Per usual, music is serving the purpose of its namesake: being a muse.
Off and on (more on, frankly), I've been mostly totally addicted to listening to this rapper named NF. He's like if Eminem loved Jesus. Every word out of his mouth is real and authentic, flying out at rapid speed.
His song "Intro" is unreal. It gives me chills every time I listen to it (which is, like, a lot). There's one line that's utterly strikes me without fail. He says/yells, "They say you're a king, but who put you in charge?"
And man I empathize with that so much. Like every other human, I crave that sense of control, of knowing that my life is in my hands and that I can make all my own decisions and do it well. That I don't need other people to thrive. They're nice, but I can function quite well independently. And if I don't need people who are constantly surrounding me, I certainly don't need God trying to tell me what to do. Thanks though.
So when I hear NF rhetorically but honestly question God's authority, his rule, his kingship, I get it.
I don't sit in this bitterness or state of semi-rebellious attitude constantly, but there are moments or situations that I can't control but feel that I would have been able to do whatever better than how it happened.
And, really, that's not true all that often. Or ever.
At church last Sunday, the projectors weren't working, so we used hymnals. The good ole Baptist in me jumped for joy. And the first song we sang was "Amazing Grace." The old version, not the Chris Tomlin version.
It absolutely brought me to my knees. Of all the things I think I can do, administering amazing grace to save myself is not one of them. All the times I challenge the authority of my King, I am brought back to this one truth: he, in his infinite power, issued us grace that surpasses all other things.
It overpowers the unbelief and rebellion to redeem and restore. To fix what sin has broken and humbles me to bow before the one who saved a wretch like me.
