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Doce me faces voluntarem tuam quia Deus meus es tu

Monday, July 11, 2005
When I was seventeen I knew everything. Really, I did. My sad little faith had seen it all. I knew the apex of the Christian life, and I knew the very bottom. I was a pro at the whole thing. I was sorrowfully wrong, of course, but then again, I was seventeen. I wasn't going to hear otherwise.

One of my favorite bands when I started college was Caedmon's Call. Here was a band of twenty-somethings, about the age I'm at now, writing about the triumphs and tragedies, all in the context of the redemptive love of Christ. I thought it was wonderful then, and still do. But now it makes sense. I had sinned at seventeen, but I wasn't, at least in any tangible human terms, a colossal screw up. Consequently I wasn't fully comprehending the confession in song like "Shifting Sand":

"Sometimes I believe all the lies
So I can do the things I should despise
And everyday I am swayed
By whatever is on my mind

I hear it all depends on my faith
So I'm feeling precarious
The only problem I have with these mysteries
Is they're so mysterious

And like a consumer I've been thinking
If I could just get a bit more
More than my fifteen minutes of faith
Then I'd be secure

My faith is like shifting sand
Changed by every wave
My faith is like shifting sand
So I stand on grace"


And so it goes from there.

I thought that made sense when I was just out of high school, still living at home, dating the popular girl and completely devoid of any serious care or concern. Looking back now, knowing how far I've come and how far I've yet to journey, those words resonate so clearly. When I was younger I would have never dreamed I would find myself where I am today. I certainly would have never planned out the road that brought me here. It would seem so foreign, and in a way it still does. I think that's how God uses art to guide us in a sense. I was talking to a friend the other night and we both mentioned how - as teengagers - we would have never, ever imagined that our lives would have taken the turns they have. That we would have wandered from our faith in thought, if not outright deed. That in spite of our foolishness and our wayward hearts that our faithful Lord would leave all to find us again. That our Father would wait at the gate for the prodigals to return.

But He did, and He is still waiting. Such mercy causes me to sing with new hope and joy at the promise of restoration in this life and the next.
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