"Keeper of the Way" by Ross King
Get it on NoiseTrade.

I'm gonna take some time today
To read a book I don't agree with
Find out what it has to say
And I'm gonna turn off my TV
Maybe sit there in the silence
Wonder what my life would be without the noise
Then I'm gonna find some work to do
Maybe trim my trees and hedges
Maybe trim my neighbor's too
Cause I believe it's good to labor with my hands
It's therapeutic to my soul in ways that I don't understand
But that's ok
It's all part of my plan to somehow be "all things to all men"
Though I'm a stranger in this land
I am just another keeper of the Way
And I will guard what I've been given by the Spirit for That Day
I am keeping it with every breath I take
Every part of me is rapidly slipping away
So I'm gonna speak a little less
And I will try to listen more and to assume the very best
Because I know that I don't know that much at all
So I will step a little softer, Who knows?
Maybe I won't fall so hard today
It's all part of my dream to be a whole lot more like Jesus
He was a lot more than what He seemed
I am just another keeper of the Way...
Every part of me is rapidly slipping away
Every part of You has broken thru and filled the space
I'm bringing life back into religion
I'm giving simple things the passion they deserve
I am a living, breathing agent of redemption,
Giving hope and love
A citizen of Heaven, here on earth
So I'm gonna tip my waiter 25 percent
I know a worker's worth his wages, 
So that money is well spent
And I'm gonna tell somebody all about the way
That Jesus saved me, and just maybe they'll believe in Him today
But either way
I've got to do what I can to somehow be "all things to all men"
Though I'm a stranger in this land
I am just another keeper of the Way...
Every part of You has broken thru and filled the space
There is no secular of sacred they are all the same
Every moment, every action is in Jesus' name

Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.

--Colossians 3:23-24

Emphasis

With its quiet, meandering melodies and lyrics that send me off into depths of pondering that take my mind away from me, Sleeping at Last isn't really good music for listening to on long interstate drives. Just the same, I found myself craving it and listened to Sleeping at Last during my four-hour jaunt from Parrottsville to Nashville yesterday.

I've shared Sleeping at Last's song "Emphasis" on the blog before, but I'm going to revisit some of the lines now.

First life and death--

Life is a branch and it is a dove, handcrafted by confusing love. Sign language is our reply when church bells make no sound.

Death is a cold, blind-folded kiss. It is the finger pressed upon our lips. It puts an unwanted emphasis on how we should have lived.

The song "Emphasis" starts with a metaphor of a bee, working to make honey, meeting death when it stings to protect the hive. Was life worth nothing more than honey for the queen? the song asks. Was it all just a grain of sand in an hourglass?

Those questions are simultaneously my reason for living with such urgency for accomplishments (duty to the queens of my life, need for speed since the hourglass is always running out) and my reason for questioning if I'm living life right because... what if it turns out to be all for nought? There's always the question of death and what will be accomplished before it gets here and whether anything really follows. Will anything really have mattered? Will I get to the end and find I wasted my time buzzing around the wrong hives?

I just don't really understand it all. I don't really have the full picture. I love the enigmatic line, "Life is a branch and it is a dove, handcrafted by confusing love." Branches and doves represent peace in our culture and have since the dove brought back a branch to Noah, signifying the receding of the destructive waters and the coming of safety on land and a promise from God stretched across the sky. Life, then, is peace, a peace that we can only have at the hand of Love, a love that we cannot even understand. I've never heard anyone in church or a worship song call God's love confusing, but isn't it? In a beautiful, mind-blowing, I-can't-wrap-my-mind-around it kind of way. Think of the Bible's images of love-- Abraham who would murder his own God-given miracle son for the love of God, a God who would not allow the death to occur, Hosea who takes a prostitute as his wife and redeems her to him even when she strays again and again, a God who sends His own son, His own self to the world to die to redeem a fallen bride of people who wouldn't even recognize the bridegroom. God is confusing, and, at best, sign language is all we can muster. I picture us waving frantically up to our God, to love, trying to respond appropriately, but we can't. It is too much for us even to respond intelligibly. 

Then, light and wholeness--

The smartest thing I've ever learned is that I don't have all the answers, just a little light to call my own. Though it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows, a speck of light can reignite the sun and swallow darkness whole.

Life is a gorgeous, broken gift, six billion pieces, waiting to be fixed, love letters that were never signed, sent to where we live. The sweetest thing I've ever heard is that I don't have to have the answers, just a little light to call my own. Though it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows, a speck of light can reignite the sun and swallow darkness whole.

A week ago in Sunday school, we were talking about 1 Peter 3:15 "but sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always being ready to make a defense to everyone who asks you to give an account for the hope that is in you, yet with gentleness and reverence."

I do have so much hope, so much hope in the light. So much hope in the only One who can restore wholeness in the brokenness. 

Meanwhile, what about the other six billion+ pieces? Where is the hope for them, and can they see it in me? Why don't people see it? Why is no one asking me about this life-changing hope that I have?

I don't know the answer to that startling, sobering question. Somehow, though, I feel like reading books and attending classes about being a better evangelist aren't going to change the fact that people in my life neither seem to notice nor ask about the hope that I have in Christ. I know in the deepest part of me that the only answer is Christ.

"He must increase, but I must decrease."