The timeliness and charity of a gentle jerk

Once in a while the jealousy and bitterness that are always circling my soul score me a bit of a correction.

Last night I was sitting in my car right before the Oscars, and my mind drifted into the well-trod daydream of the deep and abiding contentment that a recently married friend of mine now enjoys.

Now I’ve been here and done this plenty of times, processed what all my wise married friends always say at this point. More times than you have, knowing me. And it hasn’t all been lost on me, because progress on that front is easy for me to prove. Still though, the allure of scoring such a unique friend and partner well, is never found far from my heart.

Once in a while, though, something bores through my crusted soul with a fresh reminder of the greater goodness of our God.

Right about the time I was about to hop out of the car a tune by Dave Barnes called “Your Love Will Never Change” came on. (Here is a YouTube link to it, and here is the iTunes one.) As is my wont, of course I’ve listened it a thousand times, so you’re right to be surprised that I got anything new out of it.

If you’re one of those type people that would actually read them, here are the lyrics to it:

They tell me

There’s songs reserved for angels
Would you sing me one, a stranger
Just to prove your love?
They tell me you’ve given poor men kingdoms
And handed guilty freedom
And taken on their stains
And your love will never change
Your love will never change
They tell me that you dwell with good and evil
In alleys and cathedrals
Shadows and the light
They tell me that you hold the world together
Not from guilt, but pleasure
And you somehow know my name
And your love will never change
Your love will never change
So tell me there’s nothing that you can’t do
And you’ll love me though I’ve hurt you
And that you’ll take my blame
And your love will never change
Your love will never change

I can’t put you in the sweet place where I found myself last night. It hit me, however, in such a way that as I was riding the elevator up to my friend’s apartment I found myself whispering aloud the simple refrain of “that’s a greater love,” in hopes that I wouldn’t forget what at some point during Barnes’ song I began believing I could for once stand on with two feet.

I’ll be the first to acknowledge that I’ve grown very hard to the simple things of God in my odysseys through dead languages, deader books and the scars from angels I’ve failed to best. Last night’s forecasted forgetting is the first guarantee you’ll find in this spot tonight. It takes a lifetime of repeated exposure to finally grasp some lessons; that is the second one.

But the simple truth that somehow nestled itself deep into my soul last night, well, it was certainly welcome and right on time. It was a polite nudge toward something far more wondrous than the I’d dared to dream for a long stretch.

“His is a greater love.”

And it’s one I’m guessing I’ll revisit-again and again.

With a knowing sigh I pray, Lord, do stay gentle with this particular jerk.