After church this past Sunday an old friend visiting in the morning service, caught me with tears in her eyes and said, “I don’t know what it was, but something broke free inside of me this morning as I watched you playing the piano with such joy and and passion.” Passion connects. God’s Spirit inhabits it and reminds us that we were born for passion.
One delightful work of the Spirit in my heart these recent years could be described as a rebirth of passion. There was a deadening middle-period in my adult life when I trudged on for nearly a decade without ever shedding a tear. I remember when it was a regular thing to beg God for an unleashing of my emotions. Now – they ambush me at the most random times. And along with tears has come a surprising ability to feel, move, shout, dance, cheer, and celebrate with an abandon I never could have imagined.
It’s made me wonder about the change. How did I come to this point, and what brought me here? First off I no longer feel like an orphan before God. I’ve had a deep and lasting revelation of the outrageous love of the Father towards me. He not only loves me, but He likes me. And He has adopted me into the shared life of the Father Son and Spirit. Orphans, I understand have often bankrupted their emotions in the process of yearning for belonging, intimacy and family. But now that I know I belong, the wells of my passion have been restored.
The second thing, I believe, is that I’ve come to understand the Kingdom. And the Kingdom means everything matters. I no longer have to sort through my days wondering what components of my life interest my Father, and which ones go beyond his scope of caring. He fills it all and brings meaning to everything from playing music to making breakfast, from blogging to biking. I’m no longer enslaved to a tightfisted life of religion, but I’ve been emancipated to soar in a world bursting with the presence and passion of the Father, Son, and Spirit.
I posted this years ago, but it bears repeating. George Target writes in regard to religion’s affect on the sons of Adam,
They don’t smoke, but neither do they breathe fresh air very deeply.
They don’t drink wine, but neither do they enjoy lemonade;
They don’t swear, but neither do they enjoy magnificent words;
Neither poetry nor prayer.
They don’t gamble, but neither do they take much chance on God;
They don’t look at women and girls with lust in their hearts,
But neither do they roll breathless with love and laughter,
Naked under the sun of high Summer.
It’s all rather pale and round-shouldered, The great Prince lying in prison.
If any of this sounds too familiar, I pray that you, too will experience a jaw-dropping sense of belonging to the Father, Son, and Spirit, and a staggering revelation of how the Kingdom brings meaning to even the mundane things of life.