I Know Who Goes Before Me

The other day, I told a Christian musician, Mandisa... to shut up.  (And I feel really bad about that, by the way.  I'm sure Mandisa is a really sweet lady.)  Well, I didn't tell her to shut up.  Just the words to one of her songs coming through my van speakers.  She was singing something (Actually, what I'd really like to say is 'She was singing some crap about...', but I know it's not crap.  AND, I'd feel really bad about writing that if Mandisa ever actually read this.  Which is about as likely as Chris Tomlin ever reading that letter I wrote him.)...

Where was I?

Oh, right.  She was singing something about holding on just a little bit longer because He (God) knows this (a trial) is gonna make you stronger, and the pain ain't gonna last forever, and things can only get better.

Mandisa must be a silver-lining kind of person.  Which is fine.  Even good.  The world needs silver-lining people.  God made silver-lining people.

Ok.  I know the whole 'this is gonna make you stronger' thing isn't crap.  But it doesn't help me AT ALL.  I don't care about being stronger.  Is that really why all of this happened?  To make me stronger?

THAT just makes me want to throw something.

So a few days ago, I was being really rude to Mandisa (and I'm really sorry about that, Mandisa), and today I'm listening to my good friend, Chris Tomlin, with a slightly softer heart.  Even thinking about new songs the band could learn.

Sometimes, I really think I might be going insane.

One of Tomlin's new songs is getting a lot of air time on the radio - 'Whom Shall I Fear?'  To be honest, the first time or two I heard it, I wasn't all that excited about it.  (Don't tell Chris I said that.)  But... it grew on me.  A lot.  One phrase that I've been pondering:  I know Who goes before me.

He goes before me.

I'm probably not going to articulate this well because it's been so long since I've tried to actually think about things like this.

In fact, I sorta want to just quit before I even try to write.  It's taking an awful lot of energy to even form the next sentence.

He goes before me.

Well, rather than try to put into words everything that comes to mind when I think about what that phrase means, I'll simplify.  It boils down to this:  He goes before me - moment by moment. Today.  And He holds the future.  He knows where I'm headed, and He's got me.  I'm safe.  My salvation is secure.  I can't ruin it with my lack of faith (or even with my 'shut up, Mandisa' or throwing-shoes-at-people moments).

And... (big sigh)... a year ago, He had already gone before me.  A year ago, before Elliana was even conceived, He held my future.  He held her future.  And it's more than that.  He walked this road before I did.  He knows losing a child.  He knows seeing the lifeless body of a child - His child - His own Son.  

He walked this road before I did.  And He's walking it with me now, even if I'm ignoring Him the whole time.  And even though I know that's not ok - I shouldn't be ignoring Him - it is ok.  He's not going anywhere.  He's gone before me, and He's got me.