Time’s Momentary Dance

There’s a place dirt roads can’t reach. Its a patch of mom’s hugs and God’s funny bone. Work’s rush slows, eyes close to focus, and I’m dry in the storm. Heaven’s whisper is breath to my day. The heart desires no more for home has been refined and is more than a feeling. Death to self is an introduction to the One that is life; life beyond me.

I’m going to attempt to explain why and how I have come to appreciate God has a friend and not just ruler or King. For awhile now, I have adorned Jesus with accolades that were far too short of what He deserves. I am a man and have lived as such. I am able to label God and all “His stuff” as some sort of U-haul box that needs unpacked during certain parts of the day. God can easily become a paint that covers my problems to make me feel better. I treat my Lord has some sort of makeover show. Yet, so desperately, He wants a new house all together. And as of recent, He’s been moving me in.

The more I am able to dig into the lives of others, the less I have to focus on me and my problems. In the “Christian world”, so many push the idea of having a devotional time with the Lord. We are to read the Bible and pray and invite God to be with us throughout our day. The premise is solid; the execution gets distorted. No book, no words, no song, no pen or paper is needed…a walk in the grass, skippin’ rocks on the glass-still water, a drive down the highway with no shoulder, or counting planes in the night sky. God’s a friend that needs attention.

Faces of others is where I begin. A smile with the eyes and a laughter of the heart starts the change. A God-size love is effortless. It can’t be found on a shelf, in a bag, or by one’s command. The wind delivers it, kids live it, adults take it from one another. We judge, hold a grudge, seek revenge, and battle for attention. We hide in our shame, hold onto our habits, and question God’s ever presence. Intelligence and knowledge substitute faith and trust. Self-talk, Self-denial, Self-hatred are given permission to destroy and disrupt His plan for success and true joy. We define ourselves before we give Him the floor.

My life is the recipe for give up. I have been handed the exit route too many times. Yet, I feel more like Wile E Coyote than I do a stronger man. I am 0-16,724 in fights with God. He gives me His plan, but not the time. He shows me greatness, but tells me to be patient. I feel as if He is balking at my abilities or willingness to accomplish what is before me. But then it happens, the phone rings or the person approaches and God comes from behind, “Tah-dah!” And God begins to play the music for this time’s momentary dance.

Love is the space between His outstretched left hand and His outstretched right hand. “I love you” from the depths of Candice’s raspy angelic voice is sweeter than honeysuckle found in the Smokey Mountains. Logan choosing to get up from his seat to come get close to me is the absolute replica of how my God feels when I seek to be close to Him. Hud stares into my eyes to know daddy’s heart. Sam needs to tell me about her day, everyday. Madi needs her father to pause in front of her and tell her of my pride I feel for her. My family needs me to be inspired to lead; not just lead out of “have to.” Friends need me to encourage them without anything expected in return. Strangers need me to be ready to know them before I know their name.

Work beckons, Bills call, and Problems fight back…but I can’t be defined by the fear of failure, paralyzation of rejection, or the burden of loneliness. Even humility can’t be accomplished alone. Nah, its time to get back to basics. Time to get beyond real. Lately, my life calls for simple…love the now.

I am an East Tennessee boy that went to my first college football game at age 4. I was hooked on Tennessee football. I will always be a big fan of the Hot Wheels big wheel. I will always remember the raccoons in the dumpster near our apartment in Louisville, Kentucky. A little white church in small-town America will be cherished til I die. Brazil changed me. The beach means more than most will ever know. At the age of 18, traveling on my own was the beginning of a transformation. College was a time to let go of God…and then to find Him before I left. And now, being entrusted with family, friends, church…life. I’m still dancing. And He is my music.

Love me not for what I say or do. Love me not for a story, a joke, or service. Love me for the song that is being played. Love me for the story being written. Love me for the man I strive to be.

Its okay to be quiet.  To be still, chill, calm. Time to get away, sleep, read is needed. So many lay awake every night trying to figure things out. Some lay there freaking out. The red numbers of the clock become your only friend. Wishing on simpler times doesn’t change a thing. Life feels like its sitting up all night waiting to poke you in the ribs as soon as the sun rises. But a hug changes that. A note of loving words can be bring a perspective shift. A God-sized revelation is reassuring.

Tonight…I have a lot on me. There is so much I need to do. But when placed next to His plan, its all gonna work out. And if it doesn’t, He’s still my tire swing at the lake…free to laugh and let go.

Pushing forward, one foot in front of another, one day at a time…fine. But I am on the ready to run when the gun goes off. Sunny days and rain-filled ones will still result in a smile. Choosing to love life is becoming easier. Lord, may others choose to hear this time’s music. The dance is relieving.

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