Treasures in His Bottle
Sitting in Nashville International Airport, the strains of an acoustic guitarist crooning the sweet melodies of my college days mix with the urgent advice of diligent gate agents and the innumerable half-conversations around me, I am overwhelmed by the abundance of God’s mercy toward me.
The last few days have hardly been “everyday” in the usual sense of the word, but following Jesus every day has landed me in some amazing places. This time it included:
- the Bridgestone Arena, singing in a 1000-voice choir along with 12,000 others celebrating the Resurrection;
- the stage of the Grand Ole Opry, singing hymns with Joni Eareckson Tada and a choir of 300;
- wordless worship, drawn in by the strains of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons stunningly rendered by David Kim, concertmaster of the Philadelphia Orchestra;
- sitting under the baton of J.A.C. Redford, composer of the Avatar score, and many other beautiful pieces;
- being challenged by the thoughtful words of John Lennox, mathematician and apologist, to name a few.
But the mercy of God was most stunning, not in these, but in His gentle, very specific pointing-out of my sin.
The schedule had been killer, with barely any time even to eat, let alone process what was being taught. I was irritated by people chatting during a beautiful music piece, talking over instructors and conductors, walking too slowly through the crowds ahead of me, and knowing what they were doing when I had no clue what I was doing…I was critical of my husband, those who planned the event, the resort staff, the menu options…
(Can you say “grumpy?”)
Then came the recorded interview with Anne Graham Lotz.
Her words went straight to my renewed heart through the self-focused shield of my rebellious flesh: If I have a deserving or entitled attitude, I will always be filled with resentment toward God when life gets difficult.
Ouch.
As the next song began, I stood with the choir, but could not sing.
Repentance’s salty treasures dripped into Papa’s bottle: I have sinned against You and my brothers and sisters. I have insisted on my own way.
Oh, Papa-God! I relinquish my so-called rights to be able to hear what is said, to be heard the first time, to have adequate sleep and rest, to feel adequate when I sing, to know what is expected next of me.
The peace that comes with receiving forgiveness began to saturate and soothe the dry rough places, and now the treasures being collected were emerald with new life.
I could only sing snatches of Holy, Holy, Holy before dissolving once again, this time into the flood of thankful harvest-amber drops.
Know that our Father in Heaven saves all your tears, like a treasure.
Christi
P.S. Where does following Jesus in the everyday take you? I would love to know.
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