Muck

Sometimes, life muck seeps through crack and crevice, through foundations we thought were thicker, right through our protection and construction.

Funny, sometimes, it happens when things are the best they’ve been, when water is plentiful and wind is quiet, when harvest and seeding are done.

This abundance cannot insulate us from stark reality: we are helpless. We are needy. We are beggars.

Life is a mess. Life reveals our mess. And life spurts up mess—constant trickles or volcanic heaves.

It needs cleaning up.

It needs repair.

It needs deep help.

And the heart is saved from despair by worship, because God is good in all of this, through all of this, regardless of the outcome of “this.” God is here now, in this moment; and He is beyond now, transcending the seconds of sorrow and perspiration.

We must clean up life, we are not safe from it. But, we are safe and happy in it, when He holds us.

So we can sing in the muck.