I don’t know what moved us to play some old Bruce
Springsteen songs this lazy Saturday morning; but we did. The guy’s got wacky thoughts and messed up
political ideas, but I can’t deny I do enjoy his music. It is tough-guy-poetry wrapped around catchy tunes. People from old steel town, now turned rust
belt America, fully understand and identify with what he talks about in his
songs.
Man, sometimes I toy with the idea that I might’ve
been born in the wrong place for I sure understand and identify with it too. I get the love-hate relationship with the
town that keeps you trapped like a dog inside an invisible fence which shocks
you every time you try to run away. You
love it and you hate it because it runs through your veins and you can’t escape. This is where your sweat and tears drip down
your face. This is where you do your
living and hope not to do your dying.
The twinkling lights at Christmas remind you of an age-old promise that
turns it into a blessing. The baskets
hanging on the street lamps make it smell like home; and the rows of American
flags in Main Street remind you that you are actually one of the braves, who
lives in the land that is still free.
Though you reject the thought, this is where the Lord put you and you
know it in your gut..it’s not yet time
to go.
Yes, I get it.
Even though I wasn’t born nor raised in the United States, in the
figurative sense, I grew up
here. I became of age in small town America
and I certainly consider it my own. It
was here that I met my Jesus. It was
here that He gave me life. It is here
that He fills me with hope. And even
though I’m not there yet, here on
earth He has made this my home. For as
long as I continue to be here it is for me to seek Him first as I wait for Him
and His Kingdom to come.
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