One of the first things I noticed when we first moved to our new street were the bells.
There's a beautiful Presbyterian church next door whose bells chime every hour and half hour. At 6:00 pm every evening we are treated to a medley of hymns that lasts 15 minutes or so. I recognize some of the hymns, including "This is My Father's World" which always gets stuck in my head for the remainder of the evening. But there was always this hymn that I did not know. After 2 years of hearing this same hymn almost every evening, I became quite familiar with the melody, but still did not know the words.
Then, one Sunday this summer, we were standing in church, flipping the Trinity Hymnal to #35 and as the organ pounded out the beautiful chords I was delighted to realize this was the hymn I had been hearing every evening. I must have been holding Normandie while trying to flip the pages of the hymnal because I didn't make it to #35 until the second stanza. The first words I sang as I joined in with the congregation sank deep in my heart and nearly brought me to tears.
"Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light, nor wanting, nor wasting, thou rulest in might."
Ben has been looking for a job for almost a year. Applying to church after church and going through various interview processes has been exciting but tiring. Witnessing him make the most out of each day with Normandie is precious and I know that one day we'll tell her stories of their adventures during this first year of her life. But I've also battled a series of emotions...jealousy that he gets to spend the day with her while I am at a tiring and challenging job; discouragement that after 5 hard years of work and sacrifice to earn an MDiv, he still is without a job; uncertainty as to where we'll be living from month to month (we've held off on leaving our tiny, quaint apartment until we know where Ben will be serving).
The words to the hymn were just what I needed to hear and to sing. I don't know the author's exact original intended meaning. He or she was probably referring to a bigger picture than the one I focus on day to day. But it meant a lot to me to be reminded that God is not in a hurry to get things done, including revealing where our next home will be. Not one day spent at my job away from my baby is wasted in His book. Neither is tonight spent in this apartment, waiting to know where Ben will find a job. He makes His move at exactly the right time and provides for and sustains us in the meantime. I love that about Him.
And I love that the strong melody to this sweet hymn has been floating through the din of sirens and trolleys and frat parties that make up the background noise to this busy university street where we live for now, even long before its meaning would resonate so strongly with my daily struggles.
I love that every evening at 6, as I am reunited with my sweet baby, I'm reminded that God is not (and so I do not need to be) rushed, that He never wastes time to do anything, and that He, and He alone, is wise.
Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise
Immortal, invisible, God only wise,
In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
Most blessèd, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, thy great Name we praise.
Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light,
Nor wanting, nor wasting, thou rulest in might;
Thy justice like mountains high soaring above
Thy clouds which are fountains of goodness and love.
To all life thou givest—to both great and small;
In all life thou livest, the true life of all;
We blossom and flourish as leaves on the tree,
And wither and perish—but naught changeth thee.
Great Father of glory, pure Father of light,
Thine angels adore thee, all veiling their sight;
All laud we would render: O help us to see
’Tis only the splendour of light hideth thee.
-Walter Chalmers Smith
