Our pastor has been inviting musicians within our church body to record and share songs with the congregation, and a few weeks ago, it was my turn.
I had written this song a month or so before he asked, for a friend who had been diagnosed with cancer and was just beginning treatment. But I have noticed that songs and poems in particular often mean one thing to me when I write them, but then take on an entirely difference shape once they’re finished—as though I thought we were building a really big sandbox, and God knew all along we were framing a house.
This song has that quality more than any others—it became a prayer I sang during those first weeks, as things around our state began closing and we started to understand that a white-coated savior wasn’t going to swoop in with a vaccine and make this all go away. When our pastor called and asked if I’d be interested in recording a song for our church—now worshiping in various rooms throughout our county—I knew exactly which song I would share.
I want to share it with you, too.
For You, Lord
You are my light and
my salvation—
what shall I fear?
You are the stronghold
of my life—
of what shall I be afraid?
Not of sickness or death,
suffering, fear, or shame.
Nothing can separate
me from your love
or remove from me
your grace.
You have said, “Seek my face,”
and so, O God,
you alone will I pursue.
But you know me, God,
how I go astray—
keep me close to you.
All the days of my life,
may I never know
a day apart from you.
You are my shelter,
my refuge,
and I will cling to you.
I will wait for you, Lord
When we reach those doors,
my hand in yours—
what, Lord, shall I say?
But the door long barred
swings open for
the passkey of your name.
You clothe me in your garments
of goodness,
mercy, peace, and joy;
you say, “Child of mine,
come inside—
enter and enjoy.”
I will wait for you, Lord
