Every Grain of Sand

This Lenten season has been my favorite thus far, and I think it has impacted me so much because I have been able to see more clearly than I have in quite some time. Whether that is indeed true or not, my perception is that I have been awakened to some things in my life where I was in deep slumber. In the same moment, I have been able to hold on to mercy and guilt and realize that both are needed in my life, I see myself for who I am and I feel anguish over my past and yet I realize that the wounds I have do not hold the final say, that Christ comes and heals and molds me into something else.

 One of the songs that I have continued to play on iTunes is Derek Webb’s version of Bob Dylan’s song “Every Grain of Sand”. Here I have posted the lyrics below, I think it gives insight into what I have been dealing with:

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 dying 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.

Oh, 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 summer’s 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 time it’s only me
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.

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