Yet, What Can I Give?

I’d no intention of writing or sharing any additional blogs over the holiday, given the limited time with which to do so.

But, something struck a chord within me this morning as I sat comfy by the fire with my Christmas blend coffee, and Jeremiah on my lap.

Well, the Bible and the book of Jeremiah that is.

I was suddenly reminded of a video that I made five years ago, during our imposed lockdown and separation from friends and family. 

Well, forced to separate from life as we knew it.

I was also separated from the hundreds of elementary students I taught music to and was painstakingly trying to build a plane as it was being flown; teaching virtually, using apps that were still under construction.

I contacted a mother about coming into her home to record her two daughters (two of my students from the school) and she was very supportive of my vision; to record the girls and make a video for the virtual world I was teaching at the time.

What set this mother apart from many was her faith that God was looking after us and there was nothing to fear; hence allowing me to enter into her home, void wearing a mask.

Additionally, during this time, I was living with my mother in Peterborough and would walk along the beautiful nature paths and pray on a daily basis.

The scene that I captured during one of those walks seemed apropos as the visual for the final video; simple and serene in its display.

Just what the world around me seemed to be crying for.

Back to this morning…

As I was reminded of the song we recorded five years ago, I searched on YouTube for it and sat listening, with tears in my eyes.

The thing is, I have not been able to shed tears for a few years now.

Well, it has been difficult to allow myself to, that is.

Last night, one of my dear friends asked me how I was feeling.

We’d not spoken in a few months, so there was much to catch up on.

One of those things pertained to my health and the chronic pain in my shoulders; mainly on my left side. 

She asked if I was “holding onto trauma”, and I assured her that I was praying and asking God to search my heart, my body, my everything and make me aware of anything I might have been holding onto.

In so doing, I would release it back to Him while forgiving the transgressor.

She then asked a poignant question: “Do you cry?”

I was forthright with her and told her that I haven’t allowed myself to cry, as I feel that when I do it’s a form of “giving up hope.” Or simply, giving into a sense of hopelessness.

She quickly convicted me with this loving message (and I paraphrase here): “It’s healing, when we cry. It releases those things we need to let go of.”

How this relates to my recollection of a song from five years ago is not only the emotional impact it had on my heart, but the final words sung in the song: “What can I give Him? Give my heart.”

These words come with a powerful double-edged-sword of the spirit.

As I release some of those things I have been carrying upon my shoulders back to God and the grace that returns in so doing, I am also surrendering the gift of faith back to the Father.

Faith that “[He keeps] track of all my sorrows. [He has] collected all my tears in [His] bottle. [He has] recorded each one in [His] book.” (Psalm 56:8, NLT)

I urge you, during this very heart and head challenging season, to consider the very question as posed rhetorically in the song: What can [you] give Him? Give [your] heart.

If you have not yet done so, I can attest to the beauty that He will return to you when you do; a gift that will last well beyond this season’s packages wrapped beneath the trees, flowing out and into the hearts of those you encounter along that path of faith and surrender.

Much love,

Paula