“The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.”
(Zephaniah 3:17, ESV)
There is a melody that I often hear, a song drifting in on wisps of wind that tells me I’m not worth it. I have no value. I’m ugly, weak, selfish, and full of pride. I often let that ugly song play in my head. I listen to its notes, memorizing the way they climb the staff, and plunge unexpectedly. I have become very familiar with its tune, trusting that this melody defines me.
It is my story.
But I’ve come to learn that there is a song that is deeper still. A new song, sung by my Lord himself. He sings this over me in the darkness…
“Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
and come away.O my dove, in the clefts of the rock,
in the crannies of the cliff,
let me see your face,
let me hear your voice,
for your voice is sweet,
and your face is lovely.”(Song of Solomon 2:13b-14)
When the old tune threatens to overwhelm my senses and push all others out with it’s chaotic dissonance, I quietly rehearse the one I’m learning to sing. It’s His song for me…
It is who He made me to be.
“You are lovely, compassionate, and gentle of heart”
The crescendo builds as I listen…
“You are worth more than silver or gold. You are brave, courageous, and wise!”
And then the climax…
“You are my masterpiece, deeply loved, chosen, fearfully and wonderfully made!”
And I stand in awe. I am His. He is mine.
I’ve heard this melody before.
Long ago, we took a vacation to the outer banks of North Carolina. Every day, we would walk out to the beach and play in the surf, the taste of saltwater lingering on our tongue, and the scent of sea air wafting through our noses. Those were such beautiful days of delight. One particular day, I remember the three of us laughing and playing in the surf—my mom, my nephew, and me. The water was warm, and the surf was strong, but not overwhelming. As we stood there, chest-deep in the water, foam swirling around us as we jumped with the waves, I felt such joy. The sea rose and fell around us in a kind of rhythm, and for a moment it felt as though all of creation was rejoicing. And as we played with joyful abandon, I sensed the delight of my Savior and Friend as He drew near. The notes of His song toward me played in a sweet melody—another gentle refrain weaving its way into my soul, countering the song I had so often sung to myself.
In recent years, the quieter, harsher tune has often played in my heart. But when I think back to that day in the waves, I remember how He sang over me there—and slowly, the song within me begins to change, countering the familiar, weary one I had long carried in my heart.
And I find myself singing along.