I can’t be sure of the year this story began, but it must have been around 2008 or 2009 because that’s when the guest song leader at church brought her guitar and sang calming, centering songs during prayer time. She made me think of Norah Jones or Jewel as I settled into the peace of the moment.
I also can’t be sure of where I first found the Psalm, but since I have a distinct memory of it printed on a folded piece of white paper, it was probably on a worship program that I’d brought home.
The verse was a modified NKJV translation of Psalm 130:5-6. It’s a prayer for mercy and forgiveness, and it’s a statement of hope and faith in God and redemption.
“I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word, I do hope. My soul waits for the Lord. More than those who watch for the morning - Yes, more than those who watch for the morning.”
The words resonated with me, and I decided to memorize them. With the guitarist’s style in mind, I created a tune that fit the words, imagining what the psalmist had intended for the song.
My only musical training was in how to sing simple songs for middle school choir, so I just started by humming notes that sounded good. My range was limited, and I kept the melody narrow and easy. I changed a couple of the words to smooth it out and make it flow.
When I was finished, the song became a centering prayer.
My soul waits for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in God's word, I find hope.
My soul waits for the Lord, my soul waits.
More than those who watch for the morning
More than those who watch for the morn’
I sang it to myself, usually at bedtime, over and over. It brought me peace and hope for many years.
A morning sunrise
Part II -- Creation
In March of this year, I began to read the scripture for my daily Lenten devotional. Half way through, I realized it was Psalm 130. I'd forgotten the Scripture reference completely, and my original centering habit had faded and been replaced by other practices. I didn’t recognize it what I was reading until I got to the line, “more than those who watch for the morning.” I inhaled sharply as the surprise hit me. I put my hand over my mouth, enchanted. That’s my song!
I stopped and closed my eyes. The tune I had created at least twelve years ago came back instantly, and I sang it to myself as if no time had passed.
What some may call coincidence here, I saw as a glimpse of the Divine. I took comfort in the memory and in the song’s hopeful message. I sensed I was being called to do something with it, and an unusual idea popped into my head. What if I could record the song?
Without any musical skills, I would need to ask for help. A name immediately came to mind. I’d recently gotten to know the lead vocalist of the church’s band. Kath is a compassionate and kind woman who records spoken voice parts professionally. I felt safe reaching out to her, so I sent her a text and set up a time to visit on the phone.
I explained the song I'd made up and asked if she could put the tune to guitar and sing it for a recording. I waited on the edge of my seat for her response. Was it too crazy? Did she have time to help? Could it even be done?
“Lisa, I’d be honored to help.” Kath’s smooth and relaxed voice calmed me. She asked me to sing it for her a couple of times, and she recorded it over the phone. She wrote down the lyrics as I repeated each line. As a final question she asked, “What do you plan to do with the song?”
“I don’t have anything big in mind. I just want to be able to play it back for myself.” I paused to reflect deeper, but I left unspoken my progressive weakness and difficulties with singing. I imagined Kath's gentle smile as she told me she understood.
Over the next four weeks, Kath worked her magic, collaborating with other musicians, consulting me on an initial draft with minor lyric changes, and diligently solving the puzzle of writing the sheet music and composing the guitar accompaniment.
Just over a month after asking her to take on the project, Kath sent me the final recording. I was excited and nervous as I clicked the play button. I closed my eyes and listened to the ethereal and peaceful tune.
I felt a warmth in my core that reached my soul.
It was exactly how I'd heard it in my mind when I'd imagined it over a decade ago. Kath had taken my creation out of my head and made it a real song. It was beautiful.
Part III -- Completion
On October 25th, my phone rang. When I saw Kath's name, I assumed she was calling about Stephen Ministry, a group for which we both volunteered.
Instead, she explained that in her role with the church band, she'd had a meeting with the pastor about the musical selections for an upcoming Sunday worship. The service would be in honor of All Saints Day where we remember those in the church that have passed away during the last year.
"Pastor Eric asked if I had special music for the service, and I thought of your song. I played a little for him and he loved it."
My face flushed with wonder and surprise.
Kath continued. "Can I have your permission to use your song for worship? It's okay if you want to take time to think about it."
Joy and gratitude rushed in, like someone had opened the tap to full blast. I couldn't speak my answer fast enough to keep up with my mind. And I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had written a song that could be performed.
I managed to grasp words for a reply. "Of course you can use it! Yes! Thank you for your consideration in asking my permission, but I will always say yes to singing it for our church."
Kath thanked me and agreed to be in touch. When I hung up, tears pricked my eyes. I couldn't believe that my song would be shared with others. I felt God's presence in that moment and I was humbled.
On November 7th, I watched the live worship service online. When it was time for communion, I listened as Kath played a slower, instrumental version of my tune.
Then (after waiting through internet technical difficulties) I watched Kath introduce my song and invite the congregation to sing along. My soul was warmed again as the notes permeated the space like tendrils of sweet-smelling incense.
The video starts with Kath singing and playing during communion. My full song with printed lyrics is at the 6 minute mark.
A few days later, the pastor thanked me for my song and told me he'd heard from several parishioners that it was moving and meaningful.
With my hand on my heart, I marveled at the serendipitous course of my song. I was humbled and grateful that God was able to use it for a higher purpose.
Sometimes you need to create what’s on your heart and then offer it up to The Universe. This can magnify your work, and it will place your creation exactly where it’s needed to make a difference.
What's on your heart to create?
How can you stay open to the opportunities make and share it?
I have been doing dialysis over a month for acute kidney failure. Each day labs have been reviewed and checked for progress and each day my kidneys were still not functioning. During the last week, the labs indicated my kidneys were showing signs of waking up. Thursday’s dialysis was postponed followed by Friday’s and Saturday’s. On Sunday, right after viewing church on line, the kidney doctor came in and announced my kidneys had improved enough I no longer needed dialysis. All at once, I smiled, clapped my hands, and my eyes filled with tears of profound gratitude. I was overwhelmed by the positive impact it would have on my plans to come home. However, I still have a big obstacle yet to overcome in healing my severe pressure wounds. This and physical therapy will be my main focus as I look toward discharge. Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers. They’re working! Love, Lisa
I am so thankful to be home. This does not mean it’s been easy. We’ve struggled to set up routines and bring in home health three or four times a week. In addition, I’ve had several appointments with various doctors requiring uncomfortable rides to town and back. I found myself wishing I wasn’t so busy. Then I started thinking about the reason for all my meetings. It was about healing. Isn’t that my goal? So I’ve taken a new perspective of gratitude and responsibility. Healing is my job right now and I’m blessed to be able to do it at home rather than in a hospital. So when I feel like life is too busy I remember my goal and it makes it easier to endure. Where do you find purpose? How can you be grateful for it?
Yes, you read that right. I’m home in my house in Bozeman! After several weeks in the long-term hospital in Billings, I was discharged yesterday. I’m not completely healed, but I’m well enough to be home. When I arrived at the house, I was greeted with flowers in my planters and balloons across my living room, courtesy of my generous family. I felt loved and at peace. It will take me a while to settle in and get into a routine, but the mountain view out my window makes it worth it. Thank you, all, for your continued support and prayers along the way. I look forward to seeing you in person later this summer. Love, Lisa
Three months ago, Shawn and I drove to Rochester, Minnesota planning to stay for a week, maybe two. If you have been following my blog, you know how those plans went awry. With lots of good medical care, hard work and time for healing, I’m finally strong enough to leave the hospital. Due to my pressure sores, transportation has been the sticking point for my release. The social workers here persistently sought a solution. Yesterday I learned that my full medical flight would be funded through one of Mayo Clinic’s programs. I fly out tomorrow! I’m not going home just yet but am traveling to an acute care center in Billings, Montana, a two-hour drive from home. The focus of my stay there will be wound care and physical therapy. I’ll be letting you know my new Montana address soon! As always, thank you for your prayers, support and love. — Lisa
I wanted to give a short update on the progress I've made and the long road ahead to recovery. My heart rate has improved as well as some critical lab numbers. I’m off of all IV medicine, too. I go to dialysis three times a week because my kidneys still aren't functioning. This is the biggest barrier to going home as I need to have the strength to sit in the chair for four hours. This is difficult because I have severe pressure sores on my bottom. I'll require several months of inpatient rehab and we are unsure where that will be. Sometimes I feel hopeless but I'm determined to find bits of beauty and slices of joy amidst the pain. Some days are better than others so I have to remember to be kind to myself and trust that God is writing my story.
An Update From Kara: Lisa is in the Mayo Clinic ICU still, but improving. Over a month ago, she came here for a feeding tube placement. And, after overcoming major complications with internal bleeding and kidney issues, she was all set to go home when about a week ago, she came down with a sepsis blood infection and her body went into septic shock. She was extremely fatigued, her kidneys stopped functioning, she had hypotension (low blood pressure), and a lot of fluid retention. Lisa was very sick, and to be honest, we didn’t know if she was going to make it. Doctors treated Lisa with many life-saving medications (up to eight IV bags hung at one time), several rounds of paracentesis (removing fluid from her abdomen), blood transfusions, and dialysis. The sepsis infection is now gone, her numbers are stable, her fluid retention is much better, her eyes are brighter, her voice has returned, and she’s been able to sit up once or twice a day. Currently, she is still on dialysis...
I’ve graduated out of the ICU (again!). I’m now in a slow holding pattern of waiting for my kidneys to heal and start functioning and also work with physical therapists to regain some of my strength. This last part, physical therapy, is exactly that. It is very physical, taxing my energy to the limit, and is sometimes painful. But I push myself to follow the therapist’s instructions as I know whatever gains I make will assure a better future. My day consists of many visits by medical professionals. They come in one at a time, in pairs or in groups. There always seems to be a line at my door. Your cards, flowers, and facebook comments lift my spirits each day. Many times, it has been your support that I have needed to keep me going. Thank you! Love, Lisa
Hey friends, After a rough week of being very sick in the ICU, I finally graduated yesterday to a regular hospital room! I still have several days of recovery ahead of me but I’m grateful for the positive progress. I appreciate your love and support. It sustains me and gives me comfort. I will write more later. Love, Lisa
A local author and writing coach, Molly Caro May, recently offered a month-long daily writing experience titled In the Middle of It . Her intention is to help you uncover and write your story during this time of Coronavirus and its impact. I joined immediately, eager for a structured outlet and time to journal. In the weeks leading up to yesterday, I was still processing my fear and anxiety ( see my last blog post ). But as yesterday dawned, I could see a light in the darkness. I was in that state of consciousness that's between deep sleep and being fully awake, a half-dreaming-half-reality sense of being - the place where you feel confident, content, and hopeful. For the first time in two weeks, fear was not on my mind. It felt like I was being lifted up and over my worries to see a larger picture. I could see a path winding across the landscape and a rush of energy and motivation urged me to follow it. I smiled and got out of bed, stepping lighter than I had in days. As I ...
The tow rope & chain that gave us hope. Near the end of September, our family decided to make one last camping trip before the frost set in. We were headed on a drive that would take us at least two hours from home. We both had Friday off from work, so we left Thursday evening, about an hour after my mom and dad, who were planning to choose the campsite. When we arrived at the turnoff from the highway, we were met almost immediately by Mom on her ATV. I figured she was ready to lead us to camp, but instead, she informed us that their motorhome had shut down in the middle of the road and it wouldn't start again. They were stuck. This was the first of many opportunities that night that one, or all of us could have started yelling, kicking, cursing or crying out of despair and frustration. I'm not saying we weren't tempted (and maybe we gave in a little) but given the obstacles we faced, it would've been easy to throw up our hands. Here's how the nigh...
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