Monday, December 10, 2012

survival kit, pt2: Selah

I don't generally listen to the band Selah.  Honestly, I don't listen to contemporary Christian music much at all.  I find so much of it... well, nevermind what I think about that.

But, a friend (knowing what a sucker I am for tight harmony and how my heart gets healed by music) loaned me this CD during the first few weeks of the "twilight zone" (the 9-month period of time directly after "the day the world fell apart" and immediately following the "semester from hell").  I don't think the CD even made it into the house.  During the twilight zone months, my Suburban was my office.  There were many, many..... many conversations that I had to have out of earshot of my kids.  Things were insane in our world.  There were elders from 2 churches as well as RUF guys who I was keeping up with and the conversations were heavy.  There was lots of anger and fear and crying coming out of me at that time and these gracious men as well as their wives and many sweet friends listened to me for what turned into hours.

My kids got used to seeing me sit in the driveway in the 'burban talking and crying and listening to music.  They learned to leave me alone out there.  I'm sure the neighbors did, too.  It was nothing for me to stay out there for an hour or more at a time. 

One of the big things I had to work through was fault.  I was, quite frankly, obsessed with it. Whose fault was all of this mess?  I used to think everything that had happened for the previous 21 years was my fault.  It was not easy for my friends to drive this out of me.  But, while I was slogging through that emotional and spiritual swamp, I listened to this song over and over and it was a lifeline for me.  OK, not really the song itself, but the gospel in the song.  The song was anything but new to me.  But during those days something happened in my brain.  Phrases once commonplace began to mean something deep and personal.  There were no more cliches.

No matter what my fault was, I was covered because of the work of Christ on the cross.  This huge colossal mess could not erase my name from the palm of Jesus.  He had paid for my sin.  The sin I knew I had committed.  The "sin" others said I committed, but I hadn't.  The stuff I wasn't sure about.  It was all covered. 

But, it was not only my sin that was forgiven.  Sins done against me could be and should be forgiven because a Savior loved me enough.  How could I fall at the feet of Jesus and lay out my sin if I wasn't willing to reach over and grab the hand of the person beside me pouring out their own heart to Jesus in repentance.  It became the basis for forgiveness and reconciliation.  And was the beginning of the healing.