one too many mornings

Day #4 at DeBeen Espresso, and today is a Bob Dylan kind of day. I have my headphones cranked, Dylan picks away and sings to me, and I get lost in the half-melodies and rhymes. But then he breaks in with harmonica. I say "break" because it's so much louder than anything else in the recording, and my knee-jerk response is to tap F11 (volume down) a couple times for the duration. After a few songs, I realized what I was doing and scolded myself. That was the mix he wanted, the dynamics desired of the creator, so that's what I'm gonna listen to and appreciate. Putting it that way gets me thinking about the perfect will of God and my place in all of that. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that the world is running exactly as God would like. I don't think he ever wanted hunger, sex trafficking, and abortion, and I can't tell you why he allows it to go on. But what I do know is that he is good and he still holds this pit of chaos in the palms of his hands. He knows what he's doing. He has a plan and it will happen, come Hell or high water. I mean... high water already happened, and he's still on the thrown, isn't he? So I take comfort in this, and I hold onto hope of his sovereignty. And I leave the volume of my faith just where it is, despite the loudness swallowing this world and crashing through the caverns of my head, because I know it's his mix and he knows what he's doing.