Hello Old Friends

That's the title of an old Rich Mullins song. I watched him sing this once when he sent his band off stage for a break. He sat there with his guitar and no shoes on and told us that life's pretty rough and that we needed to stick together if we were going to make it. I found this funny becasue Rich rarly talked in such cliche-like language. He himself then laughed and said something like this: "You know, we shouldn't try to be 'spiritual.' People always talk about being 'spritual.' What does that mean? Being spiritual doesn't mean you go to church more or raise your hands to heaven more, it means you mow your neighbor's lawn or bake cookies for a friend." Then he sang this song.

Hello old friends
There's really nothing new to say
But the old, old story bears repeating
And the plain old truth grows dearer every day
When you find something worth believing
Well, that's a joy that nothin' could take away

I was thinking about this song this morning on my drive this morning (I've been commuting to an off-site training location to help deliver a Microsoft Exchange 2007 class). This song reminds me that "the plain old truth" doesn't really matter if we don't share it together. Truth has no helpful meaning if we don't have the context of sharing it, experiencing it . . . together.

And so we meet again
After all these many years
Did we sow the seeds we're reaping
Now that the harvest calls us here
It seems that love blooms out of season
And much joy can blossom from many tears

Love blooms out of season indeed. Think of that and think of how joy can blossom from many tears. I have to tell you I've been sharing my faith and sharing my convictions and sharing my soul, but in this forum that doesn't work very well. What's the point of offering ideas if we can't look each other in the eye and be together to struggle with them together? How can words help if we don't see the joy or the tears each of us may be experiencing?

So old friends you must forget what you had to forgive
And let love be stronger than the feelings
That rage and run beneath the bridge
Knowin' morning follows evening
Makes each new day come as a gift

I think that sharing my faith cannot work when I cannot share myself. So I'm going to share myself and pray that along the way by knowing me you'll know Him.

A new leg of the journey has begun, because each new day has come as a gift.