Set My Rhythm

A couple of months ago, God brought someone very special into my life. Out of respect for her privacy, I’ll just call her “Miss Kay”. Miss Kay is a sweet Christian lady who because of health issues is unable to be a part of her church community in the ways she would like. Specifically, she’s unable to get out and be a part of her church’s times of worship and fellowship. Since she’s at home most Sundays, she watches our church’s televised devotional program. She’s seen me on there several times when I’m filling in for our Senior Minister. A few months back, Miss Kay wrote me a sweet email to let me know how much the program meant to her. Over the past several months, we’ve become cyber pen pals. This summer, Miss Kay found me on Facebook and that’s helped us stay in contact even more frequently.

Miss Kay’s husband was a minister for many years and Kay’s role in the churches he served was prominent. He passed away a few years ago and most of their children live out of town, even out of state. She’s shared with me how difficult it’s been for her to feel sort of forgotten by her church family. Since she’s unable to get out very much, she feels like she doesn’t have much to offer, nothing of spiritual value to share with others. This, in my opinion, is a complete travesty. In the short time I’ve known her, Miss Kay has been a constant source of encouragement to me. I’ve started sharing our weekly church bulletin and prayer list with her and she’s been faithful to send out cards and notes to every single person on our church’s prayer list. What’s more, she’s been faithful to PRAY for each one of these individuals. I asked her this spring to pray for each of my children. Every time we correspond, she tells me she’s been praying for them. By name. Daily. It bothers me that Satan would convince this sweet saint that she has nothing to offer in service to the Kingdom. I’m willing to bet she spends more of her day in prayer than I do.

Last month, Miss Kay shared a poem with me, a poem she had written that has become her prayer lately. I find this to be a beautiful confession of the lordship of Jesus. My favorite line is “Let the pulsating meter of True love Be the pace at which I march.” I wanted to share it with you today so you could be blessed by it, too.

Set my Rhythm, LORD

Set my rhythm, Lord of Life.

Let Thy muted snares direct

My steps.

Open my ears and tune

My heart

To listen to the cadence.

Let the pulsating meter of

True love

Be the pace at which I march.

JESUS,

Thou “Different Drummer”,

May each heartbeat

Echo that measured music

Given just for ME.

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2 Responses to Set My Rhythm

  1. Ashleigh says:

    That is such a beautiful poem. I know in the recent past, my grandmothers have had the same experience and feeling that Miss Kay has, and it’s so sad. The ” fogotten” are generally some of the most wise Christians that we’ll ever encounter. In college, a group of us used to go visit, do service projects, and even hold services for those who physically couldn’t come to church. We were all blessed beyond measure in our interactions.

  2. Jason says:

    Reblogged this on already & not yet and commented:

    I ran across this old post tonight while reading through my blog. I originally wrote this over five years ago, in September of 2009. Remembering Miss Kay tonight and “the pulsating meter of True love” to which she marched.

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