The Rhythm

I picked up a new U2 dvd yesterday. “New” is somewhat relative, because to me it was new, but in reality it was a documentary that followed a tour of theirs some twenty years ago. Joshua Tree to be exact. And I know I talk a lot about U2, Paul Hewson, and Larry Mullen and how I wish we could be married, but I guess there’s a reason for that. It’s not empty words to show reverence for a well-known rock-n-roll band. I’m reminded of it everytime I hear the Edge’s guitar….

Somewhere between the boys trying on cowboy boots in Arizona and playing pool in a bar in Texas on the dvd, they play the “I Still Haven’t Found what I’m Looking For” video. And as I could feel the warmth of tears swell beneath my eyes, and as my stomach tightened, and my throat quivered, I was struck, as I am everytime, how much this band can pervade into some “other” part of my being. Whether it be Bono’s emotion drenched voice that sends a chill down your spine, or the Edge’s undeniable but subtle build up that seemingly works itself into your soul, they serve to show that music is an aspect of life all of its own. I am assured that music is not physical, it is not words put together, it is not a conglomeration of chords, but it is a spiritual entity all unto itself. I know I am not the first to say this, and I know I will not be the last, but I feel like it’s a present to me. Like everytime I forget that this world is bigger than what my feeble mind can comprehend, I can listen to Mr Hewson’s crooning voice reminding me that he will show me a place where “the streets have no name…” and I am immediately humbled into realizing there is a spiritual realm. There is more than the material. There is a Father who created this rhythm. This phenomenon of a rhythm.

Maybe I shouldn’t attempt to write this because this is not something words are supposed to express. If I could explain to everyone exactly what this band meant to me, or how the sound of a smooth harmonica can take me to places I’ve never known, or how when Ben Gibbard echoes “I need you so much closer” I shudder, if I could explain all that with correct vocabulary usage and proper syntax, it would all be just an oxymoron. It would defeat the purpose of my argument entirely.

But there’s more to U2. There is a struggle. I have discovered that true community is made up of individuals who share their brokenness together and meet each other in that place. If that is true, where is the union with artists who seem to have all their lives “together.” Or who are just singing shallowly about that hot girl or that sweet guy. You can feel the struggle in Bono’s voice over and over and over again down to the core of your being. They claim that “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for” is a hymn for the broken, the hurt, the questioning. I feel that. I find myself in that song and it is my hymn. Combine the breathtaking words with the effect music in general has on my disposition, and the combination is hardly believable. It sweeps me away in a wave of what I feel to be my Father, rushing over me, reminding me I am not alone, reminding me of his artwork in the world today, reminding me of the wonder He can produce. The wave knocks me over and consumes my doubts and my hurt and binds me to those who suffer as I do, all the while bringing a tinge of hope through the simple combination of a voice, a guitar, a bass, and some drums.

making up for depressing posts...

Since some of my posts seem to make me look like a completely depressing person devoid of any fun in her life, let me share some joy from the past month or so:

the wrap up.

“As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord is thinking about me right now”
psalm 40: 17

So I’ve officially finished my first year of college. It’s incredibly surreal with a touch of sadness that is equaled by a tinge of relief. So much has happened this year, and so much has changed. It is all a bit overwhelming to think about for any sort of extended period of time.

It’s interesting to think what I will most remember about this renown first year of college life. I will always remember the fun times and the great friends, but it was the struggle that will forever live vividly in my mind. It will be the brokenness that I have never felt before. It will be the humbling few months that I spent realizing my life was outside of my grip. It has all been maddening really, to stand in front of what you see is crippling you, your own flawed humanity and that of others, but your hands are by side, your palms lying pathetically open. Utterly defenseless. It was paralyzing to my emotions, my reason, my love, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I found myself here this year with my relationships, with God, with my feelings. Knowing I had done wrong, and being toppled over in a wave of regret, guilt, and feelings of self-deprecation. Struggling to the point of falling so far I would loose all I thought I knew. Yet at the same time, when I needed it most, being denied the grace and compassion of Christ by many of my “close friends.” Humbling experience? It was the definition of the word.

I’ve seen highs and lows this year that I could never have imagined. And since this seems a bit depressing, let me say at least this. I have met people over this past year who have loved me despite all this crap. Despite my highs and lows. Despite my guilt and hurt. I cannot get my head around that. That is grace. That is agape. And although this past semester was trying, I would never consider it a loss, simply because of those relationships. Never. I saw Christ this semester in the hearts of the few who stood by me. It was the most magnificent picture.