsy, but He will never abandon me. I may be exhausted, but He is my strength. I may feel like a failure, but He will never fail me. I may buckle under the weight of the blows of the enemy, but He is my shield. I may let go to steady myself, but He will never release His hold on me. I may not be able to sing the harmony, but He is singing over me with a melody more beautiful than any on earth. I may feel death in my body, but He has conquered death. I may feel as if life is against me, but He is FOR me.

And like the psalmist, I turn to truth. I read His Word–sufficient for all things. And I sing my song of desperation, how “when my soul is downcast, and my voice has no song, for mercy, for comfort, I wait for the Lord.”

And like the psalmist, I am fighting for hope.

And hope does not disappoint.

(I covet your prayers, friends. The enlarged node is deep in my neck, and the biopsy is scheduled next week. My Brian, my steady love, is out of town the day it’s scheduled, so I am working to move it so he can be there. Would you ask God for no cancer? Would you pray for my heart as I wait? For my family? The children do not know at this point. And would you pray for my fear to not consume me? Our hope is in HIM alone.)

24 responses to “When My Voice Has No Song”

  1. Oh Angie, I’m praying for comfort for you and your family. 💗

    Like

    1. Thank you, Kelly. You have no idea how much it means to know others care and are praying.

      Like

  2. Praying for all of your intentions my dear friend. Offering up my anxieties over my Dad (he started Chemo, in pill form, on Saturday) for you, asking the Lord for no more cancer, for strength and peace in the waiting. Those words “in the waiting” bring a song to mind: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7X-Hmfngdc (Julie Carrick: In the Waiting)

    Like

    1. Sobbing through this song, friend. Thank you. Yes, past the pain, our God reigns. Thank you for your prayers and your love. Praying for you, too… and your dad. I’m so sorry.

      Like

  3. So sorry you are going through this! We are praying for you!

    Like

    1. Thank, Sherry. Love y’all so much!

      Like

  4. Praying, Dear One, for healing. And for God to sustain you body, mind, and soul. Know that this grieves His heart too.

    Like

    1. Thank you, sweet Lori, for encouraging my heart.

      Like

  5. Angie, my heart is just sinking reading this. I want to scream, “NOT AGAIN!” for you! Know that I praying for all the things you mentioned. I hope that it is comforting to know that your many friends are lifting you to the Father and He is the God Who Sees.

    Like

    1. Thank you so much for your words. For your honesty. For your prayers. For truth.

      Like

  6. Angie,

    We are praying for you!
    We are praying for Brian and the kids!
    We are praying for your family!

    May He be your strength!

    Like

    1. Thank you, Jamie. You prayers encourage.

      Like

  7. oh, praying. such heaviness, friend. praying!

    Like

    1. Yes. Such heaviness. Thank you for bearing this weight with us.

      Like

  8. Angie, I am so sorry to read about this, and I am saying “Not again..No.” You have shown your strength time and time again – you are a warrior and you will get through this! Believe! Thinking of you, Brian, and your entire family. Snuggle with your children tonight and let them comfort your heart.

    Like

    1. Thank you, Molly…His grace is sufficient. I’m so thankful he’s given my family to me as a source of comfort.

      Like

  9. Angie,

    I’m looking at the vista that surrounds this text box. It reminds me of our future home on the New Earth. Sitting in a beautiful field that trumps the beauty of this photo, around a campfire, reunited with those that have already gone ahead of us, and LOOKING BACK on all of this mess, and being able to see the glorious meaning of it all. I echo everyone else’s sentiments, and I also am praying that God will overwhelm you with the HOPE in the absolute reality of our future home and perfect peace. I’m looking forward to that day with you and your family.

    Like

    1. Yes, Jonathan. One day. All will fade away and we will see the glorious meaning of it all. Thank you for your prayers.

      Like

  10. Angie-I love you and am praying.

    Like

    1. Thank you, Renee. I love you, too.

      Like

  11. My precious Angie,

    I am praying for you and your family. Thanks be to God that He hears us and will answer us and that we have Jesus ever interceding for us before the Father.

    We are constantly being transformed from one image to another image in Christ. the roots of our being going down deep in Him and growing up into Christ even His head. What a place to be rooted! Praise be to God He knows everything about us and is our conforter.

    Walking with you in newness of life.

    Love and blessings,
    Judie

    Like

    1. I love you, Judie. Thank you for your constant encouragement.

      Like

  12. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and noto harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you ask me with all your heart. I WILL be found by you.”

    Like

    1. 🙂 Love you, Michelle.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: