Who doesn’t remember last year’s fiasco at the Video Music Awards involving Robin Thicke and Miley Cyrus? Much ado was made over it, and while Cyrus received most of the criticism, Thicke caught his share of flack. With such vulgarity, there’s no way God would speak through either of them, right?
And surely He wouldn’t use a song at a Bruno Mars concert, where the f-bomb and humping were celebrated parts of the performance!
But he did.
Occasionally, my past rears its ugly head, and shame speaks loudest in my ear. This happened recently, and I began to replay scenes in my mind, wallowing among the skeletons that are tucked away. The radio was on, but I wasn’t listening to the music. I was too busy running between my past and God’s ear, trying to remind Him of my guilt. Suddenly, as if a voice were singing in my ear, these words caught my attention: “You don’t have to be afraid of the monsters in your closet.” I snapped to the present, and rose from the descent into my ancient ruins. Shame fled, and peace took up residence within me. Those lyrics echoed on repeat in my soul. I looked them up, and much to my surprise, found them to be from Robin Thicke’s song, “You’re My Baby.”
When you’ve spent a lifetime earning love, then one day decide you’re sick of having to perform, some people you thought loved you will vanish. And it takes a long time to recover and change your thinking when you’ve believed God’s love to be based on your performance. About the same time I was beginning to wade into the depths of giving up performance-based love, Bruno Mars’s “Grenade” hit the airwaves. I remember running one day, mentally yammering to God about needing to know if he loved me. With earplugs nestled in my ears, I heard “I’d die for you, baby.” His voice whispered through Mars’s smooth-as-silk vocals. As I sat among thousands last night and listened to Mars perform “Grenade” on his Moonshine Jungle tour, I was reminded of God’s unconditional, unwavering love.
Don’t tell me God won’t go to any lengths and speak in whatever way we can hear him best to remind us how much he loves us. There’s no whopping ego that keeps him from speaking through situations and people most Christians would dismiss as “ungodly.” Listen for him . . . in the wind, in the melodies and harmonies, in the lyrics, in the ocean waves, in the pages of a book, and especially, in the places and sounds and situations where you don’t expect to find him. He’s always there, waiting to be heard . . .
