{Warning:  the following post is a bit more melancholy than what you are used to hearing out of me.  I almost shared these thoughts with you, a little over a year ago.  But I deleted the whole post, fearing it was just too sad.  Tonight, I bravely hit "publish", remembering my commitment to "Write Hard and Clear About What Hurts"...}








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I am reminded of an old '70's song tonight - a song that has spoken to me profoundly for about three or four years now. It isn't a "Christian" song. It is a life experience song. A raw and honest and vulnerable song.



Forgive the drama, but every time I hear it, I cry. Sometimes, depending on what has happened in my recent history, I ugly-cry.



Tonight, I ugly-cried. There may or may not have been hiccuping.



But even on a great day, there are always at least tears in my eyes whenever I hear this song. Every. Dang. Time. I am not sure of the story behind the lyrics, but like all really good art (and UNlike Scripture), it lends itself to my own personal interpretation.



I've lived the Landslide. There was a time, many years ago, when I might have seen my reflection in a snow-covered hill...strong...invincible...solid. I built my life around my children, educating them at home, pouring calling and purpose and destiny into them at every opportunity.



I would never have consciously admitted it, but I thought I could insure their outcome with the currency of my own passion for Christ. The child in my heart wanted to believe in happily ever after, and that prodigals only happened to other people.



It's no secret. My sons took their spiritual inheritance and treated it as worse than insignificant.



Landslide.



My world really did crumble. Because I had placed my well-being in something other than In Christ Alone.



A common midlife miscalculation. A sudden riptide that threatened my till-then firm footing. I doubted whether I could really handle the changing seasons of my life.



I held tight to that mis-placed hope, but the winds of change were gale-force and unrelenting for about the space of three years, and I was afraid.  I was so afraid of the human condition called "failure".



One day...I simply let go. Open-palmed and falling forward, God's grace became the only hope I had.



Losing myself in the ensuing landslide was a severe mercy, and a wonderful, bountiful dealing for my soul.



I hope the day comes when, every time my sons hear the hymn "In Christ Alone", they think of me and get misty-eyed...



...and I hope that every time my boys hear "Landslide" they think of me...worship God for His Great Love for them...



...and do the ugly-cry.











"Landslide"



I took my love and took it down

I climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills

Till the landslide brought me down



Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?



Well, I've been afraid of changing

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm getting older too



Well, I've been afraid of changing

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm getting older too

Oh, I'm getting older too



I take my love, take it down

I climb a mountain and turn around

And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills

Will the landslide bring you down

And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills

Will the landslide bring you down, oh, oh

The landslide bring you down







Grace and Peace,



Sheila Atchley



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