A Little While

A sorta kinda allegory of 1 Peter 1:6-9

Let’s be honest, our lives happen mostly in rooms where voices vacillate

between screams and whispers. They are venomous hisses speaking doubt

and despair into our hearts. Relentlessly. Everyday. In the quiet of night and

busyness of a Thursday. Their chorus is constant and tells us over and over

three chilling words—we’re not enough.

Not enough to live meaningful lives.

Not enough to mean much to others.

Not enough to be loved by a God we’ve never seen and who allegedly isn’t

very interested in seeing us.

The dark choir berates us every morning as we stand before bathroom

mirrors and sit in traffic and at cubicles and classroom desks.

And here’s the kicker—we are not enough. Not in ourselves. Nope—not

even close. But we weren’t left to ourselves. We are not alone and the idea

that we are is the darkest lie in the universe.

You see there’s holy blood and it’s more than enough. There’s also a holy

robe to cover our spiritual nakedness too. And most importantly there’s the

relentless love of a King who is absolutely enough to, wait for it, make us

enough. Way more than enough.

All that said, the voices do not cease. They fill our ears with the same old

tired hits : You’re Unloved, That Failure Was The Last Straw, and the crowd

favorite—Your God Walked Away.

I hate these songs but I know the lyrics to every one of them. I hate that I do.

But I do.

It is here that I declare that Truth sings a chorus too. Allow me to paint the

reality this way. Imagine you’re waiting for the school bus like some 1980’s

Breakfast Club extra. You’re in full blown teen angst as you listen to tunes

on a cool Sony Walkman. Then out of the corner of your eye you spot a

beat-up Honda Civic roll-up. You remember the one—it had a rusty fender, a

cracked windshield, a bad muffler but an insane sound system. A guy leans

out the window and says, “Jump in—I just made a really cool mix tape and

you have to hear this one song called A Little While by the band Impulsive

Peter. I’ve been listening to it over and over. Have you heard it—you gotta

hear it.”

You jump in the car and are amazed at how old and battered it is yet it smells

like lilac and life—even better than that new car smell. You look over and

notice the dude's hand is scarred badly as he pops a cassette into the stereo.

A downbeat ushers in an exploding melody and a vocalist sings this:

Joy hides in shadows and sorrows

But Joy can still be found

Even in the fire of very hard things

In a time span called a little while

In a place full of tears, trauma and trials

Where the hard things birth real faith

Worth more than mountains of gold

That won’t melt from the fires that come

The fires that burn and burn and burn on

At that point you look over and notice the fella driving is locked into the

drums. Tears are framing his eyes yet he’s smiling a smile that is so

profound and pure it might just one day wash over the universe. He laughs

and shakes his head and turns up the song, “This is the best part—this is so

good.”

You haven’t seen the One you long for

But you love him nonetheless

You won’t see him now or for awhile

But night will give way to dawn

Your belief will carry you to the place

Where faith morphs into sight

Let the promise fill you with hope

Even now

Let joy leap from your face and heart and soul

Many hard things are here

And many more will come

But joy is greater

And the hard things will only last for a little while

As the last note sounds you roll into your driveway. You suddenly realize the

dude next you is not some 5th year senior but the Savior of the world. He

turns and stares into your soul, “The hard things only last for a little while.

Don’t forget that. I got you and I got this. Let the hard stuff do its work so

that what you say you believe is sound and true and able to withstand storms

and snake hisses and that choir that greets you everyday. Take heart. I will

see you again—in a little while.”