Rich Mullins performing “Doubly Good To You,” a song he wrote but was originally released by Amy Grant
“Doubly Good To You” by Rich Mullins
If you see the moon Rising gently on your fields If the wind blows softly on your face If the sunset lingers While cathedral bells peal And the moon has risen to her place
You can thank the Father For the things that he has done And thank him for the things he’s yet to do And if you find a love that’s tender If you find someone who’s true Then thank the Lord He’s been doubly good to you
And if you look in the mirror At the end of a hard day And you know in your heart you have not lied And if you gave love freely If you earned an honest wage And if you’ve got Jesus by your side
You can thank the Father For the things that he has done And thank him for the things he’s yet to do And if you find a love that’s tender If you find someone who’s true Thank the Lord He’s been doubly good to you
Dear God, this is just a great song. Nice and simple. a reminder to count our blessings. The end.
Ah, but then there is the rest of the story. Rich Mullins wrote this for his own wedding that never happened. He lost the “doubly good” about which he was singing. Of course, Rich never experienced having children. I can attest that there can be windows in life when your marriage and kids are all great at the same time, and it really feels like even a “triple” goodness. But then those windows pass and things don’t play out like you hope. How will I respond?
I spent some time last week while I was sick pouring over old pictures of my wife and kids. Those pictures always encourage me. They remind me that there was legitimate goodness at one time. That my mind hasn’t imagined it. No, the photos didn’t capture the pain between the smiles. There are holes in the story for which I don’t know the content. But it really does help me to lean into the pain of the current loss I feel from no longer having that sense of “triple goodness” and embrace the life you e given to me now.
So, Father, thank you for the things you have done and the things you’ve yet to do. Help me to be your complete servant today.
I pray all of this under your authority and in your name,
The waves crash in The tide rolls out It’s an angry sea But there is no doubt That the lighthouse Will keep shining out To warn a lonely sailor
And the lightning strikes And the wind cuts cold Through the sailor’s bones Through the sailor’s soul ‘Til there’s nothing left That he can hold Except a rolling ocean
Oh, I am ready for the storm Yes, sir, ready I am ready for the storm I’m ready for the storm
Oh, give me mercy For my dreams ‘Cause every confrontation seems To tell me What it really means To be this lonely sailor
And when the sky begins to clear The sun it melts away my fear And I cry a silent weary tear For those who mean to love me
Oh, I am ready for the storm Yes, sir, ready I am ready for the storm I’m ready for the storm
The distance it is no real friend And time will take its time And you will find that in the end It brings you me This lonely sailor
And when You take me by the hand And You love me, Lord, You love me And I should have realized I had no reasons to be frightened
Oh, I am ready for the storm Yes, sir, ready I am ready for the storm Yes, sir, ready I am ready for the storm Yes, sir, ready I am ready for the storm I’m ready for the storm
Written by Dougie MacLean
Dear God, here are my thoughts on this song I know through Rich Mullins. It’s one of those songs I’ve never paid must attention to regarding the meaning of the verses. I can just sing along with the chorus.
Verse 1: I just picture the song writer, Dougie MacLean, sitting on a rocky coast in Ireland (to hear him sing he sounds Irish) and watching the waves crash against the shore while a lighthouse sits nearby. He’s imaging the relationships between the sailor, the boat, the water, the shore, the wind, and that lighthouse. From nature’s standpoint, the sailor is the only thing that is superfluous. They are all there for him. The sailor needs the boat. He needs the water to travel wherever he is going or hunt for whatever he is fishing for. He needs the shore for his life off of the boat. He even needs the wind, although he doesn’t need the storm. He needs the lighthouse to direct him from crashing into the shore. But none of these things need him. Their existence would be the same if he was or wasn’t there–well, maybe not the boat since the boat would be docked without the sailor.
Verse 2: The confrontations in my life leave me feeling like this sailor: Vulnerable. In danger. Dependent. Needing to struggle to survive. Lonely. “For those who mean to love me.” That could mean so many things. Did they love him and do the right things to confront him, but he rejected them? Did they reject him for the wrong reasons? With the sky clearing and the sun melting away fears…you know, this almost makes me think of someone going through rehab. The confrontation–intervention. The loneliness. The storm of getting sober. The lighthouse guiding to shore, but protecting as well. The sobriety melting away the fears. The tear realizing how others were loving him through the intervention. I could be totally wrong, but that’s what came to mind when I started to ponder the words a little.
Verse 3: Playing with my sobriety theory, the difficult thing about addiction is that it doesn’t really pass with time. Oh, perhaps it does a little, but it’s only one slip away. The distance is no real friend. You can still be lonely, even in your sobriety. But you take us by the hand, God. You comfort us. Love us. Give us peace. And the more we get to know you the more we realize that we have nothing to really fear. You are our hope and loving you is what it’s ultimately all about.
Father, I will never sing with passion that I am ready for the storm. Okay, never say never, but it is hard to imagine egging on Satan, you, or anything else in that way. But there are times when I have to set my face to the wind and just decide I’m going to do better, whatever that “better” might be. Life can be lonely, but I am blessed beyond measure by the wife you’ve given to me. And I’m not just saying that because that is what Christian husbands are supposed to say about their wives. She is unbelievable and amazing. She is so good for me. You do so much in me through her. Thank you that, for at least this moment, I am not a lonely sailor.
I pray all of this in the name of you, your son, and your Holy Spirit,
Dear God, it’s interesting that Rich Mullins died young because he had a couple of really interesting songs about the end of life here on earth and transitioning to you. He probably had more, but these are the two that come to mind immediately.
The first one, which was on his first album, was called “Elijah”
“Elijah” by Rich Mullins
The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through My heart is aging I can tell So Lord, I’m begging for one last favor from You Here’s my heart take it where You will
This life has shown me how we’re mended and how we’re torn How it’s okay to be lonely as long as you’re free Sometimes my ground was stony And sometimes covered up with thorns And only You could make it what it had to be And now that it’s done Well if they dressed me like a pauper Or if they dined me like a prince If they lay me with my fathers Or if my ashes scatter on the wind I don’t care
But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire And when I look back on the stars It’ll be like a candlelight in Central Park And it won’t break my heart to say goodbye
There’s people been friendly, but they’d never be your friends Sometimes this has bent me to the ground Now that this is all ending I want to hear some music once again ‘Cause it’s the finest thing that I have ever found
But the Jordan is waiting Though I ain’t never seen the other side Still they say you can’t take in the things you have here So on the road to salvation I stick out my thumb and He gives me a ride And His music is already falling on my ears
There’s people been talking They say they’re worried about my soul Well, I’m here to tell you I’ll keep rocking ‘Til I’m sure it’s my time to roll And when I do
When I leave I want to go out like Elijah With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire And when I look back on the stars It’ll be like a candlelight in Central Park And it won’t break my heart to say goodbye
‘Cause when I leave I want to go out like Elijah With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire And when I look back on the stars It’ll be like a candlelight in Central Park And it won’t break my heart to say goodbye
There are a few lines of this song at the beginning that really speak to me.
This life has shown me how we’re mended and how we’re torn How it’s okay to be lonely as long as you’re free Sometimes my ground was stony And sometimes covered up with thorns And only You could make it what it had to be
I just bolded some specific words out of the first two lines here: “This life has shown me…it’s okay to be lonely as long as you’re free.” What an interesting thing that our society has given us. Now, I’m not saying that I want to be subjugated to the government or anything like that, but certainly the two greatest commandments demand that we give up some of that freedom so that we can be your blessing both to you and to others around us. I give up my life for you. I give up my rights to serve others.
I think that is something that frustrates me about the American Evangelical Church right now. It is fighting for its rights and its freedom. I heard a pastor I respect say, “The Church is at its worst when it’s fighting for its own rights, but it is at its best when it is fighting for the rights of others.” I think the same is probably true for us as individuals as well, but we need to make sure that right is a legitimate right that they need.
I think the next lines in that of that stanza I pasted above are even more poetic and meaningful to me: “Sometimes my ground was story//And sometimes covered up with thorns.” Of course, this is an allusion to the parable of the sower (Matthew 13). The stony-soiled heart has no depth or root. No discipleship. The thorny-soiled heart is overrun by the cares of the world. Yeah, there are times when I let my soil get hard and the roots are shallow and fragile. More often, however, my heart is distracted by the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of wealth. When I look back, how much of my life will have been spent providing the Holy Spirit good soil with which to work? No enough.
Then there’s my favorite of Rich’s death songs, “Be with You.”
“Be with You” by Rich Mullins
Everybody each and all We’re gonna die eventually It’s no more or less our faults Than it is our destiny So now Lord I come to you Asking only for Your grace You know what I’ve put myself through All those empty dreams I chased
And when my body lies in the ruins Of the lies that nearly ruined me Will You pick up the pieces That were pure and true And breathe Your life into them And set them free?
And when You start this world over Again from scratch Will You make me anew Out of the stuff that lasts? Stuff that’s purer than gold is And clearer than glass could ever be Can I be with You? Can I be with You?
And everybody all and each From the day that we are born We have to learn to walk beneath Those mercies by which we’re drawn And now we wrestle in the dark With these angels that we can’t see We will move on although with scars Oh Lord, move inside of me
And when my body lies in the ruins Of the lies that nearly ruined me Will You pick up the pieces That were pure and true And breathe Your life into them And set them free?
And when You blast this cosmos To kingdom come When those jagged-edged mountains I love are gone When the sky is crossed with the tears Of a thousand falling suns As they crash into the sea Can I be with you? Can I be with you?
Songwriters: Benjamin Justin Peters / Richard Mullins
This song is just a simple request. Earth is good. Life here is good. It’s taught me a lot. But it’s just a staging ground. It’s a vapor. Each person has their own course through it. Destiny, if you will. Some were murdered this week in Ukraine, in Uvalde, and in different parts of our country and the entire world. Some died of disease, and some in simple accidents. Unbeknownst to me, my time could be just around the corner. But none of that really matters in the grand scheme of things, I suppose. 100 years from now, with very few exceptions, just about every person who is alive now will be dead. We will all be in the same place. When that happens, this is the request all of us will have: “Can I be with you?” That’s what the TV show “The Good Place” missed. It saw heaven as just a good place that (spoiler alert) got boring. But they missed two things: 1.) the measurement of time as we know it now won’t exist there and 2.) we get to simply be in your presence and I assume that, if time were still measured in the same way, your presence would still make it disappear. No, I’m not worried about getting bored there. I just want to be with you.
Father, help me to prepare fertile soil in my heart for you today. Do it through time with you, through worshipping you with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength. Do it through me learning to love my neighbors better. Do it through your Holy Spirit guiding, comforting, and counseling me in the right direction.
After Terah was 70 years old, he became the father of Abram, Nahor, and Haran. This is the account of Terah’s family. Terah was the father of Abram, Nahor, and Haran; and Haran was the father of Lot. But Haran died in Ur of the Chaldeans, the land of his birth, while his father, Terah, was still living. Meanwhile, Abram and Nahor both married. The name of Abram’s wife was Sarai, and the name of Nahor’s wife was Milcah. (Milcah and her sister Iscah were daughters of Nahor’s brother Haran.) But Sarai was unable to become pregnant and had no children. One day Terah took his son Abram, his daughter-in-law Sarai (his son Abram’s wife), and his grandson Lot (his son Haran’s child) and moved away from Ur of the Chaldeans. He was headed for the land of Canaan, but they stopped at Haran and settled there. Terah lived for 205 years and died while still in Haran. The Lord had said to Abram, “Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father’s family, and go to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you and make you famous, and you will be a blessing to others. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who treat you with contempt. All the families on earth will be blessed through you.” So Abram departed as the Lord had instructed, and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he left Haran.
Genesis 11:26-12:4
Dear God, maybe we aren’t as great as we think we are. Maybe, sometimes, we are just convenient to your plan.
It’s interesting that Genesis doesn’t really give us any great insights into why you chose Abram. I imagine it had something to do with the fact that he was pretty much willing to do any weird thing you asked him to do.
Leave your family and go where I tell you (to be disclosed later). Okay
Listen to Sarah and send Hagar and Ishmael off to seemingly die. Okay.
Sacrifice your son on an altar to me. Sure.
I would imagine that the people around Abram/Abraham thought he was pretty weird. A religious zealot. But you gave him credibility through the blessings you gave him so I would imagine that was enough reason for the people around him to go along with him.
Is everything I just typed heresy? I don’t know. Maybe. But then I think of Paul. It certainly wasn’t his love for Jesus or goodness that made you call him. It was his zeal that you knew you could redeem and redirect for your purposes (is that more heresy?). Samson? Well, Samson was just a mess of a person, but certainly your person for a specific time. It certainly wasn’t his goodness or love for justice and mercy that earned him your favor. Jacob? A scoundrel if ever there was one, but you had some specific plan for this clan spawned by Abram through Isaac and Ishmael. Thousands of years later, and these are the two dominant religions in the world.
It makes me think of a Rich Mullins song called “Who God is Gonna Use.”
As part of the intro to this YouTube video he said, “Some people say, ‘Rich, don’t you feel like a phony talking about Christ?’ And I say, ‘No, I don’t because I don’t believe Christ loves me because I’m good.'” Then he goes on to sing about all of these people in the Bible you used about whom there was nothing particularly Godly. Balaam’s donkey. Pharaoh’s daughter who found Moses. Esther. Pilate.
So what’s my point in all of this? I think it’s that I can let go of any search for significance and rest assured that whatever significance you want my life to have you can accomplish with or without my decision to be significant. My job is to love you with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love my neighbor as myself. I’m called to do that because you deserve that. As to my worth in your kingdom, one day you will hold me accountable for what I did or didn’t do with my life.
“But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit upon his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered in his presence, and he will separate the people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep at his right hand and the goats at his left. “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’ “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’
Matthew 25:31-40
I’ll admit that I don’t try to solve every problem I see. I don’t think there is any way that I possibly can. But then again, that is why you have the body of Christ and not just me. My job is to be sensitive to what you are calling me to do.
Father, give me ears to hear and eyes to see. Help me to not embrace my own posterity, but to embrace you. Help me to also see others through your eyes. Help me to not judge. To not assign a “kingdom value” to them. I would have totally discounted Abram, Jacob, and Samson. There are national leaders whom I discount now. I definitely have my opinions about who should win the next election for president, and I will vote that way, but I can also recognize that I don’t know your heart on this and I will trust that you are working out a greater plan that I cannot see even if it looks on the surface like we are taking two steps backward.
Though we’re strangers, still I love you
I love you more than your mask
And you know you have to trust this to be true
And I know that’s much to ask
But lay down your fears, come and join this feast
He has called us here, you and me
And may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
Little keepers of the promise
Falling on these souls
This drought has dried
In His Blood and in His Body
In the Bread and in this Wine
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you
And though I love you, still we’re strangers
Prisoners in these lonely hearts
And though our blindness separates us
Still His light shines in the dark
And His outstretched arms are still strong enough to reach
Behind these prison bars to set us free
So may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
Little keepers of the promise
Falling on these souls the drought has dried
In His Blood and in His Body
In this Bread and in this Wine
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you
And may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
Like those little keepers of the promise
Falling on these souls the draught has dried
In His Blood and in His Body
In the Bread and in this Wine
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you
Songwriters: David Strasser / Richard Mullins
Dear God, I was thinking about the potentially tumultuous day I have ahead of me today, and I thought of this song. I need your peace to fall on me today and then flow through me. I need it to fall on everyone at the office. I need it to fall on the patients and volunteers. I need it to fall on the staff. Peace. Peace of Christ.
What does “peace of Christ” look like? Well, it’s hard to explain because it is the peace that passes understanding. I cannot describe what the peace of Christ looks like, but I do know some things about it. First, it can get angry because Jesus did get angry. It also looks beyond the surface of others and sees them with your eyes. It comes from loving you with all of my heart, mind, soul, and strength, and loving our neighbor as myself. It will help me to die to my rights and what makes me comfortable if it means doing what you’ve called me to do, and being truly okay with it.
Father, I am really going to need your wisdom, discernment, strength, and peace today. I submit myself to you and ask that you please be with me. Help me to be firm, but gentle. Help me to do something that is for your good and, ultimately, the good of everyone involved.
For anyone reading along with these prayer journals, this is a series in which songs I would want played at my funeral. Here is a link to the original post for more explanation.
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Dear God, I’m up to the third song on my funeral song list and the last one for the slideshow. I decided to keep the slideshow all from Rich Mullins. In this case, this is the first ever funeral song I ever picked. I probably first heard this in my early 20s and I told my fiancé (now wife) that this would make a great song for my funeral.
Everybody, each and all, we’re going to die eventually
It’s no more or less our faults than it is our destiny
So now, Lord, I come to you asking only for your grace
You know what I’ve put myself through
All those empty dreams I chased
And when my body lies in the ruins
Of the lies that nearly ruined me
Will you pick up the pieces that were pure and true
And breathe life into them, and sent them free?
And when you start this world over again from scratch
Will you make me anew out of the stuff that lasts?
Stuff that’s purer than gold is, and clearer than glass can ever be
And can I be with you? Can I be with you?
And everybody, all and each, from the day that we are born
We have to learn to walk beneath, those mercies by which we are drawn
And now we wrestle in the dark with these angels that we can’t see
We will move on, although with scars.
Oh, Lord, move inside of me!
And when my body lies in the ruins
Of the lies that nearly ruined me
Will you pick up the pieces that were pure and true
And breathe life into them, and sent them free?
And blast this cosmos to kingdom come
When those jagged edged mountains I love are gone
When the sky is crossed with the tears of a thousand falling suns
As they crash into the sea
Then can I be with you? Can I be with you?
Well, it’s pretty obvious why I think this is a funeral song. What is it I want to say to those who ware at my funeral? I guess my message is, “It’s okay. I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
The first verse is really just about the reality of death. But the chorus is a worshipful response to that, acknowledging my sin–my lies, my selfishness, my vanity. Then it’s followed up by the hope. I will be recreated in a new Heaven. I will be yours. I will be your worshipper.
The second verse talks about the journey of life. It’s a struggle. It is, indeed, a journey of mistakes, wrestling with you, getting scarred up, but allowing the scars to make us stronger. Oh, Lord, even today, move inside of me!
Finally, the last chorus changes at the end and brings us to the end of Earth and the beginning of the new Earth and the new Heaven. If the apocalypse should come before my death, then can I be with you? Can I be with you?
Dear God, as I go through the list of songs that I would have played as part of my own funeral one day, I’m up to the second one for the slideshow. In case anyone is reading these, here is a link to the first entry that will explain this a little more.
So now I’m up to “The Love of God” by Rich Mullins. I actually just journaled on this song a couple of weeks ago, but this is a different topic and reason for looking at this song so I’ll press on.
There’s a wideness in God’s mercy
I cannot find in my own
And it keeps this fire burning
To melt this heart of stone
It keeps me aching with the yearning
It keeps me glad to have been caught
In the reckless, raging fury
They call the Love of God
Now I have seen no band of angels
But I’ve heard the soldiers’ song
Love hangs over them like a banner
Love within them leads them on
To the battle on the journey
And it’s never going to stop
Ever widening their mercies
And the fury of his love
Oh, the love of God!
Oh, the love of God!
The love of God!
Joy and sorrow are in this oceans
They’re in its every ebb and flow
Now the Lord a door has opened
That all hell could never close
Here I’m tested and made worthy
Tossed about, yet lifted up
In the reckless, raging fury
That they call the love of God
I can’t for the life of me figure out why Rich said one time that he didn’t particularly care for this song. Was there something about it with which he disagreed? Were there too many times when he didn’t feel your reckless, raging fury of love?
Today, I want to focus on the mercy part of this song. In the second verse it says, “Now I have seen no band of angels/But I’ve heard the soldiers’ song/Love hangs over them like a banner/Love within them leads them on/To the battle on the journey/And it’s never going to stop/Ever widening their mercy/And the fury of his love.” It’s the journey that grows us. It’s the battle. It’s the battle against Satan. And we can fall victim to his plans or we can walk under your banner of love. Your love drives us forward. We carry your love and your Holy Spirit into the battle. And if we will stay under your banner then the battle will refine us and widen our mercy for others. It will also reveal to us more and more the fury of your love. Sorry, Rich, but you’re wrong. This is a great song.
Father, I am about to talk to a congregation about bitterness and unforgiveness. Absalom was obviously just going through the motions when he did sacrifices to you. It was a ritual to him–it wasn’t worship. If it had really been worship then he would have known that he would only be able to be king if you ordained it, not because he was good enough. Help everything that I do in relation to you be through true, God-seeking, Holy Spirit-driven, and Jesus’ redemption-receiving worship.
Dear God, I was talking with a friend recently about the songs I would want played at my funeral. I have a couple in mind, but as I woke up this morning and thought about praying to you in this journal, I got to wondering about those songs and what they say both about my relationship with you and what they reveal about what I want to say to others in one last message to them.
So, first, I need to look at the songs. Here is what I have:
If I can’t speak at my funeral, and I won’t get to write the eulogy, these will be my words to the people there. What am I trying to say with each one?
The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through
My heart is aging, I can tell
So, Lord, I’m begging for one last favor from you
Here’s my heart, take it where you will
This life has shown me how we’re mended and how we’re torn
How it’s okay to be lonely as long as we’re free
Sometimes my ground was stony, and sometimes covered up with thorns
And only you could make it what it had to be
And not that it’s done, Well, if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind I don’t care!
When I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the starts
Well it’ll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won’t break my heart to say goodbye
There’s people been friendly, but they’d never be your friend
Sometimes this has bent me to the ground
Now that this is all ending, I want to hear some music once again
‘Cause it’s the finest thing I have ever found
But the Jordan is waiting, Though I ain’t never seen the other side
They say you can’t take in the things you have here
So on the road to salvation, I stick out my thumb and He gives me a ride
And His music is already falling on my ears
There’s people been talking, They say they’re worried about my sould
Well, I’m here to tell you I’ll keep rocking, ’til I’m sure it’s my time to roll
And when I do
When I leave I wan to go out like Elijah,
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
Well, it’ll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won’t break my heart to say goodbye
I think I want this song to kick off the slideshow (is this prayer too morbid?), but I think I’ll need to make sure the lyrics for all of these songs are provided for people to at least look at later.
Rich died in a dramatic car accident about one month shy of his 42nd birthday, but then I guess you know that. But I think he wrote this song in his 20s. I try to imagine him reading the story of Elijah and putting himself in Elijah’s position, but I’ve always found it interesting that someone so young could write the lyrics, “my heart is aging, I can tell.” I think there are moments, no matter how young we are, when we feel beaten down and our hearts feel old. Even a 15-year-old can experience an old-feeling heart. But there is something about this song that just feels hopeful. It speaks a message to me that says, “Yes, you can get tired on this journey, but there will be some goodness and some respite on the way–and believe me, there’s something amazing to come.
I really like the second verse when it talks about the music: “Now that this is all ending, I want to hear some music once again/’Cause it’s the finest thing I have ever found…So on the road to salvation, I stick out my thumb and He gives me a ride/And His music is already falling on my ears.” Obviously as a musician, Rich loved music. But I think most of us do. You built us to love music in a special way for some reason. Words put to a tune are even easier to remember than words without a tune. I like how he mentions here that he can imagine something that he loves this side of the Jordan is provided for, and even more so, on the other side of the Jordan.
Father, I think I’m going to spend the next few days going through these songs and thinking about why they touch me and what I hope they say about me and about you to those who are gathered to look back on my life. If nothing else, my desire is that they will see someone with flaws–many, many flaws–but who earnestly loved you and did his best to get over himself and point others to you.
Dear God, I’ve always love this song—the reckless, raging fury. That’s not normally how we describe your love. We want your love to be gentle and warm, but that’s how we love. That’s how mortals do it. The omnipotent brings something else to the table. The perfect father has a love that I cannot fathom. And your desire is to break us down and mold us into the people we need to be.
As I think about the words to this song this morning, I have to confess that my heart is distracted by a difficult situation. I have a difficult thing to do, and it has to be done well. I woke up this morning thinking about it, and what I’m really wondering is how can I do it in love? How can I do it compassionately? What I’m facing feels like part of the ocean ebbing and flowing. It’s part of the sorrow that you use to form me. Oh, how I need you to help me.
Father, guide me. Guide me, please. And don’t let the pain of this situation be in vain. Make it count. Make it count for me and everyone else involved. Help me, please.
“Jesus” by Rich Mullins (performed by Ashley Cleveland)
Jesus
They say You walked upon the water once
When you lived as all men do
Please teach me how to walk the way You did
Because I want to walk with You
Jesus
They say you taught a lame man how to dance
When he had never stood without a crutch
Well here am I Lord holding out my withered hands
And I’m just waiting to be touched
Jesus
Write me into Your story
Whisper it to me
And let me know I’m Yours
Jesus
They say You spoke and calmed an angry wave
That was tossed across a stormy sea
Please teach me how to listen how to obey
‘Cause there’s a storm inside of me
Jesus
Write me into Your story
Whisper it to me
And let me know I’m Yours
Jesus
They drove the cold nails through Your tired hands
And rolled a stone to seal Your grave
Feels like the devil’s rolled a stone onto my heart
Can You roll that stone away?
Dear God, this is one of those great songs that it’s a crime isn’t know better. Rich Mullins wrote it shortly before his untimely death. I say untimely, but I suppose everything is in your time. But it sure felt untimely at the time.
Anyway, I love the connection between Bible stories about Jesus and an aching heart here and now. I try to imagine Rich writing it and the emotions he felt that drove the request he makes in the song.
It opens simply enough: “Please teach me how to walk the way you did because I want to walk with you.” The more I become like Jesus the more closely I can be to him. No, that’s wrong. The closer I get to him and you the more I will walk like him and be like him. My salvation is one thing. My discipleship and transformation is another that I must grow into.
Then he moves on to needing healing: “Well here I am, Lord, holding out my withered hands. And I’m just waiting to be touched.” One of the first stages of the walk is seeking your healing. Healing my soul. Chris Pratt recently said in an awards show, “You have a soul. Be careful with it.” Well, a lot of us are careless with our souls, or others damage our souls. It’s really a combination of both. But we need your healing before we can really move along in our journey with you.
The next thing is tuning into you: “Please teach me how to listen and how to obey because there’s a storm inside of me.” It’s interesting that he made a connection between the storm Jesus calmed with listening to and obeying you. I don’t think I would naturally have made that connection, but I can see it. The storms that rage inside of me—the fear, the unsettledness, and the selfishness—all combine to drown out your voice. I need your healing and your calm to bring me to a place where I can hear you.
And finally: “Feels like the devil’s rolled a stone onto my heart. Can you roll that stone away?” Father, I can’t do this myself. I need you to do it. My wounded soul. My stormy heart. My sin. My selfishness. I cannot will it to be gone, and I cannot will myself to be acceptable to you. I am acceptable to you because of Jesus’ sacrifice and because you choose by your will to accept me. Thank you for this freedom.
Emails to God 