The song
Singing a song in church on Sunday. The pastor doesn’t introduce it as a new one. He just plunges right in as if we should all know it.
Wondering, why don’t I recognize this? Maybe I’ve never really paid attention to the words. That would be unusual for me. Maybe I tuned them out because I didn’t want to think about applying them in a personal way.
I don’t. I don’t want to sing them, to mean them, to ask God to make them real in my life. It would be too painful.
And yet those words reflect just what I should want. What I need. What Jesus encourages us to long for.
When I go online the next day to print out the words, I’m surprised to discover that it’s been about twenty years since they were first recorded. How could I have missed them in all that time?
The song: “Keep Me,” by the Crabb Family.
The part that I like
I can honestly sing and relate to some of the requests that it voices. “Keep me lost for words to praise you enough … Keep me praying, keep me trusting … Keep me coming back to you.”
I want a God who’s so big and mysterious and sublime that I can’t come up with all the right words to praise Him. I want a God who helps me to continue praying and trusting even when I don’t feel like it, who keeps drawing me back to Him when I wander.
I want a God who makes my life better in ways that I can see and understand. In ways that turn me from feeling lost to finding joy in Him.
The part that I don’t like
But keep me hungry, keep me thirsty, keep me falling, keep me broken? (That’s the one that really gets to me.) How can I sing these words and actually mean them?
Can I honestly say that I want God to keep me hungry for daily manna? No. I don’t want an ongoing hunger even after I’ve just eaten, as those words keep me imply. I want to be so satisfied that I don’t feel any hunger at all for at least a little while.
Can I honestly say that I want God to keep me thirsty for living water? No. I want to take another sip before my throat begins to dry out. I’ve heard that marathon runners are advised to start pre-hydrating a day or two before the race begins. Be prepared. Avoid the suffering and danger.
That’s what I want God to do for me spiritually. Don’t keep me thirsty. Keep me well-hydrated.
Can I honestly say that I want God to keep me falling on my knees in need of mercy? No. I don’t want to constantly carry such a deep sense of unworthiness that I actually collapse. I want to sit in my usual chair at my usual time of day, put my feet up, close my eyes, and go through my usual prayer routine, which sometimes includes a sentence or two regarding His mercy.
Besides, a need for mercy implies some kind of failure. Why can’t I be an overcomer instead? Isn’t that what God wants me to be, as John writes about in the book of Revelation?
Keep me broken??? Who would ever pray such a prayer? Not me. I pray, “Keep me safe. Keep me strong.”
This song isn’t asking God to see me through a tough time, like all the ones that I like so much do. It’s those two words that get to me: “keep me.” I don’t want Him to keep me in a needy state.
The benefits of the painful keep me’s
And yet there are good reasons for being kept in painful situations. Maybe the song hits me so hard right now because God has been reminding me lately that I can minister to others better in my brokenness. Instead of constantly praying for Him to take it away, He’s been encouraging me to appreciate the good that comes from it. To accept it. To be content. (Definitely not there yet.)
And when I’m hungry and thirsty and falling and broken, that’s when I see my dependence on Him most clearly. Somewhere inside, I know I need Him all the time. But when I’m feeling healthy and whole, I’m much less aware of that fact.
The Bible mentions other benefits to God’s keeping me longing and hurting. I’ve commented on them in my various articles, so I’m not going to try to list them here. What strikes me right now is how the thoughts I’ve just mentioned help me to defy Satan. Satan wants to keep me wallowing in self-pity and a sense of entitlement.
Finding balance
So yes, I should be praying the prayers in this song. Even the ones I don’t like. But maybe I could go too far in that direction, too. Just like I can go too far in asking for healing and strength.
It’s also good to nourish and hydrate my soul even in those times when I’m not aware of being hungry or thirsty. Like the marathon runner.
If I hadn’t started reading the Bible and becoming involved in my church as a baby Christian, I probably wouldn’t have had the strength to resist the suicidal impulses a few years later. I might have had a semi-conscious sense of hunger and thirst then, like when I take a sip of water before I really need it, but I didn’t have the constant feeling of deprivation that I’m hearing in this song. And that was okay.
And I remember the very simple truth that, when Jesus was walking this earth, He healed. He didn’t keep people in their physical pain and paralysis. Maybe what I was missing when this song hit me so hard is the idea that He can keep us continually hungry, and continually satisfy that hunger, at the same time.
Kind of like sitting down to an infinite banquet with a healthy appetite and enjoying every delicious bite forever. The hunger I’d feel wouldn’t be a painful thing. It would be a spur to take the next mouthful, which I could do without any of the negative consequences such as being uncomfortably full or gaining excessive weight.
A "keep me" prayer doesn’t imply that God stands back and lets us suffer in our brokenness without providing the relief that we long for. He still heals.
Maybe I need to pray in a more balanced way, like the song does. Keep me praying and trusting and coming back to You. I can’t do those things on my own, as much as I try to give myself credit for them. But also keep me aware of my intense need for You, even when that means being broken moment by moment and day by day.
