A few nights ago what a surprise to wake up feeling refreshed, ready to begin a new day only to learn it was shortly past midnight, with six long hours until sunrise! I longed to get back to sleep, but fears began churning in my belly about the state of our world. I sang uplifting songs in my head, and prayed the 23rd Psalm, and Psalm 91. But I couldn't find peace. I remembered wise advice I'd heard years ago during a time of extreme testing: God doesn't want us to live an anxious life, riddled with constant anxiety. The remedy for finding peace is to remember the many ways the Lord has come through for you in the past, and to give thanks. Then, humbly ask the Holy Spirit to take your fears and give you peace instead. When done earnestly, you cannot fail.
So I began to give thanks for all the past blessings delivered in my hour of need, and to ask for forgiveness for all my shortcomings. I then invited the Holy Spirit to take my issues and let me have peace instead.
What happened next misted my eyes as I knew I was truly not alone. I'd been touched by a loving Presence, a Presence who knew me better than I know myself... because a long, forgotten melody washed over me and brought relief. "On the wings of a snow white dove, he sends his pure sweet love, a sign from above...on the wings of a dove".
A white dove is a symbol for the Holy Spirit.
I couldn't quite place how I knew the old song as I softly sang it over and over again. "On the wings of a snow white dove, He sends His pure sweet love, a sign from above...on the wings of a dove". A perfect remedy as I drifted off in a peaceful sleep, embraced by the loving wings of a snow white dove.
First thing the next morning, I looked up the lyrics on-line. Ferlin Husky belted out The Wings of a Dove, a big country hit in the 60's. My eyes misted as I listened to the healing words. Yet, I still couldn't place how I knew it.
Then I remembered weekend visits on my grandparent's farm. Biscuits baking in oven, Grandma's good cooking wafting the air ready to feed our hungry appetites. I could see her bustling about in a faded red paisley apron. Then the old brown radio came into view. It sat on-high, on top of an antique metal cupboard where she kept her dishes. Just a teenager back then, I'd be setting the table to the hillbilly twang crackling on the radio. Nobody dared to touch that dial. My taste in hits was top 60's--Dee Dee Sharp's Mashed Potato Time. Country music was so uncool...
We don't always get what we want, but we get what we need. It turned out that time got mashed by an old gospel tune that was hit over 50 years ago. In looking back, my faith-filled Grandma did it again--sowing a seed that I'd reap far into the future as well as a healing trip back to the old white farmhouse in the country.
On The Wings of A Dove by Bob Ferguson
On the wings of a snow white dove
On the wings of a snow white dove
