Crash and Burn

Today was my day off. I threw in a random CD in the car's player. It was Daughtry's album, which is a great listen to for me from time to time.

His song, "Crashed", is one of my favorites on the album. Though I'm pretty sure he's talking about a physical relationship, I couldn't help thinking about my relationship with the Lord.

Here are the lyrics:

 Well I was moving at the speed of sound.
Head-spinning, couldn't find my way around, and
Didn't know that I was going down.
Yeah, yeah.
Where I've been, well it's all a blur.
What I was looking for, I'm not sure.
Too late and didn't see it coming.
Yeah, yeah.

And then I crashed into you,
And I went up in flames.
Could've been the death of me,
But then you breathed your breath in me.
And I crashed into you,
Like a runaway train.
You will consume me,
But I can't walk away.

Somehow, I couldn't stop myself.
I just wanted to know how it felt.
Too strong, I couldn't hold on.
Yeah, yeah.
Now I'm just tryin' to make some sense
Out of how and why this happened.
Where we're heading, there's just no knowing.
Yeah, yeah.

And then I crashed into you,
And I went up in flames.
Could've been the death of me,
But then you breathed your breath in me.
And I crashed into you,
Like a runaway train.
You will consume me,
But I can't walk away.

From your face, your eyes
Are burning to me.
You saved me, you gave me
Just what I need.
Oh, just what I need.

And then I crashed into you,
And I went up in flames.
Could've been the death of me,
But then you breathed your breath in me.
And I crashed into you,
Like a runaway train.
You will consume me,
But I can't walk away.

And then I crashed into you,
And then I crashed into you,
And then I crashed into you,
And then I crashed into you,
And I crashed into you,
Like a runaway train.
You will consume me,
But I can't walk away.

The whole notion of crashing into God and into His will seem to be a recurring theme in my life.  This is not to say that I'm not spending the quiet time I need with Him (though I could always use a little more), but it seems that on the days that on the days when I'm running around like a madman at the parish or the high school, the Lord "stops" in a way that I can't not help but crash into Him. It's honestly a very beautiful and awesome thing.

The idea of the first verse sparks in me those moments throughout those busy days when I seem to lose myself in the schedule; when, unfortunately, those moments of ministry just seem like another thing to check off the list. The running around keeps me busy, but, unfortunately and stupidly, not always focused on God. So much so that I really don't see God rushing at me head-first.

The refrain reminds me of how, when I do crash into the Lord, it can be something so overwhelming that I'm not too sure about how to respond. But that's the great gift of the Holy Spirit: He continues to breathe life into me (into us!) in those moments when I feel that I've had the wind knocked out of me. Yep, I crash into the Lord in those moments "like a runaway train", but I really cannot walk away, because His will does consume me. His will is my will - not just as a priest or a Catholic / Christian, but as a human being made in His image and likeness. And I know that, ultimately, HE does and will consume me, just as I consume Him in the Eucharist . . . and I can't walk away from that.

The second verse intuits the human soul - and my soul - when we encounter God as He truly is inside us. I don't want to stop knowing how God continues to form me, to mold me, through my many encounters with Him. Yet I know that His presence is just to strong for me to hold onto anything else. And I do try to make some sense on how **this** happened. (**THIS** being anything: my life, my vocation, my assignments, my relationship with family and friends, etc.) As for the line "Where we're headed, there's just no knowing" . . . well, God knows where it's all heading. I certainly don't. But that's the awesomeness and beauty of all **this**.

The bridge is awesome when we think of it in the context of contemplative prayer or Eucharistic adoration - that from His Holy Face, His eyes burns into me - burn into us! - so that we may know the great gaze of Love with which He looks upon all His children. And to think - especially as we have been throughout this Lenten season - about how He has saved me (us!) and has given me (us!, again) just what I've (we've) needed. That's overwhelming, indeed! But, nonetheless, important. It's in these silent moments - these "silent crashes" - that I have come to recognize the joy that comes from being consumed by Him who has loved me (us!) first.

Crashing into God has allowed me to see myself as I truly am and how He sees me. Yes, I'm flawed, I'm a sinner, and I've needed His help more times than I can count. But that's the very reason that I can go on. God will never let me go too far out of control without stopping Himself so that I can crash into Him to be renewed and receive His breath of the Holy Spirit. This is why frequent visits to the Sacrament of Reconciliation is so very important. This is why going to Mass every week (or every day, if one is able) is so very important. The more opportunities we allow ourselves to crash into the Lord, the more times we will be able to be consumed by Him to do His will.

We're never too busy to take that moment in prayer. We're never too busy to recognize the workings of God in our lives. We allow the temporal world to distract us from the eternal - and that includes doing those wonderful works in His Name. But when we go too far of course, it's wonderful to know that God will allow us to crash into Himself.

When we run away from the crash, it's going to be on fire. It's our choice of one of two ways in which we respond: 1. To run and be on fire to do His will with the gifts of the Spirit; or 2. To run away, trying to put out the flames. The first way is to allow the fire to purify us to be found worthy to do His will. The second is to run away in our cowardice, afraid to see what God truly has planned for us.

We'll all crash into God at some point in our lives. That's inevitable. How we respond is our own choice. The question then becomes:

Do I allow the fire to burn, or do I put even the smallest flame out?




Enjoy the journey . . .