Captivated

Last night my friend Evan and I were chatting on Skype. ‘Tell me about God,’ he said, meaning, ‘Tell me about what God is doing in your life.’

I told him, ‘He blessed me with fabulous girl time today and not one, but FOUR safe bus journeys across town and back again.

‘He's blessing me with a beautiful, honest conversation with my friend Maddie, who's also a volunteer.

‘He cleared off the skies tonight to let the full moon shine down.

‘He is teaching me.’

‘Tell me about your favorite lessons,’ Evan asked.

‘I am forgiven,’ I said.

It seems a basic lesson, indeed one of the most basic lessons we learn as Christians, and yet it is quite possibly the most difficult to internalize. I struggle with forgiving myself for some of my stupid actions or I dwell on the imperfections of my humanity, and forget that to God it doesn’t matter. It’s been forgiven already. I have been brought near through the blood of Christ and as long as I believe that, everything else will fall into place. I forget that God made me human. He didn’t make me an animal running solely on instinct, nor did He make me an angel completely perfect; He made me human, somewhere in the middle. Why should I try to be anything else? (Thanks to author Rob Bell for pointing out this fact in his book Sex God. Yes, you read the title right.)

Forgiveness is an issue I’ve found we all struggle with, especially here in an area having experienced so much pain and anguish for so long. Forgiveness of others, forgiveness of faceless institutions, forgiveness of the church, forgiveness of self. It’s a long, confusing, painful process for many, but in the midst of it, God speaks. He speaks through the people who know they have to move on, who want to see their country bettered for their children, who know there’s something bigger than themselves worth living for even if they can’t put a name to it.

There’s a song I’ve recently been caught up in called ‘Captivated’ by Shawn McDonald. (Here he is performing it live.)

Captivated

When I look into the mountains
I see Your fame
When I look into the night sky
It sparkles Your name

The wind and the clouds and the blue in the sky
The sun and the moon and the stars so high
That's what draws me to You

I am, I'm captivated by You
In all that You do
I am, I'm captivated

When I wake unto the morning
It gives me Your sight
When I look across the ocean
It echoes Your might

The sand on the shore and the waves in the sea
The air in my lungs and the way You made me
That's what draws me to You

I am, I'm captivated by You
In all that You do
I am, I'm captivated

'Cause I am, I'm captivated by You
In all that You do
I am, I'm captivated

The wind and the clouds and the blue in the sky
The sun and the moon and the stars so high
The sand on the shore and the waves in the sea
The air in my lungs and the way You made me

The blood in my veins and my heart You invade
The plants how they grow and the trees and their shade
The way that I feel and love in my soul
I thank you my God for letting me, letting me know

I am, I'm captivated by You
In all that You do
I am, I'm captivated

'Cause I am, I'm captivated by You
In all that You do
I am, I'm captivated

It so wonderfully captures my own thoughts and feelings. Everywhere I look, there is God, probably doing something incredible. (Here in Belfast, God really shows up for me on days like today: cold, but not too cold, and brilliantly sunny with not a cloud in the sky! Beautiful.) The best part about this song, though, is how it almost twists at the end. This whole time, I have been captivated by Him, but the way the words work—‘I thank you, my God, for letting me, letting me know: I am, I’m captivated by you…’—it’s almost as if there’s a role reversal. I’m not the only one captivated, here. God is captivated by me. In all that I do. In me doing all that He made me to do. Despite all the things I struggle to forgive myself for, God is still captivated by me. How can I not be captivated by that?