I'm just sitting here at Zera's coffee shop, my new favorite place to go listening to some music. Greg Jenkins sent me an email to show me this video of this band performing a song that reminded him of when we played together. It's weird thinking about that time in my life. That time in Ohio when I was so on fire for Jesus, didn't feel completely broken, and was worshipping God with my guitar. I truly miss those times. But Jesus in His perfect grace has placed me here, in Texas. I love this place. I love my church, The Village. I just hate where I am. God is trying to teach me a lesson I do not want to learn. It's a lesson I've been avoiding for many years.
I can't even place what exactly the lesson, just that I know He's molding me in a real way. A time of me feeling broken, stupid, cliche, and at times hopeless. If I had to take a guess (which is a dangerous game to play) at what God's up to I'd say he's breaking my idolatry and my pride. The idolatry of my heart. Pushing me to my limits and beyond to get my attention that He's my only provision and the ONLY thing I can take pride in. I can take pride in this God that loves me so much that He willingly chose to FEEL my existence, my pain, my fears, and even live those fears out through His death. Because of His death I am alive. Only because of Him choosing me am I spared the rod and given the feast.
He's slowly, tenderly breaking me. It's hard. It's not fun. I want to be on the other side of it. But He won't let me until it sinks in. Until I fully seek Him with all my being, not taking pride in anything else. Not going anywhere else for validation, for solace, for love, for companionship, for pleasure. He wants Him to be all those things and more. More. MORE! There is so much more out there. More of Him, less of me. This is my design. My perfect design is to be as close to God as I can. We all were designed for that purpose. Imagine a time when you could walk through the garden and just hang out with God. Naked. Free. Loved.
God knew what He was doing when He blew life into us. We just wanted to be greater than Him. We wanted more knowledge than Him. We wanted to control ourselves more than Him. We wanted to be Him to ourselves.
Sam Matteson has been mentoring me of sorts this semester. He's a great guy. He's a physics teacher at UNT, leader of my home group, and a bright person. We meet once a week to talk. To talk about anything. Today was about sin, SciFi, the doppler effect, the human voice, and Lord of the Rings. I love these conversations. He was reflecting to me last week about a moment he had when he was at his newly purchased home in Colorado he anticipates growing old in after he retires (partially he's be here and there which is good for me!). It overlooks some mountains (which in Colorado are real mountains) from his living room. He said that his windows were dirty so he went out and started to clean the outside. He had this moment with God about his science that can be related to any of our labors in life (mine being music). He cleaned a little spot in the middle, so that most of the window is still dirty, but there is a spot of clarity which one can see through. It was this spot that when looked through pointed to the mountain range. You see that's what we do, either through science or the arts, we show a glimpse on how God does things. How me made this existence. He made the mountains, Sam didn't as well as I, He made them beautiful. We just clean a little spot to see Him. We don't clean all of it, just a spot at a time. When I write a piece I clean a spot. People can see a part of God that maybe they didn't see before.
When I think about stuff like that, I smile. This is the good stuff in life. The moments when God is there, when it makes sense, when it feels right. I love those moments. Unfortunately, this isn't real life. We fail. We hurt. We're scared. The truth that permeates all of this is that God is there. He's there for all who call on His name. Call on His name everyday. He will never fail you. He will never fail me. I may fail me, other may fail me, but Jesus cannot fail. It all works out to glorify Him. I'm ready. I'm ready to have God take me. I'm praying for the hard road. The hard road that too many Christians do not want to walk. The one that says 'pick up your cross', this doesn't mean a burden we struggle with (like gambling, or lying) but a call to all to call the name Jesus to become a disciple. To walk the long, hard road with a smile and trust that God has it. He does. Walk the hard road.
1 comment:
That was awesome Pat! Call me tomorrow.
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