Grace Dawned on Me
Where is he who put in the midst of them his Holy Spirit, who caused his glorious arm to go at the right hand of Moses?
The sense that life is more like a rollercoaster-cart slowly coming to a halt than it is a rollercoaster-cart rising toward a new theophanous descent is a depressing one, isn’t it? And, for me, it’s not even that I look back and wonder where God’s gone; it’s that I flip through the edited scrapbook of ‘hindsight’ and wonder where I’ve gone. I tried to relay that tension between past and present faith in this old song I wrote called “Shadows of Doubt”: Where is that faith that used to dance upon the raging sea? That fought a giant with just a stone and sent him to his knees? The kind of faith that thought a mountain was a mustard seed? That prayed for rain and didn’t move until the clouds took heed? But just like Isaiah’s message, the song doesn’t end there. It resolves in the recognition of God’s ever-present grace.
The way is dark, but all along—I’m moving closer to The Dawn; and when my faith seems all but gone, I know I’m on the road, because You keep holding on.