Going back…

A made a trip this past weekend. The youth group from the church I grew up in had planned a reunion, and I wanted to be a part of it. I couldn’t afford to fly, and I actually enjoy driving, so I decided to cover the roughly 700 miles (each way) to reconnect with sites and people and experiences from long ago.

I’m not sure what a pilgrimage is, but this sure felt like one.

I looked up the word pilgrimage and I discovered it means a “journey of moral or spiritual significance.” I suppose it was a spiritual journey, in that everything I do as a follower of Jesus is spiritual. But under those terms going to Walmart is also spiritual and I’ve never felt like I’m on a great quest when I’m headed to pick up shaving cream or more peanut butter cups. No, this was something more than an ordinary road trip, more than a reunion, more than a trip down memory lane. It had weight to it, and importance. It carried…gravitas.

It was a pilgrimage (of sorts).

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The wave

Love is like a wave, overwhelming everything.

It consumes selfish agendas,

washes out political opinion,

sweeps divisiveness away.

It slams into shore with the force of grace, equality, selflessness.

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Sometimes, you just have one of those moments.

I was at a conference for Christian leaders called Catalyst, 13,000 people in the arena, nearly all of those voices raised in song..

Standing up from crags and clay
The peaks of earth
In full display
They break the lines
That break the sky
That’s full of life
Full of life

The chaos of creation’s dance
A tapestry, a symphony
Of life himself
Of love herself
It’s written in our very skin

All praises to the one who made it all
Who made it all
All praises to the one who made it all
And finds it beautiful

It was one of those moments.

And what was happening to me felt like the scene in Jurassic Park where Mr. DNA explained how they made a dine-ah-sour by filling in the missing parts of the DNA strand with genetic code from a frog.

Because I have missing parts of me, things that are broken, empty, thirsty, incomplete. And in the moment, it was as if the words and music, this graceful poetry, began attaching itself to my DNA, fusing those gaps, bringing me to wholeness, pumping life into my blood. I wasn’t repeating a song that was out there, the song had become a part of me. It was flowing through my veins and I was exhaling the byproduct of the fusion of my soul with the truth that it told so artistically, so freely, so joyfully. The song implanted in my cells, moved to my heart, swelled in my lungs and came out through my mouth. Breath, tone, volume, voice. It was pure, unfiltered, fearless worship.

It was one of those moments.

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