‘There is a place that I know where I need more often to go. 

A place of amazing comfort and rest.’

from Arms of my Father, by Dave Chumchal

We sing these words, and in singing them, we affirm their truth, their urgency, their childlikeness. But we too often don’t. Go there, that is. Somehow in our unhealed brokenness, we can be duped into thinking we’ve ‘arrived’ in knowing all the truth about Jesus and what has been made available to us through His cross, the mighty promises of God to us, the presence of His Spirit in us. Thus deluded, we can be led to live our day-to-day lives like all these facts, while amazing and praiseworthy and powerful, still leave us to carry life’s burdens on our weary shoulders. We get mired in making a living, raising a family, dodging life’s bullets and potholes, striving to repair everything and everyone that is broken around us. We unwittingly, and tragically, become standoffish to the big Invitation, and the central key, finding our delight in Jesus, dims and soon appears wimpy, impractical, the stuff of dreams.