Mulholland

I bought my fish tonight! It feels like a momentous occasion, but more on it later. I bought him at a store up in Sherman Oaks, and on the way back home Laura and I took the Cahuenga Pass (mainly due to my inability to pick up one of several 101 ramps). I don't mind driving, and I'm glad I missed the turns, because we ended up driving past Mulholland. We love that road. I would have pulled off right there for a drive, but we had to take Sir Reginald Merriweather Toffee-Nosed Snobbybottom to his new tank, so we decided to come back.

The thought of cruising down Mulholland on a warm night makes us contemplative and peaceful, so Laura (in control of music) put on a song that meant something to her during a previous season in her life, and that got me thinking about my own life and how it's changed. Some songs have come up to my memory that I haven't heard in a long time, and I've been enjoying them on a new level lately. The song "His Eyes Never Close" by Sherri Youngward came to mind, and I couldn't shake those haunting lyrics. I listened to that song on endless repeat during a dark time in my life years ago, and tonight the lyrics just wouldn't leave my head till we played it. We listened to it on the way to Mulholland, I've never had a more relaxing time in traffic on Highland near the Bowl.

When your race is reduced to a crawl
And your hands are weak from holding on
Keep your eyes fixed straight ahead
To the one who walked this way before you
Child stop weeping
God already knows
Even while you are sleeping
His eyes never close
Though the clouds may hide
The stars at night
Still I know, they haven’t lost their shine
Though the rains will come
So will the sun, God’s faithfulness
Is sure as the dawn
Child stop weeping
God already knows
Even while you are sleeping
His eyes never close
So close your eyes
And rest a while
Don’t be afraid
Jesus has walked this way
Before you
Child stop weeping
God already knows
Even while you are sleeping
His eyes never close

I wondered at first why this song would suddenly stick to me so well that I couldn't let it go till I heard it. I'm glad I was driving down Mulholland, because the seemingly aimless curves always clear my head, and there is something so familiar and comforting about my car that makes me feel like its a member of my family. I realized that with this song, my level of appreciation has changed so drastically. In college at Messiah, I used to cling to the warm, faint hope that this song afforded me; that my dark night of the soul would have an end and that I would one day have joy. Sort of like being in a prison cell in a dungeon on unknown charges. Only someone has told you that you won't be there forever, that you will eventually be released. You have no tangible proof, only the trust you've developed in the kind Voice from beyond the bars that tells you with authority and certainty.

I've been released. I trusted it would come (just barely), and it did. These past couple of years have shown to me how much God planted in my life that I've allowed to grow. Now when I hear this song, I hear it with new ears, and it fills my heart up so full. It reminds me of those times when my spirit could do nothing but lay on the ground and listen to the words wash over me. Now I feel like soaring when I look back and find that hope and faith really do bring things to fruition, and that God's faithfulness is "sure as the dawn." Praise Him.