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.