Tuesday, October 22, 2013

To you my future is a memory

I have been really bad about writing on this; sorry about that. Lots of personal stuff going on that is taking precedence (as it should).

But I wanted to write about something God is showing me. Something I probably won’t be able to explain.

It comes in the form of, surprise, lyrics:

“When I’m lost in the mystery, to you my future is a memory.”

It is from the song “Already There,” by Casting Crowns.

Now, I am not a big Casting Crowns fan – nothing against them; they’re just not my style – and so I often change the station when a song of theirs comes on. But one day a little while back, that song was on, and for whatever reason, I didn’t flip from it.

And I actually heard that line, for the first time.

I will start by saying this: I have tattoo plans. ;) ;)

God has promised me many things. It is easy to believe them when I am focusing on him, looking at him, seeking him. When I am trusting him, truth is clear, and the lies are ridiculously silly. When I glance away – look at the waves, the darkness, the mountains – I start questioning, wondering if I heard him correctly. I start falling to the lies that start with the whisper, “Did God really say?”

I know that God is the beginning and the end, that he exists outside of time, that time is his creation.

The promises he has given me, he hasn’t promised those in the human way. Human promises, truly, are subject to change. No matter how deeply a human wants to keep a promise, no matter how sincere they are when they give it, humans are fallible.

But God is infallible. Perfect. Incapable of lying, for he doesn’t simply tell the truth, he IS truth.

When God tells me that he is going to restore us, that he is going to heal us, that he is going to create a garden from ruins, he is not merely giving me a hopeful prediction for the future, he is not merely telling me his proposed plan (a plan which may change).

He is telling me what he sees.

He is standing at the end of my earthly life, looking back on it, and giving me a few glimpses of what he sees. What he KNOWS will happen. What he – from where he is – has already brought about.

He is telling me pieces of my future because to him, my future is the past. It is a memory. It has already happened.

Does that make sense? Even remotely?

It’s like, God knows the end of the story (because he wrote it), while I am just starting it. And I am struggling with it, with what is going on in it, with where things look like they are going. I’m not sure I want to turn the page, not sure how I can continue reading the story, because there isn’t much hope here, and I don’t want to read a tragedy. I want something redemptive.

And he is giving me hints of what is to come, promising that I’ll like where it goes, that it will be beautiful. No spoilers, because he isn’t saying HOW, but he is essentially telling me, “Hey, R, it is a happy ending; I can promise you that. It might look dark and hopeless now, might be full of pain right now, but let me tell you, it is a beautiful tale of redemption. The ending isn’t the only thing that’s good – there is a ton of joy along the way. It gets so much better; you can’t even imagine where it goes and what happens. All of the stuff right now – it’s just making it a better story, with a better journey, and a better ending. So buckle your seatbelt and keep reading.”

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