Poison and Wine - The Civil Wars

I don’t consider myself a country music fan. So needless to say when I was first exposed to The Civil Wars I was doubtful this would be a group to which I would give much attention. However, despite my preconceived musical proclivities I found myself being drawn to them.
Again, I don’t know exactly what drew me to these artists. Perhaps its the way the lyrics are written which give nuance and subtlety to otherwise complicated issues, or the way the two artists’ voices mesh so effortlessly well, or the fact that this may my first slide down the slippery slope into being a country/folk music enthusiast.
Whatever the reason, I found myself immersed in The Civil War’s video Poison and Wine and found myself reflecting not only on a song about love between individuals but love between myself and Christ.
Much can be said for a well-executed paradox in music and literature. The Civil Wars (intentionally or unintentionally) speak to the heart of a Christian paradox throughout this song, the most recognizable being the refrain, “I don’t love you, but I always will”.
Our faith can sometimes seem to be a paradox at times: On one hand I realize I don’t love God as I should and, at times, even may appear as if I don’t love Him at all. On the other hand, I realize He is wonderful, generous, kind and beautiful and there is nothing that could ever separate, not only myself from His love, but also my love for Him.
As simplistic as this may seem, the song had me at the first lyrical exchange between the two artists: “You only know what I want you to/I know everything you don’t want me to”. I couldn’t help but hear exchange uttered between Christ and myself. God is the only One who can reveal anything about Himself who allows me know only the things He wants me to - be them good and bad - for my betterment. However, at the other end of the paradox, I know everything He doesn’t want me to know. In my short-sighted, rebellious actions we know all-too-well the consequences, the hurt and the pain, caused by our sin. Again, the paradox: God only reveals to us what He would want us to know, but yet due to our sin, we know things God would rather us ultimately not know.
We are in desperate need of healing and desperate need of discipline. God’s mercy gives both; God, in His infinite love offers both from the same hand. I found it comforting when Joy Williams sings, “Your hand can heal, your hands can bruise” reminding me that God’s healing and his bruising and disciplining come from the same hand of love. I would be forever lost if I was simply allowed to make my own way without the gentle, but firm “bruising” hand of the Lord.
Perhaps the clearest paradox in the song is the realization “I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you.” Wherever we as individuals land on the spectrum of the issue of divine sovereignty, one of the things I believe we can fundamentally agree upon is the wonderful reality that somehow, someway God has drawn us to Himself, because of that it is no surprise that we would choose Him. It is wonderful to have a God who draws; wonderful that God opens our eyes to His glory and majesty. It is also wonderful to know that because of His mercy, his faithfulness I would desire to follow Him.
Much can be said for a well-executed paradox in music and literature and in life as well. May we be able to somehow tow the line of the paradox, “I don’t love you, but I always will” with the realization that we are moving closer and closer to “always will”.

Below is the referred video.

SK