We have been discussing the song or hymn, Tenderly Calling, in the last two newsletters. We are ready now to dive in a little deeper.

Again, my favorite version is by the Bluegrass band Hot Rize, on their album Take It Home. You should be able to find it on any music streaming service. Please don’t keep yourself from listening to it or listening again. The melody adds so much to these words.

I mentioned last time just how transparent, honest and humble Fanny Crosby was when she wrote this hymn. Pride is so much a part of our fallen nature, that when someone asks us, “How have you been doing?” – it’s the most natural of reflexes to thoughtlessly respond with, “Oh, I am doing well . . . and you?”

Now, that might not be the best example, for often folks are not completely sincere when they greet you in that way. It can be just a very polite way to say hello.

But I wonder if the greater truth is that we all struggle with being honest and transparent in our lives. It is much easier to pretend that all is well. We might be tempted to be more honest when things are not going well, but we may doubt if the other person really wants a real answer.

But I think the greatest problem is that we all struggle to be more transparent because of pride, because of insecurity, because of our fear of what others may think of us, that they may judge us — and all of the shame we can so easily feel for feeling less than, for feeling like failures, for not measuring up. If we could only be honest with ourselves more of the time, we might find the humility to be honest with others about just how much we doubt ourselves in our day to day lives.

What did Fanny Crosby say in the first verse?

Sometimes when I’m feeling lonesome, and no one on earth seems to care
I’m all by myself in the darkness, with no one and nothing to share

Wow. “No one on earth” seems to care? That she’s lonesome, that she needs someone to care for her, to love her? No one? Not one person on the whole planet?

She continues:

Just when it feels like it’s over, and I’ll never make it alone

Fanny didn’t want anyone to doubt the extremity of what she was talking about here. Doubt and insecurity and depressive despair can be so great . . . that she can doubt her ability to survive it.

And the worst part of it? The loneliness, the isolation, the crushing fear that she will not be able to make it on her own.

And yet. How many of us have felt this same exact thing? Hopefully not every day. Hopefully not every week. But off and on, at different times of our lives, when so much seems to be closing in on us.

And the very worst of it? — our own self-disgust, self-hatred and self-contempt. If we could only be honest more of the time, I believe this is something we all struggle with; some more chronically. This is probably the greatest pain of all, what some call toxic shame.

We all have inherent and immeasurable value because we are image bearers. Each one of us was superintended by God before He created the foundations of this world. This is the truth, and some of us have come to believe it . . . but we can still doubt it.

We have come to know and have believed the love which God has for us. 1 John 4:16 NASB

Adam and Eve fully knew just how much God loved them in the Garden before the Fall, and their hearts were full to overflowing.

The solution for us? To return to the perfect of love God. What did Fanny say next?

I hear the voices of angels, tenderly calling me home

Home. All the way back to our original home, in the Garden of Eden, before the Fall, when we saw God face to face and perfectly knew just how much He loved us.

Next time, let’s slow down and talk more about this. Who we were to begin with, and what happened to change us, that we can so easily doubt ourselves and our worth. That we can actually think “it’s over, and I’ll never make it alone.”

Sam