I really love this song. I don't know that I've ever identified more with a song so obscure.
I'm putting the lyrics here, but the lyrics are only so beautiful if the music is with it, so I encourage anyone reading this to find the song and listen.
I'm not sure I know exactly what Justin Vernon was intending but I do know that the lyrics reflect my thoughts many times when I learn something new and difficult about Jesus Christ, and am brought to a fork in the road of real belief or hypocricy. Will I refuse the freedom of His redemption, or will I know real love?
I fight with the choice to continue carrying my load or "unstack".
A lot of times, I find because of my sin, mistakes, and failures "all my money gone, and I'm drunk as hell" (no, I've never in life been drunk as hell). At these times I cannot find what I had always believed, and the black crow taunts me in what I think are losses. The effects of "stacking" become evident.
The song ends with a renewal of belief and resolve of love in "unstacking your load".
Praise Jesus for imagery.
"Stacks" by Bon Iver
This my excavation and today is kumran
Everything that happens is from now on
This is pouring rain. This is paralyzed
I keep throwing it down two-hundred at a time
It's hard to find it when you knew it
When your money's gone
And you're drunk as hell
On your back with your racks as the stacks as your load
In the back and the racks and the stacks are your load
In the back with your racks and you're un-stacking your load
I've twisting to the sun I needed to replace
The fountain in the front yard is rusted out
All my love was down In a frozen ground
There's a black crow sitting across from me; his wiry legs are crossed
And he's dangling my keys he even fakes a toss
Whatever could it be That has brought me to this loss?
On your back with your racks as the stacks as your load
In the back and the racks and the stacks of your load
In the back with your racks and you're un-stacking your load
This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization
It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away
Your love will be Safe with me
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
recurring post
About once every 3 months, I think I write about the same thing. Essentially how I attempt to find satisfaction in things here on earth, but don't. And then the realization that the reason is because true fulfillment is not offered here. It is offered only in the full presence of Jesus Christ, and the complete eradication of sin.
There are many things in the last week that I've been disappointed about. One is the wilderness. How I LOVE the outdoors. How I LOVE to travel and discover things in nature. To feel the elements. To breathe the air. To hear a roaring stream pouring over boulders.
The Smokey Mountains are among the most beautiful I've ever witnessed. I spent the weekend renewing my Wilderness First Responder Certification. 70 degress in the mountains of East TN is like heaven. But not quite enough like it, I have found.
I remember having this talk with my bro once. And I think somewhere in there he quoted C.S. Lewis. Perhaps it was the Weight of Glory. I remember almost crying because the words rang so true. And now I feel the same. I walk in the midst of a forrest so tall. A breeze so perfectly soft. The smell of the air so fresh. The sounds almost silent. But no matter how beautiful. No matter how great the experience. It is not enough. The problem lies within me. I want so badly to be a part of that beauty. To go deeper and deeper into it. To immerse myself in it. To speak the language of nature which points so directly to its Creator. But I do not find a home even there. So I explore more. I walk farther. I learn more. I run faster. I climb higher. I travel deeper. I think more. And still. Whatever I am looking for in it alludes me. I cannot grasp it. I cannot take it in completely. It cannot take me in completely.
There is joy, but it is a joy of missing. It is a snapshot of home, but home is still a journey away. It's the same with awakening. I open my eyes from a dream. The visions of a house I grew up in, family surrounding me, the feeling of someone reaching out to me. Not only to touch me, but somehow entering my very gut and placing in it peace and rest and joy and resolve. Permanence. Freedom. But I awake. To things that are almost enough. But aren't.
This is called my Longing for Home. Which I'm sure I have titled several blogs before. It never leaves. Sometimes it is a happy longing, and sometimes it is bitter. But always it does the trick in reminding me that the presence of Jesus Christ is what I am after.
There are many things in the last week that I've been disappointed about. One is the wilderness. How I LOVE the outdoors. How I LOVE to travel and discover things in nature. To feel the elements. To breathe the air. To hear a roaring stream pouring over boulders.
The Smokey Mountains are among the most beautiful I've ever witnessed. I spent the weekend renewing my Wilderness First Responder Certification. 70 degress in the mountains of East TN is like heaven. But not quite enough like it, I have found.
I remember having this talk with my bro once. And I think somewhere in there he quoted C.S. Lewis. Perhaps it was the Weight of Glory. I remember almost crying because the words rang so true. And now I feel the same. I walk in the midst of a forrest so tall. A breeze so perfectly soft. The smell of the air so fresh. The sounds almost silent. But no matter how beautiful. No matter how great the experience. It is not enough. The problem lies within me. I want so badly to be a part of that beauty. To go deeper and deeper into it. To immerse myself in it. To speak the language of nature which points so directly to its Creator. But I do not find a home even there. So I explore more. I walk farther. I learn more. I run faster. I climb higher. I travel deeper. I think more. And still. Whatever I am looking for in it alludes me. I cannot grasp it. I cannot take it in completely. It cannot take me in completely.
There is joy, but it is a joy of missing. It is a snapshot of home, but home is still a journey away. It's the same with awakening. I open my eyes from a dream. The visions of a house I grew up in, family surrounding me, the feeling of someone reaching out to me. Not only to touch me, but somehow entering my very gut and placing in it peace and rest and joy and resolve. Permanence. Freedom. But I awake. To things that are almost enough. But aren't.
This is called my Longing for Home. Which I'm sure I have titled several blogs before. It never leaves. Sometimes it is a happy longing, and sometimes it is bitter. But always it does the trick in reminding me that the presence of Jesus Christ is what I am after.
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