Almost Persuaded

Spending time with a very new person clarifies my philosophy on all kinds of things.  Environment should be stimulating (but not hectic), music must abound, and vocabulary may as well be precise and varied.  Why not? In this culture where a single profanity can serve as noun, adjective, or verb --oftentimes in the same sentence-- the world seems to be withering from lack of excellence in speech.
A few weeks ago, a new song was introduced in the morning worship service.  Frankly, I had heard it on the radio and dismissed the lyrics as trite, predictable and ...uninspired. 
But this was different.  Within the context of people proclaiming faith in the face of personal pain, trial and heartbreak, I heard something that flipped my heart upside down.  With faces lifted, the whole hungry hurting flock of us caught the rhythm of a battle march, a call to arms, a fight song.  And it wasn't about taking back a piece of geography, or carrying a banner, or even about going into the lions' den.  It called us to look up -- and trust.  With voices united we spurred each other on to rest in God's great love and care despite the most difficult of circumstances.
In the epistle to the Romans, the apostle claims that he is "persuaded that neither death nor life nor angels nor principalities, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth nor any other creature can ever separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord."
Those are beautiful words.  However, it is a rare day in which, "I am persuaded." 
Willing?  Yes. 
Wanting?  Yes.
But the magnitude is unfathomable to me.  Love, beyond comprehension, is powerfully holding on to me, in spite of the brokenness, "within and without"?   Eight nors in two verses seem to provide a hefty argument.  And perhaps that is the point.  The evidence is piled on in order to persuade.  Like a rousing fight song, our weakness and neediness is anticipated and provided for in this artfully crafted list of all the things that can't get between us and Love.

Perhaps the lyrics of the song aren't poetry.  But sometimes the most basic, stripped down vocabulary might serve best.  I took Greek from a teacher who claimed the Gospel of John was written so simply that we should be able to translate it after just two semesters of the ancient language.  He had lofty ambitions, but we did muddle through a good-sized portion.

"God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son..."
That's a rousing march, if ever I heard one.