Delusions
But here inside this prison cell
I keep remembering
My parole officer
Was the purtiest thing
And I still know your number by heart
Even though you no longer play a part
Well I don't know if it's love or if I'm smart
But I still know your number by heart - I Still Know Your Number By Heart, Chagall Guevara
I may try this more and more. I scored three rare songs by Chagall Guevara (Tole O' The Twister, Treasure of the Broken Land, and I Still Know Your Number By Heart) and I played them over and over on my way home from work and on my way back in. The lyrics above from ISKYNBH concern a prisoner that falls in love with his parole officer. He is so delusional that the efforts she made to just do her job were misconstrued and taken by said prisoner to be reciprocal affection. It's a great country song with some nice Dave Perkins guitar. But it disturbs me too.
What delusions do I hold onto? Are they concerning my rugged good looks and infectious personality (the women swoon after those) or the way I communicate Biblical truths to the people I minister with and to (an intensely interesting experience the vast majority of the time), or my perfecting role as a husband and father (well, not perfect but pretty dern good by cracky).
I want to rest in these delusions because they're easy to hold onto and make me feel good. Rather than resting in the salvation that God has granted me or the grace bank I borrow heavily from (and have no way of paying back) I would rather, in my flesh, hold onto these things. But they are so bankrupt and devoid of any reality or meaning. That's why those lyrics disturb me so.
I keep remembering
My parole officer
Was the purtiest thing
And I still know your number by heart
Even though you no longer play a part
Well I don't know if it's love or if I'm smart
But I still know your number by heart - I Still Know Your Number By Heart, Chagall Guevara
I may try this more and more. I scored three rare songs by Chagall Guevara (Tole O' The Twister, Treasure of the Broken Land, and I Still Know Your Number By Heart) and I played them over and over on my way home from work and on my way back in. The lyrics above from ISKYNBH concern a prisoner that falls in love with his parole officer. He is so delusional that the efforts she made to just do her job were misconstrued and taken by said prisoner to be reciprocal affection. It's a great country song with some nice Dave Perkins guitar. But it disturbs me too.
What delusions do I hold onto? Are they concerning my rugged good looks and infectious personality (the women swoon after those) or the way I communicate Biblical truths to the people I minister with and to (an intensely interesting experience the vast majority of the time), or my perfecting role as a husband and father (well, not perfect but pretty dern good by cracky).
I want to rest in these delusions because they're easy to hold onto and make me feel good. Rather than resting in the salvation that God has granted me or the grace bank I borrow heavily from (and have no way of paying back) I would rather, in my flesh, hold onto these things. But they are so bankrupt and devoid of any reality or meaning. That's why those lyrics disturb me so.
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