I shall not Want

“From the love of my own comfort
From the fear of having nothing
From a life of worldly passions
Deliver me O God.”

The words arrest me.
I pause and lean up against the cold kitchen counter, and tears sting my eyes.
I’m fine.
Really.
But they sliced past my busyness and made me stop.

“…From the need to be understood
And from a need to be accepted
From the fear of being lonely
Deliver me O God
Deliver me O God.”

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As a wife to a gifted, and busy man,
I am invited to view my times without him as an offering,
or a theft.

The long days of teething children or the challenges of prepositional phrases and writing letters neatly, it is easy to feel haggard and stranded in the ocean of parenting alone.
Stranded.
Abandoned.
Even when I know it is not true, the lies whisper sinister words.

I look out the window at the shower of yellow leaves dancing toward the ground,
of piles begging to be raked and jumped in.

How can life be lonely when filled with so much noise?
How is it possible to feel alone when nursing every few hours,
with little hands pulling on my skirt as I make supper?

Deliver me from the fear of this, oh Lord.

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It’s the fear that threatens to squeeze the life out of today.
To steal the joy from the little moments that are meant to be so carefree.

“…And I shall not want, no, I shall not want
When I taste Your goodness, I shall not want
When I taste Your goodness, I shall not want.”

“…From the fear of serving others
Oh, and from the fear of death or trial
And from the fear of humility
Deliver me O God
Yes, deliver me O God.”

But it is here in the vulnerability, in the being broken, that we are multiplied.
That the miracles happen.
It’s once the grain is crushed beyond recognition that bread can be made,
and given to countless hungry souls.

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“…And I shall not want, no, I shall not want
When I taste Your goodness I shall not want
No, I shall not want, no, I shall not want.”

I feel that sigh rising to my lips from a dissatisfied heart, and I’m ashamed.
Ashamed that I still feel angry about mopping.
That drawers left open annoy me.
I just washed these jeans two days ago.
The same old shoes are kicked off in the laundry room, just after I put them away.
One thing about motherhood that catches my breath again and again
is the mundaneness of it.

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Do I project the moments of turbulence my own heart feels to those around me?
Do I want my children to feel like burdens?
My husband needs a helpmeet, not a nagging, dissatisfied wife.

From the fear of humility.
The words haunt me. Is it really so hard to be humble?
To be honest about my needs and failures?

In the places of my deepest need.
In my seasons of giving, from sun up to sun down.
In the moments when my own heart staggers in my need, yet lunch needs to be made.
These are the moments when we taste His goodness.

“…When I taste Your goodness I shall not want
When I taste Your goodness I shall not want
I shall not want
I shall not want.”

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These are the moments when we taste His goodness.
And we shall not want.

Songwriters: Audrey Assad / Bryan Brown

Photo Credits to grettagraphy.com

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4 thoughts on “I shall not Want

  1. As always, your honest, soul searching words cut straight through the fog of all the busy doing, and lifts my eyes to Jesus. Thank you, Melissa!

  2. Dear Melissa. Thanks for sharing your writing. You do so know how to put all our feelings/ thoughts into spoken, out loud, words. I love the hope traced through all your words. As I read, I smile. It seems we still have so much in common, although it’s been years since we’ve last talked. Maybe one day, we’ll meet again. I hope we do.☺️

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