Fresh strings and old hardwood floors, a tall cold drink and some loud but “quiet” time in my own little world. I keep forgetting about this place. This quiet. This stillness. I forget that this is where my cup is filled, where a guitar and some vocal chords are infinitely more than a sweet song or a practiced discipline. This is one of those few places that my heart speaks so freely and so openly with my Creator. I can feel his breath on my cheek and his hand on my heart, quieting my fears and restoring me piece by piece, minute by minute. My head quiets, and the daunting giants in my life begin to shrink from view, paling in comparison to the intensity of His mighty presence. Finally, my heart sighs. Home.
What beautifully intense moments these are. I wish I could say that every time I pick up my guitar this is the ending result. I wish I could say every day of my life with Him I open myself and partake in this very sweet, very real communion with the Great Lover of My Soul. But the truth is, I am, so often, consumed with the cares of this world, and the distractions of my petty little heart. Boxed in by fears I thought I’d long since laid down. Held down by guilt that has long since been paid for. Why is it that I am so easily consumed with such things? Why is that after all these years, here I stand, unable to look confidently at the Lifter of My Head and expect to find enduring faithfulness and the incandescently intense love my dreams could not even begin to contain? If this love is so far beyond my realm of comprehension and yet….so freely and abundantly given…..why do I hold back? What have I been waiting for? Life is too freaking short for this, I think to myself. I am not here long enough to waste this much time encased in fear, doubt, and anxiety.
And yet, even now as I am writing this, the convictions of my heart fresh and clear....I know this is just another bend in the road. One more thing to lay down, try as I may at times to cling to it. If there is one thread that has remained a constant presence in my walk it has been the word more. He has made it abundantly clear that what He has of me is not enough....and He will not rest until He has won my heart in its entirety. I am beginning to truly understand how great a struggle this is going to be in my life, as I have been actively roping off parts of my heart for years now, preventing a depth and a vulnerability that quite frankly....terrifies me. And yet, as difficult as this road is I know that I do not have to walk it alone. Ultimately until I can rest, wholly in His hands, every wretched piece of my heart yielded to Him; He will remain, holding my right hand and whispering quietly in my ear.
His, is the great pursuit of my heart. This heart that I have shamelessly squandered on those far less worthy. How ironic a love story between the Savior and His Beloved.
How undeserving am I? And oh how great a love this must be.
