Sandy speaks on matters of life and mirth.
Monkeys are seldom present.

Saturday, December 30, 2006

The Same Question

I got a CD from my Grandma last Christmas. It was called Reflection of Something, by Todd Agnew.

I opened it today.

This was a mistake.

Not opening it, but opening it a year after I got it. You see, I took one look at the cover and thought "Nah..." It's a soft-focus, warm-toned photo of a hippy, bare-footed man seated cross-legged, looking down with a dopey smile on his face. I looked at the tracklist, and dismissed it as yet another average Christian CD. My Grandmother doesn't exactly have the best track record on this kind of thing, you see. For instance, and my personal favourite, the other CD she gave me, which features 'The Ten Commandment Boogie', with lines like:

"We're half way through with one that's just for you - Listen to your mom and dad 'cause what they say you gotta do."

"the B-I-B-L-E, yeah that's the book for me"
and my personal favourite:

"Commandment Seven feels like heaven but only with your husband or wife"
(oh for goodness sake, go and look it up if you don't know what it is.)

So anyway, I didn't exactly have high hopes for Reflections of Something. Or, in fact, any hopes at all, given that I waited a year to open it. In fact, it was still in its protective cellophane casing earlier this evening, when I decided that I might as well put it on my laptop.

And it's fantastic.

Todd Agnew's voice is pretty good, and the tunes aren't bad, but what really gets me are the issues he addresses, the words he uses. He isn't a perfect, squeaky-clean Christian, singing gloatingly about how awesome it is to be a Christian. He's a real person, a Christ-follower, someone who truly loves Jesus and is doing his best and not always succeeding.

And I don’t know what You want, what You see in my life
And I don’t know what You mean, how You could be glorified
I’m not too sure about this idea of sacrifice

My Jesus would never be accepted in my church
The blood and dirt on His feet would stain the carpet
But He reaches for the hurting and despised the proud
I think He'd prefer Beale Street to the stained glass crowd
I know that He can hear me if I scream out loud.

I'm reminded of a cartoon I saw once. Two turtles sit, talking to each other. One says to the other, “Sometimes I’d like to ask why God allows poverty, famine, and injustice when he could do something about it.” The other turtle asks him why he doesn't. The first replies. “I’m afraid God might ask me the same question.”