I’ve written about this song twice, and I probably daren’t write about it again. In this post from 2008 I speak of waking up in a great organ-filled, bombastic mood of strength and happiness:
Today, I’m stuck in that line toward the end about…
“Prone to leave the God I love.”
The humanity in me always pauses on that phrase. I always hear it when singing the lyrics to a song I have sung hundreds of times and memorized so very long ago. Prone to leave God after all these years? How is that possible?
Medical treatments over the past decade have left my brain with adult onset ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) which makes for a great challenge in paying attention and getting things done. You might have heard the term “his mind was wandering for a second,” and that’s more like daydreaming … to stop paying attention for a moment but then being able to jump back into the conversation.
ADHD isn’t like that at all: it’s like the mind is bolting out of the gate and not likely to return to the conversation at hand. It spoils work performance. It puts undue strain on social relationships. It plays complete havoc with being able to show up for appointments on time.
How does that effect the spiritual relationship with one’s Almighty? I think the answer is somewhere in the middle of those two, since I always seem to wander back to the spiritual life at hand.
First remember that we are all humans: we are guys. And as such we do human things. My friend Rev. Tammy speaks eloquently of how our relationship with The Almighty is like a river in that there are the slow, deep sections where one’s boat glides along easily. There’s the rapids where one is holding on to the boat with white knuckled fear of being dashed against the rocks.
And there are the times that the water seems to have run out, and we have to get out of the boat and carry it through the mud to where the water gets wide again.
That’s the way it is.
My mind may wander from one fantastic idea to the next, always wandering away at that idea phase. My concentration may want to become impatient and wiggly like a toddler who doesn’t want to sit still in church. I get like that with God now: wander away to something sparkly and entertaining, and then eventually toddle back and sit still.
This is the cycle of our relationship with spirituality, if the relationship is true. Ebb and flow. Zealot one moment and Peter denying Jesus three times the next moment. I have learned not to feel sad about the wandering off on some tangent and forgetting about God because I don’t notice that I’ve done it until I come wandering back. And then it’s like:
“Sorry about wandering off like that.”
“I’m sorry, too, boy. I see you had a rough time. I’m glad you’re back.”
“I love you, God.”
“Yeah, I know. And I love you too, boy.”
And from there, the story – and the travels – continue.
Keep the faith!
Come Thou Found of Every Blessing
Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise;
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above;
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of thy redeeming love.
Here I raise mine Ebenezer,
Hither by thy help I come;
And I hope by thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed his precious blood.
O to grace, how great a debtor,
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let they grace, Lord, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to thee;
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it,
Seal it for thy courts above.