I love
having background music on throughout the day…it motivates me and takes my
heart up and out of the mundane and makes me feel more alive (well, as alive as
one can feel while washing dishes or folding laundry). My favorite kinds of music stretch across
many genres, but I think I am mostly drawn to music that has significant (and
sometimes obscure) lyrics. But, for as
much as I love music with deep lyrics, I have realized that I often don’t really pay attention to the lyrics until
I am jogging with headphones or alone in my car on a long drive (which happen,
respectively, sporadically and um, hardly ever). Recently, I was jogging (yay!) and listening
to Switchfoot and I came across the song “Red Eyes,” which I had heard many
times before but never paid attention to very carefully.
What are you waiting for
The day is gone?
I said I'm waiting for dawn
What are you aiming for
Out here alone?
I said I'm aiming for home
Holding on, holding on
With red eyes
What are you looking for?
With red eyes
Red eyes
All of my days are spent
Within this skin
Within this cage that I'm in
Nowhere feels safe to me
Nowhere feels home
Even in crowds I'm alone
Holding on, I'm holding on
With red eyes, What are you looking for?
With red eyes, Red eyes
With red eyes, What are you looking for?
With red eyes, Red eyes
Every now and then I see you dreaming
Every now and then I see you cry
Every now and then I see you reaching
Reaching for the other side
(What are you waiting for?)
(What are you waiting for?)
What are you waiting for?
With red eyes, What are you looking for?
With red eyes, Red eyes
Your red eyes, What are you looking for?
With red eyes, Red eyes
(What are you waiting for?
What are you waiting for?
In this needle and haystack life
I found miracles there in your eyes
It's no accident we're here tonight
What are you waiting for? Waiting for?
We are once in a lifetime
Waiting for
We are once in a lifetime
Waiting for
Alive
We are once in a lifetime
Waiting)
The day is gone?
I said I'm waiting for dawn
What are you aiming for
Out here alone?
I said I'm aiming for home
Holding on, holding on
With red eyes
What are you looking for?
With red eyes
Red eyes
All of my days are spent
Within this skin
Within this cage that I'm in
Nowhere feels safe to me
Nowhere feels home
Even in crowds I'm alone
Holding on, I'm holding on
With red eyes, What are you looking for?
With red eyes, Red eyes
With red eyes, What are you looking for?
With red eyes, Red eyes
Every now and then I see you dreaming
Every now and then I see you cry
Every now and then I see you reaching
Reaching for the other side
(What are you waiting for?)
(What are you waiting for?)
What are you waiting for?
With red eyes, What are you looking for?
With red eyes, Red eyes
Your red eyes, What are you looking for?
With red eyes, Red eyes
(What are you waiting for?
What are you waiting for?
In this needle and haystack life
I found miracles there in your eyes
It's no accident we're here tonight
What are you waiting for? Waiting for?
We are once in a lifetime
Waiting for
We are once in a lifetime
Waiting for
Alive
We are once in a lifetime
Waiting)
(So now I
need to warn you…this post is going to get really honest, so only keep reading
if you’re into that kind of thing)
I
immediately thought, actually, of Jeremy when the song was over. Jeremy, my husband, who has shed more tears
in the last year than in the rest of the decade and a half that I have known
him.
And then I
thought about my friends and family members who have achingly empty arms right
now as they struggle with miscarriage and infertility; my friends who are
longing to see healing in themselves or their marriages or their children; my
sister who was waiting and waiting for a resolution; my still-single friends;
my friend awaiting word from the doctor about whether her cancer is back…the
list went on and on.
This is the
nature of many seasons in our lives…the yearning and looking and waiting for
something to change that is causing us sorrow.
As a person who believes in an eternal God who will one day make
everything right in the world, I live with the tension that is represented in
this song (as does the composer, Jon Foreman).
I want relief for myself, and I desperately want relief for others who
suffer—many who suffer much more deeply than I.
Our pastor, in explaining the idea that we can’t compare our suffering
to others’, described suffering as the distance between our “actual state and
our desired state.” That about sums it up for me in this season.
A picture taken while pursuing a job opportunity last year...bittersweet |
For Jeremy
and I, the past year and a half (almost 2) has felt like a tightrope walk
between hopefulness and despair. It hasn’t
been gut-wrenching or tragic, but it has been long and tiresome. We left a life we loved in Flagstaff to
pursue what we believe was God’s calling for the next step of our life. Knowing full well that “a man plans his
course but God determines his steps,” we set out with a plan for Jeremy to get
a Master’s of Theology (a research degree) as a stepping stone to applying for
a PhD program sometime down the line.
Part of this plan included living with my parents while we figured out
where exactly we would need to be and for how long…all of these unknowns
related to where Jeremy got a job and therefore how long his degree would take.
View from the peaks in Flagstaff |
A life of
faith is all about some strange balance between what we do and what God does…or
maybe through this process I’ve begun to realize that it’s more what God does
through us, that we in our physical bodies on this physical planet constrained
by time are the means through which he chooses to work. Meaning, he gives us his wisdom through the
Bible and through others and he gives us his spirit and then he tells us to
focus solely on him because we cannot see the future. And then it seems sometimes that he sends us out in the dark with only his promises to rely on. So, when our plans have continued to be
frustrated again and again, as we have applied here, pursued this, cried over
what seemed like perfect opportunities only to be crushed later, felt lonely and misunderstood, asked and
asked and only heard "no", we have no one to “blame” except God, who
has promised to know every need that we have and every hair on our heads.
Oh, how we wanted to stay with our international student housemates when it was time to leave this summer...makes me cry just thinking about it! |
Ironically, Jeremy’s main studies have been
related to the idea that we are not so in control of our lives as we think we
are…and this is a hard lesson for us in our post-modern, Western, affluent society
to accept (Jeremy and I included!). God
seems to be at work, first in our hearts and then hopefully with encouragement
we can share with others in due time. Somehow
in the midst of all the red eyes, there has been this deep peace that rises up
knowing that he is doing something in the dark that we can’t see.
(Sunflare pic didn't quite turn out as I expected...like many other things this year) |
Neighborhood kids: a sweet gift to us |
As I read in
the Bible about what Jesus really says
about what it means to follow him, I am comforted again and again by his call
to “seek first his kingdom, and all these things (money, clothes, food) will be
added unto you” or that “he who seeks to save his life must lose it.”
Jeremy baptizing two of his former high school students in Flagstaff this summer. |
We still have many unanswered questions and
continue to struggle to figure out what all of this means, but he hasn’t
changed and he told us to keep our eyes on him.
I feel like Peter on a stormy night in the Sea of Galilea, who in his
fear, asks for conformation that it is indeed Jesus telling him to come. The waves were big and the wind was great and
I’m sure Peter’s eyes were red, but all that mattered was keeping sight of
Jesus who had called him.
Carlsbad...where we could have lived if we hadn't gotten out of the boat to follow him to Kazakhstan |
So, for the time being, Jeremy is finishing his ThM (with excellence, it seems) and is looking into PhD programs. We also continue to deal with life and responsibilities and pursuing means of income. God has blessed me with a tutoring job for twin girls who recently lost their mother (it is truly a blessing to be their tutor—I love it!) and I am babysitting and teaching piano.
And we wait
for the rest that is to come.
Thank you for sharing your heart, Kaci. (God has me in a similar place, so I could relate to much of what you said.) I feel so blessed to have met you last year! And I believe that this confusing season of stretching, growing, trusting will have fruit beyond your wildest dreams. In the meantime, it's evident that you are showing God's love to the people in your life right now. What a gift you are to them!
ReplyDeleteKaci- A lot of what you wrote reminded me so much of the Cost of Discipleship which I read this summer. I know you have read it in the past and I'm sure certain parts of the difficulties of being a disciple are ringing true right now. One of the cool things which I thought of a lot while seeing your family pictures throughout the post is that your children are growing up in an environment of daily trust and surrender to the Lord. What a rich blessing for them to see their parents humbly on their knees submitting their hopes and dreams (even with red eyes) to their King. God WILL use this valley for His glory. The song that speaks to me most in "desert" seasons is this one by Ginny Owens: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtNzOpKvPfw
ReplyDeleteYour and Jeremy's trust in God is being tested. It is my understanding that God uses testing before he makes his assignments.
ReplyDeletePaJ
You are both amazing people! We admire and love you. Beautiful post as always. God often gets even more glory after the droughts and storms, right? We know then that it was his faithfulness that upholds us each step. Miss you.
ReplyDeleteYa know me..:):):):)
ReplyDeleteAmidst deep study of the Word it is beneficial to step back clear your mind and read the words simply then apply them. May God bless you all as you continue to seek His will.
ReplyDelete