Friday Night Rewind

So what does a forty one year old woman who's trying to pull all of the pieces of her life together again do on a Friday night? I laugh to myself at this question because I am coming up with very little indeed. This trying to get my life back on track is interferring with my social tendencies. Normally in my newfound state of having no young children around I would find something to do but this pesky little ordeal of rehabilitating my life has managed to keep me in hermit status. Earlier today after a much needed simple conversation with God I pulled out some music that I had not listened to in quite some time. My gospel music collection in CD form has not grown much over the years so it reflects much of my foundational years in gaining a relationship with God. Everything modern is, well was on my IPOD which as of yesterday was mistakenly erased. Apple products and the Itunes store I abhor you!! Anyway, the music that I found myself listening to all this afternoon and at this very moment brings back such pleasant memories. The sounds of Fred Hammond, Yolanda Adams and early Kirk Franklin all chronicle my coming of age spiritually. I was in my very early twenties with a young son just coming to know and understand the Creator of the Universe for real. I was so young, so honest in my desire to learn and love God, so sincere in teaching my son about Him. Many Friday nights were spent just like tonight at home listening to music that uplifted, encouraged and soothed me. When my son would go to visit his dad those were also some of the loneliest Friday nights. The momentum of the week came to an abrupt end on Friday evenings after returning home, making sure my son's overnight bag was neatly packed and he was ready to leave me for two whole days. By the time his dad had come and whisked him away I was left alone in a suddenly quiet house. There was no video game or Nickelodeon blaring in the background just silence. Before the loneliness overtook me I busied myself with chores. I washed clothes, did dishes, swept and mopped the kitchen, anything to keep me busy. When I could no longer continue to keep moving and the silence tapped me on the shoulder I turned my music on and let the soul stirring lyrics minister to my lonely soul. Alone in that little, empty house I connected to Spirit and poured my heart out. I told God all about my pain, my problems, my fears and my uncertainties. I cried about my inability to face some situation alone. When a bill came due that I had absolutely no idea how I'd cover I mopped and had a little talk with Jesus. Here I am twenty years later and its the same story with a few variances. I am alone on a Friday night and I find myself rewinding the tape back to a familiar time in my life. I made it beyond those interesting years where I matured. I think to myself tonight as Fred Hammond encourages me to "praise Him through the night" that this too shall pass. I may be undergoing yet another midnight hour and if I've learned nothing I've learned that in the midnight hour is when God does His absolute best work.