Your hope a fire

This has been a Sarah-Groves-music-listening kind of week (tracks 4,6,8,9,10 on her Collections album.  Over, and over, and over).  The eyes of my heart have been opened to yet another layer of the darkness that runs deep through this little corner of the world, and my soul is fighting hard to hold on to hope. 

Sometimes, you don't even know how much you're struggling with something until someone puts it into words for you, and suddenly, you're surprised at the force of your heart shattering inside.  But then, you start to heal again, because now you understand it a little bit better than before.  *Listen Here*

I saw what I saw and I can't forget it.  

I heard what I heard and I can't go back.  

I know what I know ant I can't deny it.  

Something on the road,  

Cut me to the soul.  


Your pain has changed me,
 
Your dream inspires
 
Your face a memory
 
Your hope a fire
 
Your courage asks me what I'm afraid of
 
and what I know of love
...
and what I know of God. 



There's been a question out on the table between God and me for a while now, "What do you feel when you see injustice?"  I just want to know.  What does God think when his handiwork takes every last good gift and mysterious blessing and the powerful capacity that he has given us, and twists it for evil?  When we steal, and kill, and destroy, choosing to be children of darkness rather than children of light?  
When God gathers our tears, does he pour out ones of his own, or does he cry out in joyful victory over the brokenness?  Does he somehow do both? 

I am not strong enough to fight this.  Sometimes, I think the scariest part of injustice is that it mirrors the unredeemed places in our own souls.  If I can't win here, on the inside, in the one and only place over which I have total responsibility, what could I ever do out there, against the great and terrible forces of highly trained and well-organized evil?  

That is the point.  I have never been strong enough to fight this.  It has always been bigger than me, stronger than me, and smarter than me.  So, God in his mercy did what I could not.  He conquered the sin inside me when he had none.  Where I have corrosion, faults, compromise, and weakness, Jesus Christ had strength, integrity, purity, and wholeness.  From that strength, he moved against the sin outside of me, too.  Where I have selfish rebellion, he had sacrificial love.  He made one strategic move against sin that only God could make; Emmanuel enveloped death with his life.  

At what point will there be no more depths to sound of this overwhelming darkness?  How fathomless is the crushing power of evil?  

I don't know.   

What I do know is that God has wrapped redemption around the ends of infinity.  He is always one step deeper and one step farther than every last ocean of darkness.  In one step, God is infinitely greater than even the most endless darkness.  In his time, all things will be made new.  We do not fight a hopeless battle.  


One day voices that lie 
will all be silenced, 
One day all that's divided 
will be whole again, 
One day death 
will retreat and wave its white flag
One day Love 
will defeat the strongest enemy, 

One day eyes that are blind 
will see You clearly, 
One day all who deny 
will finally believe, 
One day hearts made of stone 
will break in pieces, 
One day chains once unbroken 
will fall down at Your feet,

So we wait for that one day, 

Come quickly! 

We want to see Your glory. 
Song Credit: Glory, Selah with Nichole Nordeman