I Will Praise You!

 

The sun is up and birds are singing, as I open my eyes this morning, a song in my heart as I greet my living and enduring king, the same song that has echoed in my mind over days and days on end: "I will praise You, I will praise You; I won't let the stones cry, I won't let the stones cry out; I will praise You, something in me has to. I won't let the stones cry, I won't let the stones cry out."

This song by Kim Walker-Smith, "Stones," is one of my daily worship songs, and it holds a special meaning for me, as many of her songs do, as they are pure worship and spontaneous conversation with Jesus. The scriptural reference of the song is from Luke 19 as Jesus is making His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, and the people are singing and shouting in praise and honor to Him. The Pharisees do not like this, so they are urging Jesus to stop these people from blaspheming God, because they do not realize that Jesus is God come in the flesh. Jesus responds to them in this manner:  But He answered and said to them, “I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out.”

Kim begins the song with these lyrics:

 

"Find me in the valley

Standing with my hands held high

The valley will never take my song.

Find me in the desert

Holding onto You for life

The desert will never take my song.

Oh, the desert will never take my song."

 

 

 

I can understand the intensity of the meaning of these words to the singer, as I am so aware of the message of the people as they hailed Jesus that morning in Jerusalem shouting, “ ‘Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!’ Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

 

Many times I have shared with my readers the wisdom my Abba has blessed me in understanding the crucifixion on a personal level. Seeing His hands, His feet, His lashed and broken body, bleeding profusely from flesh torn off in chunks, body bruised and beaten beyond recognition, a crown of thorns pushed deeply into the flesh of his head and brow, blood streaming down his face. His arms are outstretched, and His body is sagging from the weight. It is become increasingly difficult to breathe, and yet, He turns His face to mine, and I see His eyes looking into my face, lifting it as if cupped gently in His hands with His gaze. His eyes are full of pain, but there is something else, a love so deep, so forgiving, and an all-consuming joy. How is it possible?! As He takes the last few moments of life to hold my gaze, there are no words necessary. His love lifts my chin upward to bring my downcast eyes to his, as if an invisible hand holds me as I weep uncontrollably, aware of the horror of this vision. He loves me, forgives me, and He welcomes me home with an embrace so tangible. I crumble to my knees, my head in my hands, crying out to my Savior and Lord. I won't let the stones cry out...!

 

At this point in my walk with the Lord I become aware of so many songs heard on Sunday mornings or in revivals, that were so prevalent in my day. At the end of the message, as the evangelist stands in front of the church, standing level with the people, I can hear the familiar verses: "Just as I am without one plea but that Thou blood was shed for me...." and  "I surrender all, I surrender all; All to Thee, my blessed Savior, I surrender all." The lyrics were sung over and over and over again, drawing repentant hearts home. Sometimes the organ would play for what seemed hours, but we didn't care, as the pastor shepherd continued to send out the invitation.

 

"Stones" continues with these words:

 

 

"Find me with the promise

Dancing where You prophesied

Still shouting of everything You've done

High up on the mountain

I was made to testify

Forever, You will have my song

Oh, forever, You will have my song."

 

 

Once our Savior has welcomed you home, and the understanding is deep in your heart, dancing becomes spontaneous worship. I know, because it's part of my praise and worship as I unashamedly dance before Him. Although my leaps of joy and thanksgiving are not as high as they once were, my Abba knows my praise. And I testify of His great love for me. When I was so undeserving of His forgiveness, so unworthy and ashamed, He lifted me to my feet. Over the years of emotional and physical pain and torment, I praised Him, and He carried me through. Even in my own agony, singing became a release. The words echo in my heart as she sings:

 

 

"The longer the wait, the longer I'll praise

The stronger the pain, the stronger my faith grows

The higher the  need, the higher I'll reach

The greater the cost the more I'll believe for.

 

I will praise You, I will praise You 

I won't let the stones cry, I won't let the stones cry out 

I will praise You, something in me has to. 

I won't let the stones cry, 

I won't let the stones cry out."

 

 

Such a fitting start to my days. Remembering. Thanking. Praising. And although my day begins with tears flowing down my cheeks, they are tears of joy as I begin my day with gratitude. I never want to forget. But one thing is certain, although I may not want the rocks to steal my expression of worship, all of creation rejoices and sings out with me. If you don't believe me, just listen as the sun comes up and the birds sing and frolick in the trees, splashing in the streams. That's worship to our King! Spontaneous and pure!