Recently, I had the joy of having dinner with a friend that I haven’t seen in years. And the glorious thing about this friend is that we have the kind of relationship that despite the years and distance, we can see each other and fall into step as if no time had passed at all. The good thing about friends like this, is that the friendship is also so deep that when you meet, the time spent can range from giggling about ridiculous things to crying about hard things as you share and reflect on what’s shaped each other in the time spent apart. We fell into a time warp, nearly closed down the restaurant and sat in a parking lot for an hour chatting about life. Somewhere between talking about life and pop-tarts made from scratch, we had a serious conversation about how we can catch ourselves taking out our frustration or anger on the ones we feel safest with and vice verse. I later wrote my friend to tell her that our conversation reminded me of a song, Mission Bells by The Apache Relay.
A couple of years ago, I had this massive flood at my house which was very destructive and created a situation where I had to deal with insurance madness and not so honest contractors. And it was just the latest in a series of traumatic events and to round it out, I was finishing up grad school and that transition was a little rough too. I was in a really low place and feeling frustrated with God in the midst of what felt like chaos. . .and pain. I was feeling really alone in it and distant from God.
I used to say that it was this season that felt like I was getting hit by wave after wave -and I felt like I had to just dive to the bottom of the ocean and hold my breath, hold on to a rock (it’s what big wave surfers do, purely based on my knowledge of watching several surfer movies) and wait for the waves to break for me to safely go up for air. Anyways, that gives you a sense of my emotional state.
I was also in the middle of doing a Mending the Soul training that was bringing up past hurts and forcing a lot of confrontation of my emotions. And one night, I drew this for one of the exercises: Life was unleashing this huge wave that had me spinning out. Inside, it felt like a lot of bottled emotions were about to burst.
I left the training and was driving home with the windows rolled down, my brain racing to figure out all these emotions.
In this season of crashing waves, battling undercurrents, and fear of drowning, I felt like I couldn’t catch a break in the waves. I was holding my breath at the bottom of the ocean or getting thrashed by wave after wave. And so I’m in my car and my emotions, specifically anger with life, just began to swell like a wave about to crash . . . and then Mission Bells came on:
And I will hold you, if you want me to
And I will love you.
There’s nothing you can say,
there’s nothing you can do.
So take it out on me, take it out on me
and know it won’t change a thing
So take it out on me…cast your sins into the sea
Say what you need if it sets you free. . .
The bullseye is on my head . . .
So take it out on me, take it out on me
No it won’t change a thing.
I cast your sins into the sea, take it out.
God could have easily responded the way he did to Job – humbling discipline that tears down my pride and reminds me who God is – and I would have deserved it, but instead He used this song to invite me to engage with Him, even if it was sharing my anger and frustration. And I was filled with this overwhelming feeling that the Holy Spirit was using these lyrics to pour out grace and to show just how deep God’s devotion to me as His child goes. Christ has already taken every sin on himself. The weight of our sin, my sin, has already been taken out on Him. But here in this moment of my somewhat trivial, emotional roller coaster, He sent me this song, this plea to trust Him with my frustration and anger. To not grow even more distant in my frustration. To turn to Him.
Because He is safe. Because it won’t change a thing.
seven hooks and a line 