How I (still) Need...

Tuesday night, my eyes damp and my heart heavy, I read John 11. A certain verse, the shortest verse in the whole Bible, in fact, stuck out to me: “Jesus wept.” Out of context, that’s a nice enough verse. It shows Jesus’ soft side and all of that. But Tuesday night I noticed why he was weeping. He was joining in Mary and Martha’s sorrow over the death of their brother Lazarus. The amazing thing about this scene, though, is that Jesus ends up raising Lazarus from the dead. From the get-go, he knows that it’s all going to turn out okay, but yet he cries anyway, compelled by the tears of these women.

This story was particularly potent for me the other night as, just before opening that book, the tears had been falling. (Yeah, those days of me not being able to cry anymore are long gone.) Cindy Morgan just released a new album, and I was listening to the new tunes in my bedroom, windows open to the spring air, my spirit grieving yet hopeful.

I’m not quite sure why, but I’ve been a bit of an emotional wreck since Beth and I returned from Minnesota on Monday. I don't really get it. It was a really great trip. It was fun staying with Angie and meeting her new boyfriend, Mike. I got to see a great show at the Guthrie Theatre, which is the most amazing theatre I’ve ever stepped foot in. I got to see Christina, and Tauna, and met Tauna’s new boyfriend, Erik. Natalee had a fun going away party on Saturday night that involved bingo at Mystic Lake, Twister, and some Seinfeld. And on Sunday I got to spend the day with the Lindemeiers. Man, I love Angie’s family. It’s like home there. French toast, Scrabble, a hot tub, and a little bit of Lindemeier lovin' make for a great day, even if the Cleveland Cavaliers did lose the final game in the NBA playoffs.

But for all of the goodness of the little mini-vacation, it somehow left my heart sad. I don’t know why, really. Maybe it’s because Beth and I listened to part of Blue Like Jazz on the ride home, and Donald Miller always gets my head spinning, my heart aching, and my feet a bit antsy. I don’t know. Whatever the reasons, it’s been an emotional couple of days.

Cindy Morgan and I go way back. One of the very first cassette tapes I ever bought, back in about 1995, was her album Under the Waterfall. She immediately became my favorite singer, and hasn't really strayed from that position in all these 13 years since. Her album Listen is and always will be my favorite CD. By anyone. Ever. It's good, good stuff. I think the reason I connect with Cindy Morgan's music so deeply is because of her melancholy spirit. Even though she has a fair number of spirited, happy songs to her credit, the majority of her songs have dark, sorrowful undertones. Even amidst all of the hope of the Christian life, she rarely strays far from the deep, sad longing that never really quite goes away, even with Jesus.

Many of her songs are full of insecurity. She's sensitive to all the ways that the world can break girls up before we even have a chance to fight back. I've always connected with that, felt empowered by her ballads about how deeply God loves me, even if I don't fit in. That's part of why I was crying on Tuesday night. Some of the same insecurities I cried about when I was 12 while listening to that first cassette still remain now, at 25, as I listen to this new batch of songs. On the one hand, that's scary. 13 years, and the struggles remain. Will they ever go away? On the other hand, it's comforting. Jesus cried with me then, when I was a sad, broken, goofy little middle schooler, and He still cries with me now, as a sad, broken, goofy little twentysomething. He hasn't let me go yet, and He's not going to, either.

So that verse about Jesus weeping really moved me. I don't understand this faith thing. In fact, I'm going through my annual 'crisis of faith' these days. I don't plan this, but it seems to happen every summer that I re-evaluate what I believe and why. It's painful wrestling with this stuff, but I know it's refining. So even though I am far from having it all figured out, I couldn't shake this thing even if I wanted to.

The video at the start of this blog is an old Cindy Morgan song from 1993. I just found it online yesterday, and I'm so happy to be able to share it with you. It is what I always picture eternity to look like.