Days away with the beloved ones, and hard to summarize the thoughts of God woven through a timefabric beyond normalcy. Like helicopter leaves, you lunge and grab them as they come and hope they remain in serviceable pieces for a return flight.
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sand hits water as far as forgiven sin and water hits light just as far the simple gospel message displayed among shells and bleached wood and dried weed even more able to visually see the hand of God stacking rocks in ordered lines like life in waves of stones
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On the night before the wondrous one became mine forever, a portent loomed before my eyes in the shape of a deer on a lawn. Probably trying to speak to me, but I wasn't listening. Returned to the site of a wonderful experience from ten years past, and perhaps using food items as portents is equally ridiculous. But going out on a limb to try nonetheless.
A decade later, and much has changed. What once was favorite no longer was. Ridiculous to expect no change over a decade. And yet most walks of faith have that expectation, don’t they? Settle into their lukewarm ditchwalks. Don’t view the negative change in side meals as a portent of negatives to come; view it merely as change, a reminder that expecting status quo is far more distasteful.
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High-speed internet access is no longer a luxury but a necessity. Phone service? Less important. Cable TV? Less important. Dessert, even? Less important. Being surrounded by surf instead of surfing put me into visible withdrawal. Didn’t realize how integral it had become to my life until it was missing. And then a profound loss was felt.
Replace high-speed internet access with whatever necessity makes the analogy relatable to you. Go on. I’ll wait. Now that you’ve chosen your line-filler, here’s my point: the loss of a close walk with the Lord doesn’t always bring about that same profound hole, does it? The devil finds ways to occupy your attention so you don’t notice the loss, and how sad that we let him win in doing so. There are times when you are that close, and His removal hits you square in the jaw, no doubt. But usually, it’s His return that emphasizes the profound loss after the fact. The initial withdrawal is too subtle, too gradual.
We should be conditioning ourselves to look carefully for little holes, look carefully for stray meanderings along the walk of faith. We should be conditioning ourselves to feel that profound loss at the slightest pinprick. The height of maturity has that sense of seeking right at its core.
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Re-introduced to an artist I hadn’t heard from in awhile. Only need to listen for a few moments before you realize that is probably a good thing. The music of David Wilcox crafts melancholy to a degree that makes my heart hurt. He knows how to touch that empty space inside you that the world tries to fill. Salvation is the recognition that that hole can only be filled by Christ. A wonder, though, how even filled by Him, the Wilcox chords still manage to remind you of that time before the filling when all hurt, all hurt.
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Following up a musical recollection with another. Introduced to the newest track from an artist ranking up there with Mullins and Tomlin in the ability to pen the very voice of Heaven. My favorite part goes:
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I’m caught in the middle of the storms of this life
I won’t turn back, I know You are near
And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear?
Whom then shall I fear?
Tune offered to me on the first day, and on every subsequent day. A week later, I understand why I needed it so. Reminder of His watch over you, His powerful hands capable of shielding you in the cleft no matter the battle.
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