Rhythms of Grace

I know I write a lot about perspective.  I continually need it though.  I think we all do.  I got another taste of it today.

On my way to a training session for work today, about a 45 minute drive from home, it was extremely foggy.  As I approached the new stop light at the bypass highway I thought to myself  “someone will run this light today” because I literally couldn’t see it until I was right in front of it.  I passed on through without any problems and continued on.

A while later as I drove further up the highway a bird decided to fly right into my path.  In all my years of driving this is the first time that has happened.  It startled me, and it was gross, but it didn’t bust or even crack my windshield, so I assumed it was just an unfortunate turn of events for the bird.  When I got to work, however, I took a look at my hood and realized there were scratches all over it.  Bad scratches.  The hood will need to be repainted scratches.  I was really upset about this because I just had the hood & most of the front of my car replaced a few months ago after ice fell on it from a roof.

After lunch a co-worker told me to come in his office so he could show me something.  He had printed a story from the local newspaper.  There was a picture of a car – almost identical to mine – that was completely demolished.  It had been hit on that highway bypass by a semi that ran the light – just minutes after I safely passed through the intersection.  Remarkably, the driver’s injuries were minor, but that fact is nothing short of miraculous given the condition of her car.  Apparently my co-workers back home heard about the accident and assumed that I had been the driver.  I so could have been.  But instead I spent the morning whining about some scratches on my hood.  They don’t seem so bad now.

I was reminded again today about the power of art.

Once upon a time I had this job.  Every day I went to work and I searched for ways to soften people’s hearts.   I would wade my way through scores of CD’s and movies and videos and books.  I would immerse myself in Scripture and pray for God to show me just the right medium for each and every moment I was helping to create.  And He did.  In the process of looking for ways to soften the hearts of others, mine became soft too.  I saw beauty in things I’d overlooked before and I gave people the benefit of the doubt more.  My first impulse was to love rather than doubt and although at times it bit me, my wounds healed pretty quickly.

For the past year or so I’ve had a different job.  It’s a good job and I like it, but instead of purposefully surrounding myself with art, I’m surrounded instead with numbers.  It’s been a subtle change I guess and I don’t think I fully realized it until today.

I was sitting in church and after a particularly touching prayer, the band began playing a song I’m familiar with – one with personal significance to me.  I’ve heard the song a hundred times, but this time three little dancers came on the stage and interpreted the lyrics with their movement as the lights dimmed and a light haze surrounded them.  I felt the tears come bubbling up and that’s when it hit me – my heart has become hardened.  And this moment that someone else prayed for and planned for was softening it.

Art is a funny thing.  It’s sort of like oxygen.  You don’t really think about it until it’s not there anymore.  But without it I think we all become hardened and cold.  I believe that Art is God’s love language to us, and when we ignore it we cease to hear Him quite as clearly as He’d like.

So this week I will become intentional once again about listening to God through His creation.  I will make time to soak in a song.  I will read a good novel and I will create something myself too.

Thank you to all the people who create the things that move my heart in ways that I am incapable of expressing myself.  Thank you to my GOD who knows how much I need them.