Polychromatic Combustion

It is at my delight to say my trip to Nashville indeed stirred my affections for my Creator in so many ways I cannot count. Swelsh, Luna, and I left for the city from Dallas at precisely 8:12 pm on Wednesday July 2nd, sunroof open, windows down, and country music playing. Actually... the one country song we listened to as we left Dallas (besides "Sweet Home Alabama") was "Cold Day in July" by the Dixie Chicks, which is actually quite a depressing song, and the only thing that applied to us was that our bags WERE packed... just... not due to a massive break-up, rather an incredible adventure.

We drove through Arkansas, which was a rather extensive drive and over the Mississippi River on the bridge that smells like French Fries. Odd. The sky began to lightly illuminate about an hour and a half outside Nashville, and at 6:45 we entered Music City and collapsed on anything that looked welcoming at Jessie's apartment. We slept somewhere between three to five hours before we decided to hit the street.

On 3rd and Broadway, Billy Joe's Tattoo Parlor waited for us - or Swelsh, mainly - where she sat for about two and a half hours getting a glamorous and exquisite image on her shoulder representing the Saving Grace of God. It was beautiful...

It was definitely fun to see and hang out with the Boys again - Little Brandon was sweet and gave me a really big hug. Hugs are great.

My favorite part of the whole trip, however, was our little adventure on the Pedestrian Bridge the runs over the Cumberland River on the night of the 4th. Half of the bridge was blocked by police because one side was the fall out section for the fireworks. The crowd had been told that the gate would lock at 8:45. By 8:30, however, the gates were closed and locks went on, as hundreds of pedestrians made their way towards the gate thinking it would be open. When they weren't let across to get to their vehicles (cause a lot of folks weren't actually going to stay for the fireworks show), a rush of anger ran across the thousands that we happened to be standing in the midst of. For us, of course, it was quite entertaining, to see and here the frustration and off-the-wall angry comments from the mob.

In the core of the thousands, as folks rubbed shoulders and tried to keep their belongings to themselves, in the shouts and the grumblings, my mind flashed to a time I've not lived or seen. In the time the crowds of thousands tripped over each other and smothered the earth with their feet to follow Jesus Christ. It was so vivid to me, and I even thought of the crowds in the book of Acts that the disciples would preach to. Or the crowds that stoned some of the Martyrs of the faith.

The Fireworks began to go off around 9:15pm; the sky filled with every imaginable color in dozens of shapes and sizes exploding above our heads. In those moments of polychromatic combustion, my soul leapt to the ceiling of excitement - I looked at the lights and I felt the pounding of the explosions and I heard the screaming of the missiles and I only wish I could be more excited about this awe-striking moment. It's as if I knew I could fly, I just didn't know how. And that kept my feet on the ground.

It was delightful to get caught in the rain in traffic and see old friends and new friends. Nashville was sweet. It was good. As it always has been. Unfortunately, we didn't get the chance to see the wonderful Lee Family. (They're not Asian.)

Each time I return from Nashville, I feel refreshed and excited about my Jesus. I'm inspired by the city and it's people to live life rather than struggle for survival - as Nevertheless would say it "live like we're alive."

Since I've been back from Music City, Father has been showering me with reminders of His Glory. He's been whispering the Gospel in my ear as I fall asleep, and giving me eyes to see each day's newness and mercies. The bicycle rides have been my time of prayer where I thank Him and ask Him to help me breathe in a way that honors Him, speak in a way that makes Him known, see in a way that shows His love, and love in a way so filled with Grace. I'm falling deeper in love with Christ and I find myself begging Him to keep my heart close to His. I'm grateful for my roommates who love me and I love in return - for their sweet, gentle spirits and forgiving way of life. My prayer is that we continue to live in a way that takes our eyes of ourselves and fixes our sight on Jesus. It's the hardest thing in the world... that dying to self thing.

But it gives me more of Jesus.