Because You’re Mine, I Walk the Line

Ever find God speaking to you through seemingly unconnected worldly things?

One recent morning, having had a woeful day previously, where frustrations wore me so thin I flew into more than one flight of rage (not with others, but in my own private torment) I was resurrected.

Do you ever get that feeling? Having been stood within the acid of the world’s acridity, having faced the infamy of my own failure, having tasted the censure of my own despair, God confronted me with His newness. Isaiah 43:18-19, again, came into my lived experience. From one day where I sorely felt the desire to give up, resurrection came the day following.

Because of this new thing.

Because. Ever thought about the etymology of the word? It BE for the CAUSE. The CAUSE is something that BE. The cause is ever there.

BE CAUSE of what’s mine, I walk the line — I do whatever God requires of me, to live, to work, to prosper, to support; anything and everything He requires.

Who are they who are mine? My family, of course.

The Lord shared with me the vision of my death, the death of my wife, my son, each of my daughters. It was a precious compendium of images. Looking back from several possibilities of death, God could show me just how prized life is. Any of our deaths change things, forever, in the realm of this existence.

Without a concept of death in mind, we take life too much for granted. God reminds us how real He is in the concept of our deaths. If life doesn’t get our attention, then death just must. In death, life becomes ethereal. In death, life has its maximum meaning.

Because my son is mine, I walk the line. I work a job (of three presently) that tries my patience to the point of despair occasionally. I walk that line, and pray that I might ever live, for him; for his wellbeing. Because my son is mine, I do not give up. I cannot just give up a job I find hard. I must provide. And I must keep going. But I sympathise with anyone who didn’t make it, because (that word again) that could so easily have been me. It almost was.

Because my wife is mine, I walk the line. I spend my time with her, because much earlier in our history I chose to. Even if I got bored, I’m not going back on that choice. The fact is I fall ever more in love with her with each day that passes, and it’s not just a cliché. I get less of my own way than ever, but in my marriage I’ve never been happier. The sound of her voice, her visual presence, the thought of her in other people’s lives when I’m not around, the way she listens, and her wisdom and faithfulness; all these things and more bring me uncontainable joy.

Because my daughters are mine, I walk the line. I’m there for them, and ensure, even when I don’t agree with what they do, that they have my love, which is the support of my joy at their sheer presence and my practical presence in their lives. And the joys God has given me in watching them grow, overcoming the occasional temptation of being a critical-spirited father, I simply enjoy, because they’re mine. So, I walk the line.

The CAUSE of my NEED
 to WALK THE LINE
is they’re MINE.

Because life is dear and precious and to be cherished, I walk the line, because of what’s mine; what God’s given to me. Life ought to teach us to value everything that God has given us.

Thank you, Lord, for Johnny Cash!