What is it about music that brings out repressed emotions from the turbulent seas of feelings and desires? Something deeper resonates within the sound of a simple chord, acting like a mirror, reflecting a vision of ourselves as we truly are. Yet the reflection that music brings is personal and subjective, intrinsically tied to the one who is viewing. Even if everyone could listen to the same song, some might hear undercurrents of guilt and lost innocence in a peaceful melody, while others might perceive the tone of love’s passion and grace in the most violent of sounds.

Standing in a plain aisle, clapping eager hands to the echoing beat of the drums. Lost in the midst of a crowd, but somehow still isolated, sheltered in a prayer of contemplation. Sensations of hypocrisy, singing I’m not looking back until I see Your face, while turning around, like Lot’s wife, to gaze upon the barren wasteland of this world. Thoughts of courage and fearlessness. Reflection.

Above all, the overwhelming sense of touching the face of God. Of seeing just a glimpse of what Moses witnessed so long ago, and wondering why the very stones with which the church was built do not burst open with the song of a thousand angels. Rapt with the vision, sight filled with chariots of fire and horses, surprised that the servant cannot see. Listening to the voice of God speak as clearly through the harmonies of music as by the burning bush in the desert. Experiencing life as it was meant to be lived.

I’ll wake up to find your glory defined… when I cross over Jordan, I know that I’ll be running home to you.

Yesterday, as I was cleaning out some files on the computer to put on my new laptop, I had a chance to read some of my old journals and essays that I had written during middle school. Wading through the sloppy vocabulary and appalling sentence structure, I was actually surprised at the concepts and ideas I was able to communicate even back then. In particular an essay I had written entitled “Empty” summarized so many feelings of so many years. Yet I was also struck by how much I have changed since those immature years. I have been transformed from that shy, insecure boy of my childhood to an almost confident and socially competent man, though sometimes I still have trouble being comfortable around certain people.

Adding to the feeling of nostalgia I received from the journals, the music I was playing brought back such vivid memories of childhood and life. I am the second man now, and you’re raising the dead in me… Wrestling with God and men, struggling at Peniel. Perhaps my name should be Israel also. So much more than conversations filled with empty words… Through the lonely times of life, always the assurance of a higher hope, of a purpose and existence beyond this life. You’re on fire when he’s near you, on fire when he speaks… The flaming words of God, the burning fire of the Spirit inside my heart, the love and compassion that pours from the face of Christ. And everything it changed overnight, this dying world you brought it back to life, and deep inside I felt things shifting, everything was melting… The freshness of life in Christ, the endless delight of finding true life in Him.

In the past week or so my walk with Christ has felt so renewed. Not that I have been doing anything differently, or have been free from sin. But I can feel the grace of God begin to grow in me again, taking my focus from my self to Him. You might say that I have been surprised by joy. Astonished at the ability of God to move us from stagnation to growth. And amazed that I could have ever wanted anything else but this Life which I am now beginning to see just a little bit more clearly. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

There is no good thing without a price. Happiness is not a life without pain, but rather a life in which the pain is traded for a worthy price. That is what you gave me, Lord. Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus

Every new day brings a fresh understanding of God and my relation to Him. I may stumble down this dark road, but the light towards which I stagger calls me onward. As the path stretches on, the very opposite of exhaustion begins. I am able to walk, yet I do not grow weary. And as I walk, I yearn for the time when I will be able to run without feeling faint.

Whatever strength I possess comes from the continual process of dying to myself and reaching for the higher purpose of God. To live through death: the death of Christ, to the death of self, to the life of grace. In the end, so much of our sorrow is caused by our own selfishness. I would rather have the hope of humility than the aching pain of arrogance.

All abilities and strengths I count as loss. The favor of this world I regard as disgrace. I will boast in weakness; I will take glory in the hope of things unseen. And any good that exists inside my being I will recognize as being only Christ. I have the grace and presence of God Himself, and that is something that I would never trade for anything in this world.

How shallow the striving in fallen soul

Searching for gold, settling for gilded dung

Finding ourselves, yet still craving the whole

In our own image our false hope is hung

What could pride profit, appearances gone?

The king of Kedar is destined to fall

But when ties are loosed, selfish weights undone

Proud chains are shattered, releasing the thrall

Snatching not at any terrestrial load

Nor yet at the sky, toward bright stars reaching

But losing naught, that might all be bestowed:

Never in loss is anything lacking

This show of content is nothing but pain.

Life must grasp higher, all heaven to gain.

Every day I climb higher the unending mountains of grace, and I am continually amazed at the height of God's mercy. Each minute that I breathe, I dive deeper into the love of God and experience the unfathomable depth of His faithfulness. I draw the water of His truth through my broken roots and feel Christ lift the leaves of my branch up to the sunlight of His Word. And through it all I shed the tattered clothes of the wanderer for the brilliant robes of the wedding feast, eating from true Bread and drinking from living Water.

The scope of His beauty spreads outside the furthest star, yet the hope of His sacrifice speaks from beyond time itself. I fall on my knees before the strength of His power, and my eyes are blinded from the splendor of His holiness. His justice melts my life in the fire of adversity, while His righteousness transmutes my lead into gold. I sell everything I own, even to the point of losing my own soul, so that I may buy the field containing untold riches. Coming to the waters not a man but a worm, I drown myself in the death of His life to live in immeasurable joy.

Words cannot express the concentration of emotion that overflows from the bountiful love of God. In Him I am constantly shown to be less than what I imagine myself to be, and He is revealed to be greater than imagination itself can conceive. I have found what I have always searched for; I am running towards Him who I cannot see and yet in whom I still believe. In the light of the glorious life He has promised, the greatest mystery is how I could want less, but I often do. However, through the midst of daunting distractions, Christ's love compels me, and I press on towards the prize, Christ Himself. And though sometimes the good I wish to do I do not do, I will find always find myself in Him, and Him alone.