One Thing I Question

For no good reason that comes to mind I turned on the radio this morning on my drive to work.  I don't often do that.  If I can maintain "upward" focus on my drive (instead of spiraling into thoughts about work, my to-do list or, more often, picking up my phone to make a call), I sometimes use the 15 minutes from my house to the office to engage in prayer...but rarely, if ever, do I turn any "sound" on in the morning.  No real aversion, just not something I do - except for today.

Scanning through the available stations I came upon a song that I later discovered to be called "The One Thing."  A youtube or google search indicates that title has been used and reused for quite some time, but the iteration that caught my ear is by a guy named Paul Colman.  The refrain went like this:

"But the one thing I don't question is You.  You really love me like You say You do..."

The song was wonderfully done featuring what sounded like a trio of men.  Acoustic guitar. Beautiful harmonies.  And that chorus was featured over and over again...haunting, almost.  I suppose I choose the word "haunting" to a purpose because I found myself deeply moved by the purity of that line: "The one thing I don't question is You."

It feels pure and deep and completely untrue.

"The one thing I DON'T question is You!?"  Are you kidding me?  That is, to a fault, the one thing I horribly, fundamentally, frequently and fervently DO question!  Should I? Well of course not!  BUT DO I?  Yes.  Oh Lord I'm so sorry but yes.  Isn't that at the heart of it all?  Isn't that really the brokeness of my heart, inherited through generations going back to the original, "Did He really say? Does He really love..." question planted by the enemy?  Acted on by Adam and Eve!?

And now I'm in the car with this phrase rolling over me again and again.  I'm sinking into it. It feels familiar.  It feels like conviction and I'm lost in the darkness, in the gap between who I want to be and who I really am. I am literally going to drown in it.  But then, just a little at first, it doesn't feel quite so dark or convicting.  I mean the song is over and I've, thankfully, turned off the radio; but that phrase is in my head and on my lips and the music is driving it home, even with just me singing, a capella, and the harmony only playing out in my head as I continue to mouth the words, to sing these words...and, against my understanding, they grow larger. They grow lighter.  They even begin to resonate, cleaner.

Have you seen, "Good Will Hunting?"  I hope so.  As I played this chorus over and again in my head I was suddenly reminded of the scene from that film when Robin William's character keeps saying over and over again, "Its not your fault" while Will first dismisses then battles against then finally succumbs to the truth of that phrase.  It isn't his fault - it really, really isn't. I've seen that movie several times and, even moreso, I've seen that clip used to demonstrate the love that God has to offer. The fathering He desires to provide to us.  To me.

This felt like that.  Penetrating.  Haunting.  Like there was a truth inside of it that I couldn't really get at on my own.  Something important but impossible.
"But the one thing I don't question is You. You really love me like You say You do..."

And the remarkable thing was to find my conviction not "forgiven" but, rather, disarmed.  I had the dawning awareness that this -- THIS -- is the deepest lie that I must battle: that I live in disbelief of Him. 

It is a lie, you know.  It is an agreement I make that, even at its worst, is just a misconstrued misunderstanding that turns "but how can this be" into "it can't be true." Quick. Simple. Deep. An arrow straight into my heart.

Do you see this?  Can you catch a glimpse of it?  It seems so apparent yet horribly elusive, even writing this and trying to grab hold, to hang onto it, I can feel the idea slipping from my grip.

My heart believes.  My NEW heart doesn't question.  "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. (NIV Ezekiel 36:26) My truest self knows -- KNOWS -- He really does love me. Because He rescued me from my real disbelief. Because He gave me the new heart that can't forget and doesn't question. And, yes, sometimes I fail to live from that new heart.  In fact, I fail to live from my new heart far more often than I care to admit. But, ultimately, those failings cannot undo the heart change that He has already wrought.  My failing cannot reform what has already been transformed.

In the song, the chorus gives way to a simple plea: "So hold me. Hold me." Its breathy and deep throated and hungry and satisfied.  Because I am transformed and my new heart doesn't question and I know You love me, hold me.  Hold me.  Like Will held tight by his doctor, like a child held tight by his Mom.  Hold me...because it is true.