I was jerked awake at precisely 5:27 by a squirming knot in my stomach. Its cause was this dreadful realization: I had parked in a place where I could get a ticket... or possibly towed. Rushing outside with an impending sense of doom, waves of relief washed over me as I saw my fabulous, enormous, wood-paneled wagon still sitting in the lot (next to a tiny smart car, which gave me quite a laugh) completely ticket free.
Praise the Lord!
—Not even for sparing me a headache and inconvenience, really, but for this: I was dragged out of bed in a frenzy, fully expecting the worst, only to step out the front door and literally have my breath taken away by one of the most glorious sunrises I've ever seen. Vivid magenta clouds illuminated the horizon, ribbons of crimson and gold reaching their spindly fingers up into the retreating darkness. And in that moment, I was struck by the overwhelming mercy of my Savior.
So I drove to Cup of Joe, got some chai, and sat on the river, drinking in God's word and the splendor of His creation. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”
I had a dream one of the first nights of being in Jacksonville, and it went something like this:
Meandering up a country road, the wide horizon of a Midwestern landscape stretched out before me. Pale yellow gravel crunched beneath my feet as I stepped onward. Smooth hills rolled up to meet me, enormous waves of earth too lethargic to ever crash like the surf on Neptune Beach. As I walked, the world around me came into crisper focus; tall black-eyed susans gained prevalence among the wild, unkempt grasses growing in the ditches and I watched the dust around my feet, agitated by movement, stir up in purposefully chaotic wisps, carried away in the breeze. Glancing beyond a faded road sign standing askew, I became aware of a hazy light reaching over the crest of the rising ground ahead. I pressed on up the incline to the prize of gaining the summit; a broad, fruitful valley opened up beneath me, the patchwork quilt of farmland laying out as in a hammock under the sun. Details previously overlooked became obvious; the farms yielded alfalfa, beans, and corn, and I discovered deer tracks and a thin, twisted stream cutting through the Earth— nuances found only by those who walk this path with purpose. The road wound down into the valley, and I spotted it in the distance, a narrow golden thread stretching over the opposite brim, reaching on and on toward what I know only to be a beautiful Mystery.
Comprehension of the gospel, I'm beginning to think, is not a destination that I reach, but rather a road upon which I have walked, am walking, and will continue to walk into eternity. My inability to fully grasp the majesty of God's sovereignty and grace, then, is not an inconvenience, but a joy and a gift daily given; the longer I walk, the sweeter His revelation.
This post is the third of a three-part documentation of the journey my overly-analytical mind took while hitting the replay button on the song below. Please give it a listen in its entirety before diving in; I've written out the lyrics for your convenience. Click here for part one and click here for part two.
— — —
My Falseby Matt Corby
You see, I don't know where I'm running to
It's become quite hard to see
There's a guilty weight on my conscience
Of all my wrongful deeds
It's time to reconcile It's time to reconcile Oh, if I walk into the darkness I'll be lost But if I try to stay, the light will show my false
I will keep my head in the sand, dear
Let the grains block out the sun
With shame as my companion
It will stay close til I'm done It's time to reconcile It's time to reconcile
Oh, if I walk into the darkness I'll be lost But if I try to stay, the light will show my false — — —
[the Reconciliation] I met a guy named Donovan who talked about this constant, unfulfilled, dissatisfied, restless longing that every human carries with them every moment of every day. He said, "If someone offered me eternal life, I'd say No thanks— unless something is gonna be radically different."
I agree. Cause if I pay attention, I don't see people thriving. It seems like the ache of this song is echoed in the hearts of everyone around me.
And maybe you've noticed, too. Maybe, as hard as you try, a purposeful, beautiful, joyful life just doesn't seem to be in the cards.
Honestly? No. Of course I don't want eternal life——IF ETERNAL LIFE IS LIKEthis. This life is miserable, painful, difficult, and hopeless. We've all felt it. But why?
—Cause we, as human beings, have a voracious appetite for pleasure and acceptance which we can never quench. These constant desires prevent us from ever being satisfied by anything in this world.
But I'm telling you, there is something AMAZINGLY, RADICALLY DIFFERENT for you.
I t ' s t h e G o s p e l .
AND THIS IS WHY IT'S SO AMAZING:
God doesn't shrug his shoulders at all the stuff that's wrong with this world and me in it and decide he can tolerate all the shortcomings. It's not about acceptance; it's about reconciliation. He doesn't accept me 'as I am.' He doesn't leave me to remain in this current state; HE RADICALLY TRANSFORMS ME WITH HIS LOVE.
"The Gospel is better than unconditional love.
The Gospel says, ‘God accepts you just as Christ is.
God has ‘contraconditional’ love for you.’
CHRIST BEARS THE BURDEN YOU DESERVE
Christ is fully pleasing to the Father
and gives you His own perfect goodness.
Christ reigns in power, making you the Father’s child and coming close to you
to begin to changewhat is unacceptable to God about you.
God never accepts me ‘as I am.’
He accepts me ‘as I am in Jesus Christ.’
THE CENTER OF GRAVITY IS DIFFERENT
The true Gospel does not allow God’s love
to be sucked into the vortex of the soul’s lust
for acceptability and worth in and of itself."
[C.J. Mahaney]
Your guilt, lostness, and shame aren't yours to bear.
This post is the second of a three-part documentation of the journey my overly-analytical mind took while hitting the replay button on the song below. Please give it a listen in its entirety before diving in; I've written out the lyrics for your convenience. Click here to read part one.
— — —
My False by Matt Corby
You see, I don't know where I'm running to
It's become quite hard to see
There's a guilty weight on my conscience
Of all my wrongful deeds
It's time to reconcile It's time to reconcile Oh, if I walk into the darkness, I'll be lost But if I try to stay, the light will show my false
I will keep my head in the sand, dear
Let the grains block out the sun
With shame as my companion
It will stay close til I'm done It's time to reconcile It's time to reconcile
Oh, if I walk into the darkness, I'll be lost But if I try to stay, the light will show my false
Oh, if I walk into the darkness, I'll be lost But if I try to stay, the light will show my false
— — —
Songs are funny, cause the narrator might not necessarily be the guy who wrote it. But when I first heard the lyrics of this song, I immediately wished I could talk to the person whose sentiment they convey. There are so many things I'd want to ask... Questions that, if I'm being transparent, I would like to pose to most people I meet; there are some things that nobody spends time thinking about, and those tend to be the things that everyoneshould think about.
[the Questioning] —ask yourself—
Do you feel a lack of direction?
Why?
And why are you running when you don't know where you're going?
—ask yourself—
Is guilt something you should just try to shake off?
Cause it's a tangible thing; You feel it.
But do you think you should?
Is guilt something we deserve?
Why or why not?
And where does it come from?
—ask yourself—
Are you more afraid of the stuff you do, or the idea that other people might find out?
What do you do with the shame you feel daily?
Is that something you just have to accept, or is the goal to try to ignore it?
Letting yourself be ignorant of your circumstances —colloquially 'keeping your head in the sand'— does that make it any better?
Do you think you deserve to feel better?
Why? —ask yourself—
What would make it better?
What is reconciliation?
To what or whom are you being reconciled?
How do you achieve it?
— — —
If I pay attention, I don't see people thriving. It seems like the ache of this song is echoed in the hearts of everyone around me.
And maybe you've noticed, too. Maybe, as hard as you try, a purposeful, beautiful, joyful life just doesn't seem to be in the cards. So here's my question:
Is this as good as it gets?
And if it isn't, why is everybody ignoring that fact—
—like ostriches with their heads in the sand?
It this isn't as good as it gets, then why is everybody pretending that it is?
