Divine Plagiarism

‘Maybe redemption has stories to tell,
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell,
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where are you going to go… Salvation is here.’ - Switchfoot, Dare You to Move.

Try, fail, quit, run. A sequence I knew all too well. Find enough hope to give it a shot again, but make sure all your bases are covered as you dip a toe into the water. As the cold water stings, pull your foot back and set yourself to flight. Banish all thoughts, all desires, anything that would make you want to hope. I lived as a coward for far too long. A man afraid of his own heart. So I ran from it, hid it, buried it, tried to placate it, to make it forget, I did anything and everything to keep it tame, to keep it from hurting me. To love was to be hurt, so therefore I would love only on my terms, only when the investment was safe. I was C.S.L’ self-invited and self-protective lovelessness. Unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

Jonah ran. God brought him back until he finally quit running. Moses at least gave it a shot. When he saw where God was moving, he determined to get there through his own strength. He made sure that he analyzed all the options, ran the numbers, and gave it a try. Running in exile, stripped of position and power, he finds himself a shepherd. Try, fail, quit, run. So decades later, when God shows up in a burning bush, his answer is ‘you’ve got the wrong guy.’ His answer is not borne of the modesty of a simple man, far from it. Moses was the child of the courts of Pharaoh, the adopted son of royalty. His answer is instead the petition of the burnt-out pastor. ‘Don’t make me go back there, I know how that story turns out. I failed, I get it. Why won’t you just leave me alone about it?’

‘You are strong, but you will never know how strong you are until you turn to face your fears.’ I knew she and I were very similar. I have to admit, though, that it did not occur to me as I said those words that they might be just as true for myself. Really, it was the story of the entire interaction between her and I. Try. Spend time with her, go on a few dates, express some interest. Fail. She runs. Quit. ‘Forget this, I’m going to pilot training.’ Run. Hide in my strengths. Lose myself in something I’m good at. Lose myself in my work. Months later, when I feel as if God is nudging me to contact her, my objection is Moses’: I know how this ends. Don’t make me go back there. Still, I find enough hope to dip one toe in. But diving is the act of letting go. You will fall on your face if you try to hold onto the shore as you enter the water. And I did. Over and over.

I am finding that ‘Never again’ is not often a promise that God lets you keep. So much has changed. Six months ago, I stopped running. And six months later, I am praying more beautiful prayers than I prayed even when things were simple. Six months later, I am more in love with God than I have ever been. I asked Him, six months ago, to teach me to love her the way He does, because I could not tell the difference between my love and my hatred. He answered that prayer. None of this has been through my own strength. I had to come to the point where my mind, my will, and my heart totally failed, and in that place I had to fall into His arms. There, He taught me the true nature of strength. In my weakness, He is strong. Through Him, I am strong. Stronger than I ever thought possible.

I had no idea how necessary this journey was. If He answers my prayers, I would still need to fight through hell for her. In order to do so, I must have fought through the hell in myself. Perhaps this is another way of saying ‘sanctification.’ Or perhaps this is C.S.L’s lawless and inordinate love. If God has found this love as a means of breaking me, if He brought me back here over and over until I would be broken, then along with C.S.L., I say ‘so be it.’ But maybe, just maybe, there is still some deep magic here. Maybe redemption still has stories to tell.

So, singing praise songs, New Years Eve at Urbana, I look back across the last year. I am not the same man that I was. Well, maybe I am, but in a very different way. I have become the man I always was but was always afraid to become. I can’t say all of this makes sense. But I am here now. I know that much. Sometimes, it is strange how things work out.