Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Strugglin' With the Concept of my Own Humanity

Bob Dylan's work has helped shape me into the person I am today. I don't know what that says about me, but I think that he's probably the most important artist of our time. I am moved by his words and vision. I appreciate his quest for authenticity and his struggle with what it means to be human.

Below is possibly my favorite song of Bob's. It speaks of the struggle we face as we are being transformed from the sinful nature into Christ-likeness; the struggle against sin in an attempt to do what it righteous. It's a lonely and haunting song with a gentle reminder that we are not alone in our struggle and that one day our struggle will be over.

"Every Grain of Sand"
Shot of Love
Bob Dylan

In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed
There's a dyin' voice within me reaching out somewhere,
Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.

Don't have the inclination to look back on any mistake,
Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break.
In the fury of the moment I can see the Master's hand
In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.

O, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear,
Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer.
The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.

I gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame
And every time I pass that way I always hear my name.
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.

I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night
In the violence of a summers dream, in the chill of a wintry light,
In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space,
In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.

I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn there's someone there, other times it's only me.
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.