Taco, Kanye, and Numbering Our Days
The rain was pouring in sheets as I hustled to my car after the pre-school drop off. Finally, dry and on my way to warm in the driver seat of my car, I picked up my phone to start music for the drive home and noticed a text message from one of my best friends. The news it delivered has left my heart bereft: a giant of the faith of many has passed away. His name was Taco. Well, that’s not his real name, but it’s what he told everyone to call him. I have not seen or spoken to him in over thirteen years. His loss sends a ripple through my soul nonetheless.
Taco and his wife Donna have spent their lives pouring themselves out like drink offerings for the sake of the Gospel. I spent one the most faith forming months of my entire life in the mountains of Colorado with them. While I was much closer with Donna, who spoke words of truth and life over me that I still often ponder to this day, I can see as clearly as I see this blinking cursor before my eyes Taco’s proclamation of “into Your hands I commit my Spirit” in a language not my own as He shared the gift of the Cross with hundreds of young people hanging on to his every word. Taco’s passion for Christ was contagious. His desire for young people to know they had a Father that loved them permeated his every move. Far from perfect, faithful in perseverance, this is the life He lived and I am overcome with what the receiving line of faith must look like.
During days that feel wrought with strife, I am overwhelmed with the desire to climb up on my roof in the rain and shout from somewhere deep inside THIS IS WHAT WE WERE MADE FOR. We were made to number our days in conversations that encourage and build up and wrestle and love no matter the page you’re on. We were made to listen when deep cries out to deep and hear where we have more to learn. We were made to answer with trembling yes to the risk of Christ instead of yelling back from our pillar of fear.
At the end of our days, will we be known for what we argued about or for how we loved in Jesus’ Name?
We are wasting time, friends, shouting about whether or not Kanye is REALLY saved, and instead of using the conversation to find out if your neighbor is in pain. We are wasting time with selective listening, when there are stories that need to be heard. It’s not about policy, it’s about people. “The harvest is plentiful and the workers are few.” (Matthew 9:35-38) The words are plentiful, but the compassion is minimal. The harvest is made up of broken souls that drink from wells filled with water that lies. The workers are not called to condemn and correct them on the path to the well, but to guide them to the water of life and add to the nourishment as Christ changes their hearts.
We must do better. Let’s ask the questions. Let’s listen before we speak. Let’s open our eyes and our hands to see what God might have for us to in our days. The risk of what I might miss from not living life His way must outweigh my fear of the human fall out.