Longing for Home

Within the past three months, at least three people/families I care about have lost grandparents. I just found out about the third; and one was my family. In fact, I lost my third grandparent this year--sixth if you count great-grandparents that have died within my lifetime. And death is still a weird concept for me. Having someone here breathing one day and gone the next...is never going to feel normal.

There is a crazy amount of peace in the knowledge that all three of the grandparents I know of who have passed away in the past few months--loved Jesus, and are now united with Him, fully seeing the One who has forever fully known them. They are rejoicing in His presence, no longer in pain, no longer weary, no longer hindered by broken bodies. And as one of my friends who recently lost her grandpa related to me, "I'm jealous." More than a little. Because my grandpas and grandma, and her grandpa, and my other friend's granddaddy--they are all in the place my soul longs to be.

But the fact that I am still here on this earth, breathing, means I'm here for a purpose. I'm here for the same purpose these departed loved ones were: to follow Jesus and be His hands and feet on this earth, to somehow be one small part of seeing His Kingdom come more fully to this Earth as it is in Heaven. To love and go after the people within my reach who don't know the One my soul loves, the One who has placed me here to brokenly point them to Him. May they see Him in me as through a mirror darkly, past all my smudges and cracks and failings--so that one day they too may see Him face-to-face in His full glory.

There's a song by Phil Wickham that I had forgotten about until a friend recently posted some of its lyrics online. It's called "Heaven Song," and you should look it up if you've got a sec. The song is about a yearning to be Home. A couple years ago, there were times when I'd retreat to the farthest parking lot at the very edge of my college campus, turn this song up loud, and sing at the top of my lungs. And there at the end of the chorus, where it says, "my soul is getting restless for the place where I belong. I can't wait to join the angels and sing my heaven song," there was a cry and a yearning in my heart, to be able to sing just one note of that song here on the earth.

That's what we're here for. We don't have to wait until we depart from this world to be a foretaste of it. We don't have to do this life alone; Jesus is Emmanuel--He is God with us--and we are present with Him now even if it's not as fully as it shall be one day.

All three of these grandparents we've lost recently have left a legacy and a tremendous impact on the lives of their kids and grandkids. The grief of them no longer being here with us on this earth will never be able to drown that out. Loss hurts because there was something there to begin with. So let's follow in their footsteps--not out of a desire to be remembered, but a desire to live all-out the life we've been entrusted with, to follow God wherever He leads us, to look forward to the day He brings us fully Home.

There's a battle going on. It's not one that can be won with human hands, but one in which the King of Kings has chosen to use our hands anyway. It's amazing, still so overwhelmingly to me, the way He chooses to accomplish His will in this earth. It's not often an easy road, but let us remember the pain is indeed temporary, and it's leading us to something that will last forever. The time for prophecy and teaching and knowledge will pass away, "For we know in part, and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away...For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then shall I know fully, even as I have been fully known. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three: but the greatest of these is love" (1 Corinthians 13:9-10, 12-13).

"The aim of our charge is love that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith" (1 Timothy 1:5). So let's love in earnest. Let's fight this fight knowing how the war ends, and who sits on throne even now. Let's live with abandon and recklessness, not acting like this life is all that matters. The world needs to see that glimpse of Jesus; they need to hear that broken, fragmented note of the song that is forever issuing forth around His throne.

In the words of Switchfoot, "If we've only got one shot, if we've only got one life, if time was never on our side, then before I die I want to burn out bright." A candle lit on both ends may burn up quicker, but it also burns more brightly. No matter how much longer each of us has on this earth, let's not lose sight of Home. Let's run this race with endurance, sprinting harder everytime we remember what lies at the end. We are here temporarily, passing through on our way to the place we belong. Let's take some other folks with us! Let's join hands and take a stand against the darkness, even if it means we burn out.

 We're a reflection of the Light; we are not the source. His light will never stop shining. Thanks be to God that it does not rely on us! Yet still He chooses to use us, to make us living reflections of His Light, of His glory. So let us sing in the night. Let our hearts cry out for Home, because Home is truly where the heart is; it's where the One our souls desire to be with, resides. Let's savor the journey He has us on, soaking up every minute of it. For He's not far. He's but a breath away. And as the old adage goes, you never know which breath will be your last.

"For we, we are not long here. Our time is but a breath. And so we'd better breathe it. And I, I was made to live. I was made to love. I was made to know You." -Brooke Fraser

An Open Letter to Switchfoot

{First off, let me state simply that although the term "open letter" bears the connotation (due to  a long history) of being political-type tools for sparking debates--that is not what I intend this to be. In fact, that's far from my intent with this open letter. Rather, this is partially me striving to walk out what I talk about, and partially me attempting to counteract a cycle of criticism and attack when it comes to us Christians and what we believe vs. what we think our brothers or sisters believe. I'm not saying that rebuke and correction are wrong--they are most certainly a necessary part of doing life together and pressing one another closer to Christ--but there is also a time and a place for encouragement and exhortation. More often than you might think, correction and encouragement even go hand-in-hand. As for me, this letter is meant more as a public thank-you than a critique.}

Dear Switchfoot (a.k.a. Jon, Tim, Jerome, Chad, and Drew),

Guys, I just want to say thank you for sticking it out and continuing on a road that I know hasn't always (or ever?) been easy for all these years. Thank you for your unashamed honesty and vulnerable transparency through your music, interviews, concerts, etc. I haven't seen Fading West yet, but a couple days ago I was blessed to be able to see you in concert for the first time, here in Memphis. It was an awesome time, and more encouraging than I feel able to put into words. I've been listening to your music for the past ten or so years, and God's really used it at so many points in my life--sometimes to encourage, sometimes to convict, almost always to sharpen my focus on things. There is perhaps no more vulnerable position to be in than to pour out your heart to people who don't know you, to put your art out there where anyone can see/hear it, where more than a few can (and have) come away with a wrong impression of what you're striving to communicate. Thank you for being persistent in putting yourselves outside your comfort zones and daring to continue to be honest in your lives and your music.

I've listened to a lot of bands/artists over the years, but I have to say Switchfoot holds a unique role in my journey. The first song of y'all's I ever heard was "Dare You to Move," and when you played that one at the concert it took me back to so many moments it's been instrumental in--from the comforting and peaceful effect it had as the only familiar song coming over the radio to a nervous twelve-year-old in a doctor's office, to various moments waking up to it during high school and reminding me that "Today never happened before." I can't tell you how many times any one of your songs has pushed me to think through things more intentionally.

And I have to tell you that it hasn't always resulted in a better stance on my part. I must admit that for a season (specifically after I first bought and listened to Nothing Is Sound) I was really disheartened by your music, because it felt like you were emphasizing so much the darkness and the disconnect, the things so wrong with this world we live in--that you didn't have enough emphasis on the hope that exists on the flip-side of all that. I felt letdown, in a way (no pun intended), because it seemed to me that y'all had gotten overly cynical. At that point in my life, letdowns like that felt irreversible; I was under the impression that once someone I respected started to show signs of faltering, it was only the beginning of an inevitable, downward spiral.

But you see, that is exactly why you guys ended up with this unique and special role. I can't remember specifically which song or album I was listening to, but the moment still stands out in my memory, alone in my backyard with a portable CD player and a pair of headphones, gazing up into a starry sky and expressing to God my feelings disappointment. And He responded. He answered my despair with a gentle, loving rebuke: "So pray for them." It was no audible voice, and not even something that can necessarily completely fit into words, but He impressed on my heart that night a glimpse into the reality He has since been leading and training me in, that my position is not that of a helpless bystander, and that my job is not merely to applaud or disapprove of anyone else's actions (or music). That night was when God first started teaching me not to give up on people.

So I kept listening to Switchfoot. And I kept praying. And this has been one of the most significant instances in my life that I can point to and testify that prayer doesn't just change who or what you're praying for; it changes you. And more often than not, it's been my heart that needs to change, moreso than the circumstances I'm praying about. That's been the story of this journey with my encounter(s) with your music. I admit, I've been arrogant at times, judged myself capable of knowing where y'all's hearts were at through hearsay and a handful of song fragments; thinking I could guess your motives when I heard about your "going mainstream" and facing much of the same fierce debate and criticism Lecrae is presently wading through. But over and over again, God kept pressing me back to my knees about it. I didn't know exactly what I was praying for, what it would look like if and when those prayers were answered; I just knew that I wasn't allowed to throw my hands up and walk away. I knew that even when I didn't agree with every line of every song (and to be honest, there are still some I disagree with), it was not left to me to frown, condemn, and turn away.

Why? Because y'all are my brothers. 

I may not know you, may never have a conversation with any of you, but I am bound to you with blood that runs thicker than any merely-human blood ever could. Even if we don't see completely eye-to-eye on everything, even if we have completely different lifestyles and schedules and routines, we're all following the same King. We're all learning to walk out His love more truly day by day, seeing more and more clearly that, indeed, "Love alone is worth the fight." We're all learning to see ourselves and others more like He sees us and less like the world does. We're all in this thing together.

So thank you. Thank you for being honest in a world that pushes for fake images...for daring to walk a path of risk and adventure and discomfort...for pouring your hearts and lives out night after night to share your songs with strangers and friends alike...for demonstrating love in the face of animosity...for being humble in your honesty and down-to-earth in your presentation...for directing the loudest applause toward someone else...for speaking (and singing) the truth in love. After all these years, I have to say you guys have proven yourselves and your message by how you have walked it all out. Keep changing the world, one step, one song, one smile at a time. And know that I'm still in your corner, and still praying for you. Keep living it out!

For His glory,
-Kala