All of my life,I start again with these lyrics, because they ring so true.
In every season,
You are still God:
I have a reason to sing;
I have a reason to worship.
All of my life
Every single day, every single second, He is good. From the moment I fall asleep until the [few] hours later when the buzzing of my phone brings me back into waking, what more can I scream but words of praise? You are good. You are love. You are provider, protector, planner, author, perfector, everything.
In every season
In the midst of waiting for the bus in the rain after wandering for many a minute around the residential streets of Queen Anne attempting to find that ellusive brick building of the library;
in the midst of sitting on a couch, phone cupped tightly in anxious fingers, imagining two beautiful souls reading rhyming clues and running to various familiar locations to act like fools;
in the midst of screaming rounds of Scattergories, impromptu punch making, Spanish films, and sneaking off the brother floor;
in the midst of moments of crippling doubt whilst standing in a congregation, thoughts that make me want to melt into the floor and never pray again;
in the midst of sunshiney and perfect time walking through booths of typewriters, organic fruit, and old books;
in the midst of hours of reading and nothing crossed off the to-do list;
in the midst of moments of oh shit, what do we do now?;
in the midst of sitting in the hallway, surrounded by UCOR materials, listening to Rhapsody in Blue (and the Glee soundtrack coming from the bathroom), trying to write words that can convey thoughts that are so much bigger than words can hold [I love you. You amaze me. Thank you for being in my life. You are so great. Keep holding on.];
in the midst of trying to encourage, and always feeling inferior.
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
Um, You are God, even when I'm flipping out, even when I'm stressed about school, even when bills are passing and countries are rattled and roommates are bawling on the other side of a wall and the church is segregated and not Your body and there are no answers to how we're supposed to fix anything... You are God. You are good. You hold us. You have so much more in Your hands, and we are blind and small minded and need to just hold on to You, trusting that it will all be amazing.
I have a reason to worship
Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodnes. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self Control.
He lives in me.
I could not be more at peace.