Hope falls from the sky

There are days when i listen to my friends who write music and i get so jealous of them. I wish i could articulate the feelings of my heart in music. There are moments i am given tunes to carry with me, but the words come from a different place. they flow freely and I can't wrap them into a verse or chorus.

I listen to all of my favorite groups, and wonder how they can all write so well, yet give the same message. I mean, it is all about life, and no one has life figured out yet, or ever. We stumble, we sink, we are rude, or even mean. But we live. And all of my friends that are on a quest to the REAL Jesus are just trying to do their best. I guess sometimes i just wish i didn't know i had a choice. I wish i had to believe what my parents taught me, or what i learned in Sunday school. But even then, those things are so skewed. I memorized I Corinthians 13 when I was in 8th grade. We all took a verse or two and recited it for the whole congregation. They were just words, like the Pledge of Allegiance, said without meaning, without conviction. The passion comes in understanding.

I feel the world is getting confused. I hate looking through magazines anymore, everyone wanting something, everyone has a statement. Rob Bell speaks the words of GOD. ... Maybe he does.

But my heart begins to think that Jesus is becoming, hidden. He isn't out there anymore. He isn't understood. You just can't put him in a box anymore, or qualify him as this way or that. Now, all of a sudden, you have to KNOW him. But can Jesus be everything to everyone? Can he be the man who blesses the rich and sleeps with the poor? Can he be solemn and a rebel? Traditional and Contemporary? Isn't he the same guy as yesterday, today, and forever? Then who is he? Is he just who i make him to be? Is he just who i want him to be?

I realize I am only 33. I know i will never have the answers to the questions of life. But i long to know this Saviour of mine. There are times where i do feel i have met him. He has touched me, my face, my cheek. He has danced with me in sorrow, literally. He has given me the pearl ring to wear, as his. I have encountered a Jesus. my Jesus. He loves. He directs. He waits. He laughs. He longs. He sits in the rain under a tree with me, getting dirty, being washed clean. and in the morning, we walk. again.

I don't see this man very often. Not for lack of trying, but the world gets in my way. decisions (some I make monsters out of), are to be made.

My vision has not left me. I still see times past. I can not see into the future, i don't know what it looks like, or how it will feel. I think it will hurt. i think it will love. sometimes it makes me tired. sometimes it makes me cry. and then hope falls from the sky reminding me that he is coming. that he is here even now. I smile knowing that he is here, somewhere. even with me.