Driving Nails, by Demon Hunter, is an absolutely beautiful song, and because I know that maybe you are into southern gospel, I’m only sharing the string arrangement. It will not hurt your ears. Not even a little bit. The rest of the post, well, brace for the pain.
The problem with the omnipresence of God is that you can never get closer to Him when He seems distant. No matter what, He’s right there. This problem, so stated, is also the greatest thing about His omnipresence, because no matter how far away from God you think you are, you really are not far at all.
I was the light.
I was the quiet heart.
I was the place we used to dwell.
And when the cold would tear your life apart,
I was the warmth that you had felt.
He is the light of the world. He is the peace in the midst of the furies of hell. He is our refuge, and our ever present help in times of trouble. And no matter how nasty things get, no matter how the storms rage and the winds beat against us, we are safe in His arms.
It’s a simple statement of faith, yet how often have we missed the mark? I know in my head that these things are true of Christ, yet my heart strays, betraying both He and I.
What have I become?
Thoughts like shadows swelling through my mind.
What have I become?
Sometimes, times like right now, I ask myself this question: How can I claim even to be a Christian? I’m certain that at times, we all face doubt, but sometimes mine feel worse, even sacrilegious. I’m ashamed to admit that there are times that I doubt even the existence of God. And if I don’t doubt His existence, sometimes His goodness is suspect. We all know the routine argument: if an all-powerful and loving God exists, than why does the world suck so bad? And we all know the Christian answer: sin. We live in a fallen world.
Somehow, that doesn’t comfort me at all. But the problem is greater than sin in the world. The greater problem is sin inside of me.
Something else inside
Is driving nails into my soul,
Angels from my door.
Driving nails into my soul
My own sin, my own brokenness, selfishness, and shame grows like a cancerous tumor in my heart, and sometimes (maybe right now), it gets so large that even my vision is obstructed. As they say, I can’t see the nose on my face, nor can I see the God who surrounds me at all times.
Yet His grace outweighs my sinfulness. His light still may shine through my darkness. No matter how bad I get, no matter how despondent I feel, no matter how consumed I get by the depression, He is calling to me, patiently waiting for me to respond, and reminding me not of who I have become, but instead of who He was before and still is today.
I was the blood inside your broken heart.
I was the stone that you had held.
There is no accusation, however merited. There is only the still, small voice, calling out, whispering my name into the darkness, hoping against hell that maybe I’ll hear Him. I’m listening. Straining even. And while I honestly feel like part of me is dying, is already dead, I’m holding out for something. God hasn’t done all that He has in my life for me to fail. So I wait, unable to do much else.
I close my eyes,
Search for you,
Retracing every step.
God, you know where to find me. And really, I think I know where to find you, too. Here we are, Lord. Let’s do something about it.