Finding the Savior

I have been grasping - struggling - for words on how to respond to the tragedy that has befallen the Gulf coast. I have wanted to write something, anything, that we may not be hasty in considering this great trouble and then quickly drop it without learning anything. Without experiencing some form of revelation from the One who, throughout the unfolding of the storm and its severe aftermath, has been called upon and cursed, blamed and bullied, incorrectly invoked, desperately defended, piously purposed ... So much of us, so little of God. Where is He in all this sadness, this chaos, this anger, this hopelessness? Where is our Savior?

Beyond that question, I had no words. But today, while at work, thinking about a dozen different things completely unrelated to Katrina and her devastation, I reheard the words from a favorite song of mine as it softly played from my computer's speakers. They reminded of the plight of so many, even beyond our own shaken borders to the depressively torn regions across this globe. I share them with you now.

Under Bridges by Reese Roper

Yesterday while walking beneath an overpass
I saw the figure of Jesus
standing barefoot on broken glass
His beard was graying
Smell of urine filled the air
Asking if I had some change
Anything that I could spare

Emaciated, his shaking fist balled up
Influenza and pneumonia
Begging God to take his cup
So different from his pictures
Breathing air through yellowed tubes
Jesus Christ, dying of AIDS
can look right through you

And all have hated
Crucified and walked away
Savior of the prostitutes, drunkards, rapists
and the gays

Under bridges with hands raised
From the ghettos they praise his name
Broken, crippled, in the dark of night
Raise your voices to Jesus Christ
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah











"The King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers and sisters of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.'" - Matthew 25:40

When the whirlwind passes, the wicked is no more, but the righteous has an everlasting foundation." - Proverbs 10:25

May we never think that we ourselves can never be included in the "least of these." May we never assume that the ground beneath our feet is everlasting simply because it has yet to be shaken. May we pray for forgiveness that we show so little compassion compared to that of Christ, and beg him to lead us confidently into the fray. Only there, deep amidst this despairing world, is found the grandest of wonders; only there is the true Savior.

Somebody Stopped Me

Stating the obvious: I have not written anything on this blog for a while. The reason: somebody stopped me - somebody stopped me from thinking solely about myself, in having any driving concern for my own thoughts. I've been lost in the joy and the wonder of another person, and sometimes there are no words when you are lost like that. Besides, most people are not normally interested in hearing very much about a person's new-found feelings for someone else. You know what I mean.

"How are you, Vernon?"
"Not bad, actually. I met someone." (After all, many times you cannot stop the excitement of this from overflowing into speech.)
"Really?"
"Yeah, she's great."
"Where's she from? What's her name?"
"She's from Houston and goes to school in New York. Her name's Leigh."
"Great, good for you."

Conversation over for the one who asked. Conversation just begun for the one who met Leigh. It is somewhere around that moment where the two of you begin to separate. Why are we not more overjoyed with someone when they are overjoyed? Is it jealousy, carelessness, or just a growing pervasion of cynicism?

Needless to mention, however, such lack of concern from some does not trouble me. My close friends care, and that is nice. What better way to shirk off the self-centeredness of the world than by showing interest in the details of another's life? We should all be so selfless. I suppose this is the way you find out who are your true friends. Will I be so concerned when it is not me - when someone I know has big news?

But somebody has stopped me. Though, of course, when you meet someone you think of yourself in relation to that person, it is refreshing that my thoughts are no longer consumed with myself, my future, my call, my day-to-day activities, my purpose ... Instead, a significant amount of time is passed every day thinking about someone else, concerning myself with her. And this is fine with me - Leigh is much more captivating to me than I am to myself.

I am glad she stopped me. It is good to be halted. May I forever be stopped.

Houston to the Rest of My Life

It doesn't take much to render me in a sentimental mood. I think I have always existed in a partial sentimental mood. On Saturday morning, all it took was a playlist of good songs and an open highway snaking its way west through Texas. Worship at 70 miles an hour; is there a better kind?

I was driving home to Buda from Houston, an absolute mess of emotions, which I often find are the ideal personal ingredients for entering into a time of praise - those scattered times in which you realize no one on earth knows exactly where you are, and so in this way you are known only to God, and there is a noticeable presence wrapped around your aloneness. I was feeling stretched and somewhat confused. Stretched because someone I was immediately concerned with was also traveling at that time, moving in almost the complete opposite direction from me, and there was that well-known feeling of separation that is impossible to shake. Confused because, like the countryside that lay far around the bend ahead of me, my future (what I am going to do ... what am I going to be?) was unseen, unknowable. And Saturday morning I was particularly concerned with my future.

It is a hard thing to balance the desire to plan out our lives to the smallest degree, and the call to live in the freeing reality of casting all our cares upon our overly capable God. Entrusting a future we cannot envision to a God we cannot see often challenges our equilibrium, mocks even our common sense. And for anyone that is even remotely compulsive when it comes to the big question, "What comes next?” it is hard to lay aside our own blueprints/schemes for our future without proof that God will give it his undivided attention. In Scripture, Jesus says that the Spirit "will guide you into all truth,"” but the stink of it is that we are not consulted as to whether or not this truth suits what we desire for ourselves.

And then, in that moment of mind-racing worship, down HWY 80 between Luling and San Marcos, wondering of God, thinking of home, and missing a girl, there came these words gently trickling from my car speakers: "I've never seen that Spirit wind, but I have seen the tall grass bend. Still I'll follow it, wherever it may bring us." I'd heard these words before, but never pondered them. They were much welcomed.

I doubt I will ever hear God speak to me audibly. I don't know if I'll ever get a handle on this leading of the Spirit. But I can look out my window right now and see grass and tree limbs bending with the wind, and I am reminded that behind all the physics of atmosphere and pressure systems, there is a God directing it all, and he is good. For the rest of my life, this truth will stand.

And even the grass bends with purpose ... So much more shall I.