I don't even really know how to start this blog. I don't have any wonderful insights, or knowledge. I pretty much don't have a thing, besides just typing what's on my heart. Which is a lot. My goodness, you'd better tighten your seatbelt there... here goes a deep dive into one incredibly boggled mind.
Have you ever heard the song "You Won't Relent" by Chris Quilala & Kim Walker? Well, I have. Many times actually. It's one of my favorite songs on the album. We've sung it at church on multiple occasions (shortened versions, of course, as it is about a 13 and half minute long song). There's something about the full version that I love. But here's the funny thing. As many times as I've listened to it, laying in bed, listening to my iPod the other night, I heard something I hadn't really heard in the song before. Well, don't get me wrong, I'd heard the words, and even sang them word for word before. But never had they resonated like this. The words I heard were these:
I don't wanna talk about you
Like you're not in the room
I wanna look right at you,
I wanna sing right to you
... All of a sudden, it felt a little harder to breathe- like a 20lb weight was just laid on my chest...
"I don't wanna talk about you like you're not in the room..." I pictured looking out into an empty room, singing into a mic with all my might... looking straight ahead, knowing that the room was, in fact, not empty at all. The presence of God, so strong and powerful that it took everything I had to stand there and sing. "I wanna look right at you..." wait, look right at God?! "I wanna sing r--"... I choked. My tongue couldn't form the words. Sing... right to... God?
The words sat in the forefront of my mind for a few moments, then began to form again in my mouth... "I wanna sing... right to you, God"... will you have me? Something about it felt strange. But incredible.
Now, the concept of singing to God wasn't a new idea to me, and if you've ever sang a worship song or attended any kind of worship service I'm sure it's not to you either. But this was different. This, is looking deeply into the eyes of the God whose love and passion for you is unparalleled by any other. His eyes that have seen every shortcoming, every sin, but look on in forgiveness, love, and longing... for you. How undeserving am I, how ugly must the scar be that I left on the back of Christ, BUT STOP. This isn't what He sees. When I sing to my Jesus, to my God... he sees my weak expression of love, and he loves it. He rejoices over it! What amazing love, amazing grace. The father picks up his robe, and runs, unashamedly to his dirty, smelly, undeserving, humbled daughter... and embraces her without the slightest hesitation!
I don't understand it. I don't. I wish I did. And I'll keep trying to, as long as I live. But you know what I love? I don't have to understand it in order for it to be so. The closest I've come to understanding God's love for me, has been seeing Christ's body, battered, and hanging on the cross, and thinking... that has to be enough... to make anything possible.
So I will sing to God. Right to God. And strive to let his love change me.