Set Fire to the Rain

Today, our fabulous guest poster brings A Writer's Perspective.  When I first met AWP, I didn't quite know what to make of her.  However, after a year of living with her, I felt like I've known her forever.  I love that I can always count on her to bring a fresh and different perspective into the conversation.  (Even if she thinks that making minor references to movies in the fantasy/ sci-fi genres makes her a "nerd" when she can't even remember Samwise Gamgee's name.)

What I love about AWP is that she doesn't mince words.  She's a tell-it-like-it-is person.  No beating around the bush.  A let's get down to business (and defeat the Huns) kinda gal.  The following post reflects this sort of life-approach.  Enjoy!

Set Fire to the Rain

The other day, I was watching “So You Think You Can Dance” – undoubtedly the best show on TV during the summer, but I may be biased because I love dance – and Adele’s song, Set Fire to the Rain came on. The choreographed routine that went with it was alright. It wasn’t anything to write home about. However, Lady Gaga’s critique that followed it was. She said something along the lines of fire being the complete opposite of rain, and how the two create an imagery of separate forces working against each other.

To most people, it seems obvious that… well, fire is the opposite of rain and that the two are opposing forces. Very much like Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, or Frodo/the fat hobbit and Sauron [I promise I’m not a nerd… however, live long and prosper]. But I’m the type of person who doesn’t see literary “obviousness”, much like I’m not the type of person to realize anything’s wrong with me until someone points out to me that I’m obviously wrong. In this case, that person telling me something was wrong was Lady Gaga.

OK. So, we didn’t have a heart to heart convo, and she didn’t personally tell me something was wrong. But outside the realm of her critique brought to light an issue that had come up during the year – there was something off about my relationship with God.

Now, my question to you is this: we all go through good and bad times. Now, when it seems like God’s pulled the rug out from under you only to leave you with brokenness, how much of what you do is out of trust that God will lead you out of it? And, how much of what you do is out of spite?

Personally, I belong to the camp that’ll say – without a blink of an eye – that I trust God to lead me out of whatever situation He’s put me in. I trust that He’s put me there for a specific reason, and that I’m there to grow. I trust that. I really do. And, I really believe it. I find that I’m closer to God when I’m hurting – I pray more, I read His words more, I depend on my brothers and sisters more. I’m closer, and He always leads me out of the darkness sooner or later [but never sooner or later than He intends for His purpose].

Well, I find I’m closer to God, except for these little instances. I’m closer, until I find myself driving 85 miles per hour on a 65 mph road. Or, I find myself trying out ciggies even though I don’t smoke. Or, when I go for a three mile run when I have a sprained knee. Or, when I find myself throwing down shot after shot of alcohol, even though I know better. Or, any other time where my actions are reckless and scream out loud, “F*** you, God. Look at what I can do. I can throw my own life away, even though You saved me. I’m taking back the control. How do you like them apples now?” And, I do this while quoting Romans 5 on church at Sundays.

Talk about things being like fire and rain. Talk about setting fire to the rain.

Now, I know this is the part where I’m supposed to expound some grand knowledge about what I’ve discovered through the Bible. I know I can use alliterate phrases to help you remember what I want to teach you. But I’m not exactly sure what I want to teach you.

Well, except maybe this little tidbit I learned this spring when hope really did lead to perseverance, and where perseverance never failed: during the praying and during the rebellion, God was still with me through it all, and He stayed by my side when it felt like all my dreams and all my hopes and all I’d been fighting for had suddenly vanished. He never leaves, even when I do. And when I return – a blessing from God for pursuing me even though I’m a little turd, and I don’t – it’s always like the first breath of air you take after you think you’re going to drown and die in a deep, dark ocean with no one around you.

Refreshing, like rain is to the fire.