This is the longest I’ve gone without posting on my blog in literally years.
Things are getting a little out of hand over here.
I just need life to take three giant steps backward and give me room to breathe. Looking at my schedule, looking at my to-do list I can feel the panic rising up inside of me. I hear the chime of another email arriving in the inbox each moment. Did you get that thing done yet?…I need to talk to you!…Have you had a chance to…
I hate commitment. I hate expectations. I hate all the tasks and needs that are tugging on me demanding my attention. It makes me want to curl up in a ball on the floor in my closet and wait until this all passes. It makes me want to drive to Canada.
I went to see Patty Griffin a week or so ago. I stole a night back from life and snuck away – all alone. I crammed my body up close to the stage squished in by people I didn’t know and got lost in a way that I love. All of the commitments or demands or expectations seemed to evaporate.
And I asked God to meet me there. I asked Him to be the place I could crawl inside and hide.
All night long I kept squeezing my eyes shut, trying to imagine Jesus’s glory wrapped around me, keeping me safe from fear of failure and guaranteeing me all the love and affection and acceptance I need.
But all I could feel was the time ticking by until I would leave and turn my phone back on and face the world.
Even though the show was great, it came and went without this magical moment for me and God that I wanted so desperately.
Patty left the stage and the crowd around me shouted for her to return and I felt a flash of hope. I asked God to have her do an encore and sing one of the songs I love, one of the songs that He and I have talked to on long drives across Texas late at night. Just a small miracle to remind me that He’s real, that He sees me in the middle of a Patty Griffin concert and that He cares about the details of my day.
She came back out and from the first notes of the song I knew it wasn’t one of ours. Not one of mine and Gods.
So I sucked in air and managed my disappointment. I sighed and tried to just enjoy God’s little creature on that stage, singing her heart out.
But as the lyrics rushed over me I started quietly weeping. It must have looked a little crazy: one little girl surrounded by sweaty strangers on a muggy texas night, tears streaming down her face.
Because we were the only ones there – just Him and me.
Because He picked that song for me. It didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t the right song for an encore. Walking out I heard people murmuring about how they wished she’d sung more known songs at the end.
But it was the right song for a God to give to His little girl in the middle of a crazy season when she just needed to remember what’s true.
When you’re lost and you’re found
And you’re found and you’re lost
When you’re dancing with no one around –
You’re coming home to me – just remember.
You’re coming home to me.
Today I know that there are no more nights on the horizon when I can physically sneak away, so I’m sneaking away right now into Him. I’m putting my head down in this room and I’m listening to Patty’s voice – just for a minute. And with every note I’m reminded that I was made for the magic and music of another world.
Just remember. You’re coming home to me.