“Come on my soul, don’t you get shy on me… there is a lion inside of these lungs.”
Those words have been echoing in my spirit lately—especially in a season where life feels anything but loud with praise.
Because if I’m honest, this has been hard.
Losing jobs, or people, or sustaining injuries of the heart or body is more than just finances or a bum knee. It shakes identity, rhythm, confidence. It creates quiet spaces where fear tries to speak louder than faith. The kind of quiet where you wonder if you still have anything left to give, anything left to sing.
And yet… that line calls something deeper out of me.
Don’t get shy.
Not because everything is okay—but because God is still God, even here.
The Tension of This Season
There is something profoundly sacred about this time of year.
During Passover, the Jewish people remembered deliverance—freedom from bondage, God making a way where there was none. It was a celebration of provision, protection, and promise.
And right in the middle of that celebration, Jesus was walking the streets.
He knew what was coming.
He knew the suffering wouldn’t pass Him.
He knew the weight He would carry.
He knew the silence, the betrayal, the pain.
While others were remembering what God had done, Jesus was preparing for what He would endure.
That tension—it matters.
Because it means you can stand in a moment where:
- God has been faithful
- And life still feels unbearably heavy
Both can exist at the same time.
When Praise Feels Hard
There’s a version of worship that comes easily when life is good.
And then there’s this kind—the kind that feels like you’re pulling something out of the depths of your chest.
The kind where “come on my soul” isn’t poetic… it’s necessary.
Because your soul does get quiet.
It does shrink back.
It does forget.
And still, there is a lion inside you.
Not because of your strength—but because of who lives within you.
Choosing to Remember
This season has been stretching me to remember:
- Provision doesn’t always look immediate
- Stability doesn’t always feel secure
- But God is still present in the unknown
Just like Passover wasn’t just about what had happened—but what God continues to do—this season isn’t just about what’s been lost.
It’s about what is still being formed.
A Different Kind of Strength
Maybe strength right now isn’t having it all together.
Maybe it looks like:
- Getting up when it’s hard
- Trusting when there’s no clear answer
- Praising when your voice shakes
Maybe strength is whispering, “come on my soul…” even when you don’t feel it yet.
Because sometimes worship isn’t a reaction.
It’s a decision.
The Lion Still Lives Here
So if you’re in a season like mine—where things feel uncertain, heavy, even stripped back—I want you to know:
You’re not behind.
You’re not forgotten.
And you’re not empty.
There is still a lion inside of you.
Even in the quiet.
Even in the loss.
Even here.
And maybe today, all we do is this:
We don’t get shy.
We remember.
We breathe.
We lift our voice—however small it feels.
And we trust that God is still writing a story far bigger than what we can see.
Creating Exceptional 