It's Me, Oh Lord!

She stood in a crowd that usually sits during the singing.  She stood because the words on the page that planted into her heart would not let her stay down.  The words lifted her to her feet.  Desperation maybe?

It's me!  It's me, Oh Lord!

Standing in the need of prayer!

Maybe desperation.  It didn't bother her to be the only one standing because she was not even aware of the other 400 voices singing the same words.

And when others began to really take in those words, they, too, stood to their feet.  That is when this woman with a broken heart started waving her hand in the air.  Yes,  she was desperate.   

It's me!  It's me, Oh Lord!

Standing in the need of prayer!

She needed to be heard by Him.  To be seen by Him.  Held by Him.  

To be picked out of the crowd by Him.

I knew her heartache.  

I also knew the heartache of the young wife who buried her wet face into the neck of her husband as he pulled her in tight.

I knew the heartache of another husband who wonders how long he can hang in there with this marriage, the abuse and neglect.

I knew the heartache of the grandmother far away from sick grandchild and her daughter who seems lost to her.  Of the grandmother who's grandson is in enemy territory, both spiritually and physically.

I knew the heartache of the women whose daughters and grand daughters felt their own ways were better than God's, and the heartache of unwanted diagnosis.

I knew heartache of living with a spouse who constantly belittles.

That old gospel hymn became a heart cry in unison in that church we call Cowboy.  In a church that prides itself in "staying comfortable" so you will keep coming back to be washed by the Word.  It isn't often we stand during a song.  

But this wasn't a song.  It was a desperate, stand to your feet, wave your hand in the air prayer to our Father Who heals, holds, and carries.

Yesterday He saw.  And He held.

Oh, how He held.