Every Grain of Sand

Morning One and all,

I saw a picture the other day of my oldest daughter riding on the shoulders of her husband and it caused me to open doors that for the most part I have nailed shut. Actually, it was my Grandson that was riding on his father’s shoulders but the resemblance of son to mother caused me to have flashbacks. Flashback of me 45 pounds lighter and completely clueless about life.

It was when my daughter was about that age with a cute little blond mullet that I nearly went to jail one Sunday morning for taking my family hostage at gun point in the church I was pastoring. I know it sounds unbelievable but it’s true. Needless to say I was a bit dazed and confused when the police came bursting into my office with their service revolvers pointed at my head.

Actually, some nosey neighbor who lived almost 2 football fields away from the parsonage saw me walking my young family to church, mistook a guitar for a shotgun at that distance and called the police. There was plenty to talk about at church that day, I’m sure. I barely remember anything from those days these days. But I need to.

I need to remember what it was like when I was 23. I need to remember the old me so that I can have hope for the future. I know I say this a lot or if I don’t it feels like I do, but I need to remember if that brat named Brad can become this Brad then there is hope for us all. God can save anybody. God can change anybody into anything he wants if what I was can become what I am.

I meet the old me in other people from time to time here and there and most of the time I want to strangle me. I see the old me in the Occupy Wall Street crowd screaming injustice at the corporate greed through the tools created by the very same corporations they protest against. I hear the old me and the passion and love I had (have) for Christ in the Emergent church. I see the old me in the tattoos that continue to multiply like rabbits on the flesh of the young and I feel that old desperation that I had to fit in and make a statement against the past at the same time. I see the old me in the cluelessness of the young to understand the necessity of hard work to provide for your family. Herman Cain is right when he talks about the jealousy and envy. I am all too acquainted with those passions.

How did I get from there to here? Why did it take so long? How much further (or is it farther?) do I have to go? I’m reminded of the Bob Dylan song: Every grain of Sand.

Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear
Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer
The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay

I gaze into the doorway of temptation’s angry flame
And every time I pass that way I always hear my name
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand

I look back on the mess that has been my life and I realize that there is no one to blame but me. I am where I am today because of choices I made when I was 5, and 10, and 20, and 30 and yesterday. Yes, God in his graciousness has from day to day taken me where I needed to be to make me what I need to be for his glory but that doesn’t take away the meaningfulness and the ill effects of my choices throughout time. God uses me to break me down. He gives me what I want and then lets me experience the consequences of that which I desire most. Then he loves me enough to let me learn from those bad choices.

I need to remember all those bad choices that seemed like good ideas at the time because in the words of Nick Lowe: Even in my darkest hour there was still a light somewhere letting me know by its glow that I’d find comfort there. I walked a lonely street waiting for love to come and if even I can find someone there’s hope for us all.

If I can change there is much hope for the future. If I am not too screwed up for God to fix then there is much hope – grace is more powerful than you can even begin to imagine. If you are in Christ then every time you put your hand on the burner of the stove grace will use the blisters to bring change. I can show you the scars. Nowadays, as Sara Groves sings: “they look less scars and more like character.” I’m grateful for that.

Grace and Peace,

Brad

PS If you want to laugh at a complete idiot check out Brian Whitehead's new music video "She don't know Jack" on the latest episode of The Final Word http://www.youtube.com/bradleyscotstephens