Saturday, March 20, 2010

My Cave

Home alone last night I set myself up in front of the tele, put my feet up, warm mug of tea in one hand, remote in the other and chocolate within reach. After another week at school I deserved this comfort, I told myself.
Mmmm, Sport Relief on BBC One, this should keep me entertained for a bit.
It wasn't long before the tears started to fall.

All my life I've watched this stuff, BBC celebrities watching on as children die of a preventable disease, while others laugh and play and kick a football at a funded project. You'd think you'd grow hardened to it, used to it.
I've been moved by the images before.
But never moved to tears.
I was shocked by my reaction.

The morning after I arose to the sounds of 'The Cave' by Mumford and Sons and the lyrics rose up and slapped me round the cheeks.

'So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears.

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be.'

I realise now that it was healthy to cry last night.
Because I'm realising that heaven looks like children playing and laughing and kicking a football, stomachs full of scrumptious food with not a disease in sight.
This sight, the end of poverty, justice rolling like a river, it's the aching, breaking desire of God.
This sight, it's what God sweat blood and tears for.

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