I read this and for a moment I feel the Maker’s pursuit. I breathe in His affection and His radically intolerant love.
The days don’t make sense. And for moment, I believe they don’t have to.
My focus hugs the horizon instead of clinging to the near-sightedness mess, the clutter so desperate for empty comforts.
The world’s jagged song whispers, too, and I lend my ear until I can only hear its abrasive clanging over His whispers of truth. And I join in. I join the clash and replicate the dark. And then mock His plan. We love to blame, and I’m no different. I shout to the Maker and tell Him it’s all absolutely wrong. And then go sin some more and make an even greater mess of things. It’s all so broken.
“We worship what we complain about,” my husband said one day.
“What?!” My reaction comes across a little too strong. A little too cocky. But deep down, I’m loving his counter-cultural wisdom that’s not threatened by mystery. He beckons my mind to wrestle, going deeper than I ever thought my intellect could… past fear, past impressing others. I’m still surprised, still challenged, after all these years. Grace.
“Yeah. We worship what we complain about. At least I do. Think about it.”
Indeed. The very things we scorn in conversation are what we ponder all the time. Our bodies. Our stories. The past. The dream of a future. Other people. Yes, the demands we make in solitude shadow our worldview until we’re practically tripping in the dark.
My Maker dares me to find the horizon. Dares me to see the forest through the trees. He reads aloud His Love Story full of tragedy and miracles, drama and reconciliation, grief and hope. He sings His song to redeem the ancient brokenness I’m fostering yet today.
He delivers me from that which I worship. From that which I complain about. Over and over.
“God is willing to sacrifice what is important to us in order to reclaim our hearts… Much of the loss that tends to take our breath away has to do with God’s jealous love… His love is beautifully intolerant… He is willing to do drastic things in order to free us from slavery to this that were never meant to rule us.” – Paul David Tripp
Listen. Silence for clashing. Perspective for complaining. Wholeness for empty worship.