I wasn't going to write a post for every Tenth Avenue North song, and I'm still not trying to, but I was listening to Lift Us Up To Fall on Sunday afternoon and several images popped into my head. So I'm linking y'all to a Youtube video with the song - 'tisn't going to be on the actual playlist. This is just something that may or may not develop into a complete album-series. If I do actually make it through all the songs, I may have to try the same with an Andrew or Bebo or Fernando album. We'll see.

1. Mind-games. Most people have experienced or at least witnessed the wonder that is the drop-it game. If you haven't, try standing by the highchair of a not-quite baby, not-quite toddler. Wait for something to inevitably fall from the tray to the ground. It may be a sippy-cup, pacifier, blanket, spit-up rag, what-have-you--something non-breakable and (usually) non-edible. When the item hits the floor the first time, you grin a little and think "aww, poor (cute!) baby" and pick it up and give it back. But it goes over the edge again - and again - and again - and after the fifteenth time picking it up you begin to think "cute kid? he's manipulating me!" Fifty falls later, your spin begins to cramp, and so you decide to walk away. One step from the highchair and he begins to howl. You feel like a jerk.

No, this doesn't have any spiritual implications regarding our relationship to God - or at least no positive ones. Maybe we are all little, manipulated children clamouring for attention and throwing stuff around for God to pick it up. I like to think God wouldn't be fooled by that, that he is able to tell between those who sincerely seek Him and those who just want stuff (the Bible likes to think this as well). So this isn't really analogous to anything - it's just what I think of when I hear and lift us up to fall... Big, pleading blue eyes with a spark of malicious glee, waiting for me to pick up that spit-up rag for the gajillionth time.

Moving on...

2. My Sin. Paul describes the continual tripping-up of the flesh in Romans 6. When I hear this song, I can't help but think of the many times even daily that God takes me into his arms and lovingly affirms his promises for me, only for me to respond with betrayal and sin. Though I don't think this is the focus of the song, it works. God is strong to lift us up, and has done so in a powerful, eternally-changing way. At the same time as God sees the work of Christ in me perfected forever, I have a much more finite point of view. God sees that Christ has paid; I am still seeing why Christ had to pay in the first place. Andrew Peterson knows this well when he sings: I'm weak and weary of breaking His heart with the cycle of my sin. Still, he turns his face to me and I kiss it just to betray him once again." But the cycle of our sin does not continue forever. The song continues: Amen, Come Lord Jesus. One day, Christ will come and lift us up into heaven, and we will fall on our faces before him with a holy adoration that is wholly adoration, not streaked with shame or sorrow or guilt.

3. Mercy. My knees are shaking under the weight of my body. My head is light, and yet hangs heavy, sagging below my shoulders. I deserve to die; I know it. Any moment now I will hear the words Take her away! ridden with righteous anger and condemnation. I do not merit even a pleading glance in His direction.

Then He speaks.

"Take her away," He says. There is no anger in His voice. I half-look up, then catch myself. I dare not hope... "Take her away, and dress her in the finest of robes. She shall dine with me tonight. Her sins are pardoned." I cannot believe it--I, a murderer, an adulteress, a thief, I who spat in His face when first He offered me love and security--it is too much to bear or think that I have been pardoned, and yet He adds more! Garments--food--His own company...!

I think my heart will explode. He has exalted me, raised me from my shame, and I can stand before Him no longer. I throw myself to the ground at His feet.

4. Ministry. This essentially comes from the line in the song: You send the rain and life begins, so rain on us and reign within our lives again.

When I focused on that line I realized: isn't that how the Gospel works? We are lifted up, receive life-bringing rain from the hands of our Savior, and then given the commission to carry this life to the entire world. So lift us up to fall - raise us in Your life so that our joyful proclamations of that life may fall like the rain that gives life to dead seed upon a world of deadened hearts that thirst for Christ, the one whose rain and reign in us both enables and sustains the ministry of His body.

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