Replacing the Soundtrack

For a long time, the song I considered to be the “theme song” for my life, has been Even If by MercyMe. It carried me through some hard seasons. Cancer. Fear. Uncertainty. Learning to trust God when life didn’t look the way I wanted it to.

That song met me in a place where the goal was to have faith deep enough to honestly say: ‘God, even if You don’t answer the way I hope, You are still good’.

I wanted to be able to say, “It is well with my soul,” regardless of the circumstance, because I was secure in my trust in God. I thought about Horatio Spafford, who wrote It Is Well With My Soul after unimaginable loss; who struggled with so much more than I. The death of his son from scarlet fever, the destruction of his wealth in the Great Chicago Fire, and soon after the loss of his four daughters in a shipwreck. If he could still cling to God through that kind of grief… if Job could remain faithful through suffering and loss… I wanted that kind of peace too.

I can’t say that I’ve achieved that goal, but I believe I’ve grown closer to it. Admittedly, it is a lot easier to feel grounded when cancer isn’t knocking at the door, and when those I love are safe and warm, and cared for. I’m aware of that. So, I will continue to pursue this kind of faith and peace in God. However lately, I’ve also realized that this is no longer the central need that I need to focus on, and I’ve felt a shift happening in my heart, and a change with where I want my life to point toward.

Now, I feel the need for a new theme song. Songs that are currently striking a chord in my soul are:

·         Different by Micah Tyler 

"I don't wanna spend my life, stuck in a pattern, and I don't wanna gain this world but lose what matters. And so I'm giving up, everything because I wanna be different. I wanna be changed 'til all of me is gone and all that remains is a fire so bright the whole world can see that there's something different."

·       First by Lauren Daigle

"Before I bring my need I will bring my heart. Before I lift my cares I will lift my arms. I wanna know You, I wanna find You in every season, in every moment"

·      Only Jesus by Casting Crowns 

"Jesus is the only name to remember... I don't want to leave a legacy, I don't care if they remember me; Only Jesus... I've only got one life to live, I'll let every second point to Him."

All songs leading to a posture that is so different from the one I naturally drift toward.

My instinct is usually to come to God wanting answers first, or relief, comfort, clarity, and to have my needs and wants met.

But these songs keep redirecting my attention back to something deeper: 

Do I actually want God Himself first? Not just His help or provision, and not just His rescue, but Him.

Christianity is not about using God to build a comfortable life. It is about knowing Him, building relationship with Him, becoming more like Christ, and surrendering ourselves to His purposes. And I often don’t that well.

I wrestle with wanting approval and control over outcomes, in wanting what I want when I want it, with forgetting I don’t actually see the whole picture.

Faith That Actually Trusts God

Recently, I listened to a sermon from Justyn Reese called How Do I Share My Faith? and a quote from Martin Luther stood out to me: “Faith is a reckless, daring confidence in God.”

Real faith can often feel reckless. Not in a foolish sense, but reckless in the sense that it trusts God enough to obey Him without knowing how everything will unfold. Without fear of what others may think or say. And honestly, this is where I feel stretched.

During my cancer journey, Even If became deeply personal to me because it reflected so much of my anxiety and fear. That song helped me to redirect my mind to trusting in God though all of it. It was a reminder on replay to accept that His goodness was not dependent on getting the outcome I wanted, but that He is good regardless of my circumstances or ability to understand. I was learning to anchor my faith not in outcome, but in the character of God.

Recently I read a prayer from a book by Corrie Ten Boom (another person who knew real and deep suffering yet remained steadfast in her faith) and these words resonated with me: “Your nearness is my heart’s desire; I set myself apart for Your holy purposes.”

I am not there, not even close, but that is the goal and what I want my life to move toward. Not merely asking God to calm my fears, and to help me fulfill my hearts desires, but asking Him to use my life for His purposes.

Faith says:

• I will follow Jesus even when it costs me.
• I will trust Him even when I don’t understand.
• I will speak truth even when it’s uncomfortable.
• I will serve even if nobody notices.
• I will let God use my story.

Because I truly believe that God has a plan for it all. Not that every painful thing is good, or that suffering is beautiful in its own way, but that God wastes nothing. (And that is an important distinction, though one for another day. If you want to know more on this, watch this Instagram reel from @jonaheisenschenk: https://www.instagram.com/reels/DTrLsoYj_pG/).

God uses our suffering and scars, our weaknesses and brokenness. And often, those become the exact places where we can look another hurting person in the eye and honestly say: “I see you. I’ve been there too.”

Your Story Matters

Justyn Rees also said: “Your story is the most powerful tool in your arsenal.”

I think many Christians underestimate how God can use our testimonies. We think our stories are too messy, or too simple. Maybe too hypocritical, or dirty. Perhaps just too ordinary.

But God consistently uses imperfect people and imperfect stories to point others toward Himself.

I am far from perfect, and definitely ordinary, but I have seen God’s faithfulness in ways that I cannot deny. God’s shown up for me in suffering, through motherhood, and community, through healing and fear, and through seasons where I had nothing left except dependence on Him. And I have been truly blessed.

What I Want My Life to Say

Another part of this shift came from something said in that same sermon about evangelism. Preacherman Rees made a comment about not wanting to simply “float off to heaven on a little pink cloud” while friends and loved ones remain behind. That convicted me. 

It can be easy for Christians to see faith as something personal and private, to focus on our own comfort and salvation. All the while becoming strangely passive about the people around us, not because we don't care, but because sharing our faith can feel uncomfortable and vulnerable.

But if I really believe Jesus is who He says He is… if I really believe eternity matters… then I don't want to live as though faith is my own private lifeboat, while those I love remain far from Him.

I don’t want to stand before God one day knowing I stayed quiet because sharing my faith felt awkward, and unconvenient. I regret the many times I have not done this well.

Fear of man is real and it’s loud. It can be paralysing. 

What will people think of me? Will they laugh? Will they dismiss me? Will they judge me? Will they pull away? 

And even harder: What if I say something imperfectly? What if my life, what if I, in all my messiness, confuses someone about Jesus instead of drawing them toward Him?

The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians: who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.” ~ Brennan Manning

I don’t want my life to misrepresent Christ. I don’t want my silence when I should speak, or my compromise when I should stand, to become a barrier for someone else seeing Him clearly.

I don’t want my life to simply be about feeling spiritually safe myself. I want my life to point people toward the hope I’ve found in Jesus. Not perfectly or aggressively, not with rehearsed speeches. But with sincerity, and by demonstration in how I live each day. Because I know that what Christ offers is infinitely better than anything this world can give.

At the end of my life, I don’t want the summary to be: She was accomplished, she was comfortable, she was admired and well-liked.

I want it to be: She loved and trusted Jesus, and she pointed people to Him. That’s it. That's my goal. I'm far from it, but I'll work on it.

Maybe that’s why the soundtrack has changed, because God is changing me too.

I’ll end with a question, lifted directly from Justyn Rees’s above sermon (though you'll have to listen to the sermon to get the context):

“What do you want Jesus to do for you?” 

Tell me, and I’ll ask Him.