1 John 2:15-16
15Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16For everything in the world—the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does—comes not from the Father but from the world.
I've read these verses so many times, and have figured that for the most part I don't love the world. After all, I don't look at things the way a lot of the world does, and I live my life differently than many. (Talk about pride, eh?) But, if I'm honest with myself, there are things from this world I have not let go of. Whether it's trying to gain approval from people or watching tv shows that are less than edifying.
About a year ago, I asked God what in my life was leading me to compromises. I asked Him to show me what things I needed to get rid of in order to get closer to Him. He led me to several changes that allowed me to be more free to pursue Him. Some of these things were tv shows and movies (not all, but certain types). I did well about avoiding them for quite a while. But then, I let myself get comfortable. I thought that since I was closer to God than I ever have been, that adding some of these shows that I liked back into my life wouldn't be that big of a deal.
So, I started watching different shows again. The one that comes to mind first is Supernatural...I loooove that show. Despite the fact that it terrifies me, they say Revelations instead of Revelation, and depict angels and God rather incorrectly, I find it quite entertaining. Since I've started up at watching this show again, I've heard God ask me to stop watching it. And of course, I've argued with Him about that.
I desperately look for a way to justify it. (Which is a compromise in itself. That's just what Satan wants me to do. Once I justify one small thing, I'll try to justify more and bigger things.) I tell God that I really want to see what happens next. And He asks me if it's worth it. I tell Him it's just entertainment. An enjoyable way to just relax, and He asks me why I relax by watching a show rather than spending time with Him. So, I tell Him that I'll watch the show and talk to Him about it, during it. (Literally - they'll say something about angels and I'll be like, "Lord, that's not exactly correct is it?")...I know, I'm completely reaching at this point.
It's not as though watching television is horrible. I've never been one for legalism and I'm not about to become someone who says that everyone should give up certain shows, movies, music, etc. But I've found that my own personal walk with Him is greatly affected by even these little things. It's not that Supernatural sways me against Him or anything - well unless you count that I choose to watch it when I could be spending time with Him. But it does affect my thinking. Just like what I eat affects my body, even if it's just a little piece of chocolate here and there, that adds up. What I eat mentally works the same way. And of course, once I compromise a little, it becomes all too easy to compromise more. I watch one episode of Supernatural, and it's just all too easy to sit there and watch another, or a different show.
As I'm thinking about all this, I'm wondering if my reluctance to let go is really me loving the world. Am I loving the desire of my eyes more than my God? I can't deny that's what my actions say. And yet, even realizing this, I am still hesitant about giving up certain things. I ask myself, "What will people think?" "What will they think when I tell them I am not going to watch something with them?" "Won't it make me seem like a crazy Christian?" And then I realize these questions are just more me holding on to the world - this time my need for people's approval.
Galations1:10
10Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.
Time to really ask myself who I am serving...Lord, please help my answer be You.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
My Best Friend
I’ve read so many letters and such to/about loved ones over the years, whether it’s for a birthday, anniversary, or another special occasion. Each time I read one, I get teary at the beauty of it. So, today, being the most special anniversary of my heart, I figured I would join in on the sappiness. Not that words could ever do Him justice, but I thought I would celebrate meeting my Best Friend. So, here’s my ode to Him, if you will.
Five years ago today, I sat in my living room and pressed play on the cd. For a while, I was so lost in the sound of the voice coming out of the speakers, I didn’t even hear You come in and introduce Yourself. I didn’t acknowledge that You say down beside me. I ignored Your presence just like I had each day of my life before then. And You just sat, patiently, waiting for me to turn my head and see You sitting there. For several songs, You whispered to me – encouragement and love, invitations of a life-changing friendship. And still I ignored You. Yet, still, You sat next to me, already knowing me better than I do. You sat in patient love, waiting for the perfect moment to soften my heart in the way that only You possibly could. And then, the next song started, and You began to sing along. Your voice was unlike anything I had ever heard. The tone was strong, victorious, and mighty, yet gentle, loving and full of peace. I finally looked at You, still unsure if I was ready for a friendship with You. I knew once I got to know You nothing would be the same – I wouldn’t be the same. But Your voice was so pure, I knew You could be trusted. Questions for You came flooding out of my heart and mouth. You looked at me with love in Your eyes, listening intently to each. Some You answered; most You told me the answer would come if I was willing to let You answer it in the most beautiful way later on. You know me – that got me frustrated – and I started to cry. Once again, You knew exactly what I needed and You hugged me tight. You held me, not wanting to let go, but prepared to if I demanded. But I felt safe in Your arms, and I told you so. I never wanted You to let go, and being the loving friend You are, You never have.
Instead, You and I started on this wonderful journey. I went off to college and You became my home away from home. The darkness came and You were my light. Heartache and You were my Healer. I got lost and you made a path for me back to the road. You opened doors and took my hand while I walked through them. Sometimes, I couldn’t or wouldn’t walk through on my own, so You carried me. When I was unsure about something, You were there to be my Counselor who shut out the world with Your unmatchable wisdom. I fell and You were the hand of grace to pick me up again. And even when I would argue with You, You didn’t argue back. You simply listened and spoke to me with patience, truth and love, until I surrendered. You never threw anything back in my face, and when I finally would admit that You were right, You weren’t boastful. You would chuckle softly and hug me like You did the day we met.
So many times over the past five years, You’ve opened Your mouth to sing for me, and each time I was left astounded. I never get tired of it or used to its miraculous sound. Every time I hear a new (to me anyway) quality in Your melodies. The more I know You, the more I want to know You. The more I know You, the more I realize how much I still don’t know You yet. It leaves me desperate for the next singing lesson You have planned.
Jesus, thank You for being my song for the past five years. Here’s to an eternity more. I love You, too.
Five years ago today, I sat in my living room and pressed play on the cd. For a while, I was so lost in the sound of the voice coming out of the speakers, I didn’t even hear You come in and introduce Yourself. I didn’t acknowledge that You say down beside me. I ignored Your presence just like I had each day of my life before then. And You just sat, patiently, waiting for me to turn my head and see You sitting there. For several songs, You whispered to me – encouragement and love, invitations of a life-changing friendship. And still I ignored You. Yet, still, You sat next to me, already knowing me better than I do. You sat in patient love, waiting for the perfect moment to soften my heart in the way that only You possibly could. And then, the next song started, and You began to sing along. Your voice was unlike anything I had ever heard. The tone was strong, victorious, and mighty, yet gentle, loving and full of peace. I finally looked at You, still unsure if I was ready for a friendship with You. I knew once I got to know You nothing would be the same – I wouldn’t be the same. But Your voice was so pure, I knew You could be trusted. Questions for You came flooding out of my heart and mouth. You looked at me with love in Your eyes, listening intently to each. Some You answered; most You told me the answer would come if I was willing to let You answer it in the most beautiful way later on. You know me – that got me frustrated – and I started to cry. Once again, You knew exactly what I needed and You hugged me tight. You held me, not wanting to let go, but prepared to if I demanded. But I felt safe in Your arms, and I told you so. I never wanted You to let go, and being the loving friend You are, You never have.
Instead, You and I started on this wonderful journey. I went off to college and You became my home away from home. The darkness came and You were my light. Heartache and You were my Healer. I got lost and you made a path for me back to the road. You opened doors and took my hand while I walked through them. Sometimes, I couldn’t or wouldn’t walk through on my own, so You carried me. When I was unsure about something, You were there to be my Counselor who shut out the world with Your unmatchable wisdom. I fell and You were the hand of grace to pick me up again. And even when I would argue with You, You didn’t argue back. You simply listened and spoke to me with patience, truth and love, until I surrendered. You never threw anything back in my face, and when I finally would admit that You were right, You weren’t boastful. You would chuckle softly and hug me like You did the day we met.
So many times over the past five years, You’ve opened Your mouth to sing for me, and each time I was left astounded. I never get tired of it or used to its miraculous sound. Every time I hear a new (to me anyway) quality in Your melodies. The more I know You, the more I want to know You. The more I know You, the more I realize how much I still don’t know You yet. It leaves me desperate for the next singing lesson You have planned.
Jesus, thank You for being my song for the past five years. Here’s to an eternity more. I love You, too.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Jesus Boyfriend
"You are everything that I live for
Everything that I can't believe is happening
You're standing right in front of me
With arms wide open all I know is
Every day is filled with hope
'Cause You are everything that I breathe for
And I can't help but breathe You in, and breathe again
Feeling all this life within
Every single beat of my heart."
- You are Everything (Matthew West)
Sounds like a love song :)
There are a lot of songs that I listen to that sound like love songs, but are actually about God. I tend to get a lot of "Is this about Jesus or your boyfriend?" questions from brothers who hear the songs when they are with me. A lot of people are bringing up the strangeness of this "Jesus is my boyfriend" kind of attitude. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and as I listened and sang along with this Matthew West song yesterday, I think it clicked.
Turn on the radio, and you'll hear someone asking "How can I live or breathe without you?" or declaring "I need you" and similar things. Watch a romance movie and you see couples declaring that they found that one person who makes everything make sense. Without this person nothing would matter -life wouldn't be worth living. It seems that romantic love has become the end all be all. Couples look for someone to complete them, to give them a hope, a purpose, a reason. Everyone is trying to find someone to be their everything.
People are not perfect. When we put that sort of expectation on someone else, we are bound to get disappointed. That's too much pressure to put on a person - and none of us were created to fulfill that role. And yet, too many people try to force others into it.
That's the problem. It's not that songs about God sound like romantic love songs. It's that romantic love songs sound like songs about God. It's not that we are trying to make Jesus our boyfriend. It's that we are trying to make our boyfriends (girlfriends, wives, husbands,etc) our Jesus.
So, yes, I do and will continue to say that I'm in love with my God. Why? Because people's understanding of what being in love with someone is - is how I am about my God. He's the One I can't breathe without. He's the One I need. He's the one who completes me, who gives me a hope, a purpose, a reason. Without Him, life wouldn't be worth living. He's my everything.
Everything that I can't believe is happening
You're standing right in front of me
With arms wide open all I know is
Every day is filled with hope
'Cause You are everything that I breathe for
And I can't help but breathe You in, and breathe again
Feeling all this life within
Every single beat of my heart."
- You are Everything (Matthew West)
Sounds like a love song :)
There are a lot of songs that I listen to that sound like love songs, but are actually about God. I tend to get a lot of "Is this about Jesus or your boyfriend?" questions from brothers who hear the songs when they are with me. A lot of people are bringing up the strangeness of this "Jesus is my boyfriend" kind of attitude. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and as I listened and sang along with this Matthew West song yesterday, I think it clicked.
Turn on the radio, and you'll hear someone asking "How can I live or breathe without you?" or declaring "I need you" and similar things. Watch a romance movie and you see couples declaring that they found that one person who makes everything make sense. Without this person nothing would matter -life wouldn't be worth living. It seems that romantic love has become the end all be all. Couples look for someone to complete them, to give them a hope, a purpose, a reason. Everyone is trying to find someone to be their everything.
People are not perfect. When we put that sort of expectation on someone else, we are bound to get disappointed. That's too much pressure to put on a person - and none of us were created to fulfill that role. And yet, too many people try to force others into it.
That's the problem. It's not that songs about God sound like romantic love songs. It's that romantic love songs sound like songs about God. It's not that we are trying to make Jesus our boyfriend. It's that we are trying to make our boyfriends (girlfriends, wives, husbands,etc) our Jesus.
So, yes, I do and will continue to say that I'm in love with my God. Why? Because people's understanding of what being in love with someone is - is how I am about my God. He's the One I can't breathe without. He's the One I need. He's the one who completes me, who gives me a hope, a purpose, a reason. Without Him, life wouldn't be worth living. He's my everything.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Receiving's New Definition
A lot of times I will read verses talking about giving, and I'll read it as a personal direction. I read "Freely you have received, freely give (Matthew 10:8) and really hear "Mary, you are to freely give." And how could I not give freely and gladly, when I know firsthand that when Jesus said "It is more blessed to give than to receive" He wasn't kidding?
So, gladly I give. Not as much as I could, should, or would like to, but I do. Yet, sometimes I find it hard to receive. If someone tries to give to me in some capacity, it's very likely I will try to decline it.
But recently, it's like a light bulb went off in my head while I was reading in Peter..."Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms." (4:10). I read this, and instantly other verses speaking about how we are to love one another came to mind. And then I couldn't shake the words "one another" from my head. Suddenly it dawned on me that others read the same words I do. Others read the same "freely give" command as I read. Others read and know the truth that it's more blessed to give than to receive.
Duh? Yeah...
How often have I refused someone's free giving? How often have I denied someone the chance to know the truth that it is more blessed to give than to receive? How often have I not taken what others have sincerely offered, whether it be a gift, service, time, etc., and instead took their blessing away from them?
Honestly, that made my heart sink. I want to bless others. Still, something about taking from others never sits completely well with me. I have to think of it differently. So, I have to give receive a new definition: to give a blessing.
So, gladly I give. Not as much as I could, should, or would like to, but I do. Yet, sometimes I find it hard to receive. If someone tries to give to me in some capacity, it's very likely I will try to decline it.
But recently, it's like a light bulb went off in my head while I was reading in Peter..."Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms." (4:10). I read this, and instantly other verses speaking about how we are to love one another came to mind. And then I couldn't shake the words "one another" from my head. Suddenly it dawned on me that others read the same words I do. Others read the same "freely give" command as I read. Others read and know the truth that it's more blessed to give than to receive.
Duh? Yeah...
How often have I refused someone's free giving? How often have I denied someone the chance to know the truth that it is more blessed to give than to receive? How often have I not taken what others have sincerely offered, whether it be a gift, service, time, etc., and instead took their blessing away from them?
Honestly, that made my heart sink. I want to bless others. Still, something about taking from others never sits completely well with me. I have to think of it differently. So, I have to give receive a new definition: to give a blessing.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
On to completion!
So many times I hear people say how they want a love that accepts them - flaws and all. I get it. Everyone wants to be loved completely. Everyone wants to know they are loved despite their shortcomings. But the way I hear people talk about this and the way I witness this love in action...I can't help but long for more than that.
I don’t want a love that looks at me and says “I love you, so I’ll just accept that that’s how you are”. I don't want a love that let's me get comfortable and stagnant. I want a love that accepts me. I don't want a love that accepts my flaws.
And then it hit me - I KNOW love like that. My Father in heaven knows me completely – the good, the bad, the ugly...the horrendous. He accepts me. He welcomes me. He wants me to be with Him. He loves me – completely. So completely that He won’t just accept my flaws. Can’t. He loves me so much that He wants me to grow. He looks at me and says “You are mine and I love you unconditionally. But I can't let you just sit in your pool of sin. Take My Son's hand and walk with Him back to Me."
Gladly! Thank You for loving me too much to leave me this way.
"...he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil 1:6)
I don’t want a love that looks at me and says “I love you, so I’ll just accept that that’s how you are”. I don't want a love that let's me get comfortable and stagnant. I want a love that accepts me. I don't want a love that accepts my flaws.
And then it hit me - I KNOW love like that. My Father in heaven knows me completely – the good, the bad, the ugly...the horrendous. He accepts me. He welcomes me. He wants me to be with Him. He loves me – completely. So completely that He won’t just accept my flaws. Can’t. He loves me so much that He wants me to grow. He looks at me and says “You are mine and I love you unconditionally. But I can't let you just sit in your pool of sin. Take My Son's hand and walk with Him back to Me."
Gladly! Thank You for loving me too much to leave me this way.
"...he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil 1:6)
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
My New Beginning
I don't know how to start out this blog other than telling some of my story first. So. I figured I might want to start off this blog by telling the reason behind the title, and the blog in general really.
I remember sitting in a PSR classroom on a Monday night. If I recall correctly, I was in first grade at the time. I don't remember what we were learning about, and looking back I can't think of anything that first graders would be learning that would call for this kind of comment, but it was said. Sitting there at the table with several other girls, I heard for the first time, the notion of suicide being a one way ticket to hell. I'm not even sure I knew what suicide was exactly, but I remember thinking that if it could get someone sent to hell, I wanted to avoid it.
As I got older, this thought had a place in the back of my mind. I don't know why (maybe my intuition was kicking in even then), but it was always there. And there were times I would think on it and feel uneasy. It never occurred to me to ask anyone about it. It never occurred to me to study what the Bible said on it. I never questioned anything I was told, I just accepted it. If I was told there was a God, there was. If I was told God wanted me to go to church on Sundays, He did. If I was told that suicide was a one way ticket to hell, it was.
That's not to say that I never doubted. I did. A lot. Every time something would go wrong, which seemed to happen quite a bit, I would wonder if there really was a God. For a while, I was able to just kick back those thoughts and cling to the belief that there was. But then, around the time of confirmation, I decided I wasn't sure enough to make the commitment to be a member of the Catholic church. Some stuff just didn't sit well with me.
Over the next four years of high school, I went back and forth in my belief in God. It generally happened that I would take on the views of whoever I was with at the time. If I was with my friend who was a Christian, I would take on that role. If I was with my brother, I would be arguing against the existence of God. The days I did that, I would go to bed at night and have this uneasy, guilty feeling. Then of course, there was the flip flop me - the me that would believe in God when things were going right and the second things got crazy, it would be impossible for me to believe. Usually, these "crazy" instances dealt with my brother, Erik. As long as I could remember, there was always some sort of drama, something going wrong in his life. And as long as I could remember, he had always been one of my best friends, my role model, my big brother the protector. Guess it makes sense that my beliefs would waver as his life took up and down turns.
There was one day, during a time when Erik wasn't at his best, that I was riding in the car with my dad and step mom. My dad asked me what it would take for me to really believe in God. I told him that He would have to do a miracle. He would have to help Erik.
January 20, 2005, I became convinced miracles didn't happen. I got a call from my sister saying my brother was missing. I went to bed that night praying to the God I wasn't sure was there at the moment to do something. I woke up later that night to crying and then found out my dear brother had killed himself.
Sitting at the funeral, I heard the priest talk about my brother being in heaven. That thought from my first grade class came rushing back at me. And this time, it wouldn't leave the front of my mind. I became angry and confused. At some point, I was being lied to. And I didn't know when. I wanted to know, that minute, what the truth was. Was my brother really in heaven? Or was the priest just being nice and telling us so? I could feel the frustration building up into tears. I tried to hold them back - I had been fine up to this point. But I kept looking at the coffin and just got more and more annoyed. So the tears came.
A couple years before this whole thing, one of my friends in high school had explained to me what a relationship with God could really be like and even gave me a Bible. The months following my brothers death, she was the one to encourage me and try to spark hope and faith in my heart. There wasn't an exact moment when it happened, but I knew I believed there was a God. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to follow Him. I still needed to know if He automatically sent my brother to hell. I did not know how to go about figuring it out though. I had never really read the Bible for myself, so opening and trying to figure out what it said about suicide wasn't the easiest option. But that summer, I tried to delve into this question. And I mostly got nowhere, for a long while.
I worked at a Dairy Queen that summer, and one of the cake decorators always played music. I was washing the dishes one day and couldn't help but listen to the music she had on...I'm an absolute sucker for a guy with a good voice, and this guy's was amazing! I mentioned I thought this, and the next day, she brought me a cd. Jeremy Camp's Carried Me Worship Project.
I put off listening to it for a while. When I did, I wasn't so much caught by the lyrics, but I was captured by the voice. Until the song Revive Me came on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Dg55eP4zw8
Everything about this song gripped me. The instrumental was beautiful, the voice was sincere, and the lyrics intrigued me. I played it again and the second time I really listened to it. I heard the words "Revive me that I may seek Your Word" and "You give me understanding according to Your word" and they broke me down into tears. I SO badly wanted to understand and didn't know how. I bawled my eyes out. Then feeling I had never known before came over me. I felt peace and calm. If I never did anything else but just sit there and be in that calm, I would have been perfectly fine. I never wanted it to leave. I was being hugged..and I knew it was God. And He was asking me to talk to Him, to trust Him, to let Him teach me.
So I took that leap. I talked to Him. I opened the Bible and read. I surrendered my heart and chose that I would trust Him.
Including when I finally had to deal with the pain of losing my brother (maybe I'll type that story out sometime too) God has used the song "Revive Me" to bring me back to Him. He's used it to remind me. It always seems to come on when I need to go back to that moment. To remember the peace He gives. To remember that He's there. To remember He's worthy of my praise and trust.
August 10, 2005, He revived me. He keeps reviving me. I'm His daughter. His revived daughter.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
I remember sitting in a PSR classroom on a Monday night. If I recall correctly, I was in first grade at the time. I don't remember what we were learning about, and looking back I can't think of anything that first graders would be learning that would call for this kind of comment, but it was said. Sitting there at the table with several other girls, I heard for the first time, the notion of suicide being a one way ticket to hell. I'm not even sure I knew what suicide was exactly, but I remember thinking that if it could get someone sent to hell, I wanted to avoid it.
As I got older, this thought had a place in the back of my mind. I don't know why (maybe my intuition was kicking in even then), but it was always there. And there were times I would think on it and feel uneasy. It never occurred to me to ask anyone about it. It never occurred to me to study what the Bible said on it. I never questioned anything I was told, I just accepted it. If I was told there was a God, there was. If I was told God wanted me to go to church on Sundays, He did. If I was told that suicide was a one way ticket to hell, it was.
That's not to say that I never doubted. I did. A lot. Every time something would go wrong, which seemed to happen quite a bit, I would wonder if there really was a God. For a while, I was able to just kick back those thoughts and cling to the belief that there was. But then, around the time of confirmation, I decided I wasn't sure enough to make the commitment to be a member of the Catholic church. Some stuff just didn't sit well with me.
Over the next four years of high school, I went back and forth in my belief in God. It generally happened that I would take on the views of whoever I was with at the time. If I was with my friend who was a Christian, I would take on that role. If I was with my brother, I would be arguing against the existence of God. The days I did that, I would go to bed at night and have this uneasy, guilty feeling. Then of course, there was the flip flop me - the me that would believe in God when things were going right and the second things got crazy, it would be impossible for me to believe. Usually, these "crazy" instances dealt with my brother, Erik. As long as I could remember, there was always some sort of drama, something going wrong in his life. And as long as I could remember, he had always been one of my best friends, my role model, my big brother the protector. Guess it makes sense that my beliefs would waver as his life took up and down turns.
There was one day, during a time when Erik wasn't at his best, that I was riding in the car with my dad and step mom. My dad asked me what it would take for me to really believe in God. I told him that He would have to do a miracle. He would have to help Erik.
January 20, 2005, I became convinced miracles didn't happen. I got a call from my sister saying my brother was missing. I went to bed that night praying to the God I wasn't sure was there at the moment to do something. I woke up later that night to crying and then found out my dear brother had killed himself.
Sitting at the funeral, I heard the priest talk about my brother being in heaven. That thought from my first grade class came rushing back at me. And this time, it wouldn't leave the front of my mind. I became angry and confused. At some point, I was being lied to. And I didn't know when. I wanted to know, that minute, what the truth was. Was my brother really in heaven? Or was the priest just being nice and telling us so? I could feel the frustration building up into tears. I tried to hold them back - I had been fine up to this point. But I kept looking at the coffin and just got more and more annoyed. So the tears came.
A couple years before this whole thing, one of my friends in high school had explained to me what a relationship with God could really be like and even gave me a Bible. The months following my brothers death, she was the one to encourage me and try to spark hope and faith in my heart. There wasn't an exact moment when it happened, but I knew I believed there was a God. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to follow Him. I still needed to know if He automatically sent my brother to hell. I did not know how to go about figuring it out though. I had never really read the Bible for myself, so opening and trying to figure out what it said about suicide wasn't the easiest option. But that summer, I tried to delve into this question. And I mostly got nowhere, for a long while.
I worked at a Dairy Queen that summer, and one of the cake decorators always played music. I was washing the dishes one day and couldn't help but listen to the music she had on...I'm an absolute sucker for a guy with a good voice, and this guy's was amazing! I mentioned I thought this, and the next day, she brought me a cd. Jeremy Camp's Carried Me Worship Project.
I put off listening to it for a while. When I did, I wasn't so much caught by the lyrics, but I was captured by the voice. Until the song Revive Me came on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Dg55eP4zw8
Everything about this song gripped me. The instrumental was beautiful, the voice was sincere, and the lyrics intrigued me. I played it again and the second time I really listened to it. I heard the words "Revive me that I may seek Your Word" and "You give me understanding according to Your word" and they broke me down into tears. I SO badly wanted to understand and didn't know how. I bawled my eyes out. Then feeling I had never known before came over me. I felt peace and calm. If I never did anything else but just sit there and be in that calm, I would have been perfectly fine. I never wanted it to leave. I was being hugged..and I knew it was God. And He was asking me to talk to Him, to trust Him, to let Him teach me.
So I took that leap. I talked to Him. I opened the Bible and read. I surrendered my heart and chose that I would trust Him.
Including when I finally had to deal with the pain of losing my brother (maybe I'll type that story out sometime too) God has used the song "Revive Me" to bring me back to Him. He's used it to remind me. It always seems to come on when I need to go back to that moment. To remember the peace He gives. To remember that He's there. To remember He's worthy of my praise and trust.
August 10, 2005, He revived me. He keeps reviving me. I'm His daughter. His revived daughter.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
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