This is a piece I wrote back in 2010 but with the release of my latest book series and the urgency of the message the Lord has given me I thought it would “put steam in the boiler” as we move ahead.
After reading it again this morning I thought just how poignant the message is as we move into 2014 with all the trials and tribulations facing us. How important it is for the bride of Christ to rise from her slumber and be about the business of the Kingdom … the business of the King … waking up America!
Back in 1972, after his 1967 hit of Alice’s Restaurant, Arlo Guthrie recorded a song that has long been a favorite of mine. There is just something very melodic about it as it paints a vivid picture of life in America. I guess I’ve played that tune hundreds of times, and as a matter of fact I was just listening to it in the truck this morning when the Lord got my ear and asked me to listen a little closer.
He often gets through to me in the words of songs but not generally in the way you might think. He always shows me a new meaning to challenge my thinking, and you can rest assured that I never hear that song the same way again. And this morning was no different as I pulled into a parking place and just listened to what He had to say. The message was one I was not expecting.
Ridin’ on the City of New Orleans
Illinois Central, Monday mornin’ rail
15 cars and 15 restless riders
Three conductors and 25 sacks of mail
Days start the same and soon one becomes like another. America stirs and wakes to find yet one more step to take along the road she is following as one after another American sets forth on a new day.
All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee
Rolls along past houses, farms and fields
Passin’ graves that have no name, freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles
Life for most of America has become an odyssey, much like that of the Greek hero Odysseus — Ulysses, as he was known in Roman myths — and his long, arduous journey home following the fall of Troy. Life for America rolls past all of man’s efforts to make meaning of it. But all that’s left are graves that have no names, man struggling to make it through the day, and graveyards of all the things he has tried to use to fill his emptiness.
Good mornin’ America, how are you?
Don’t you know me, I’m your native son!
Every day He asks the same question and the emptiness of the answer fills volumes. He looks down at the empty and hopeless eyes and asks: Don’t you know me? I’m here every day with the answer to your deepest questions and yet you never stop to ask. Don’t you know me?
Dealin’ cards with the old men in the club car
Penny a point, ain’t no one keepin’ score
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
And feel the wheels rumblin’ neath the floor
Time slips by one day after another and man continues to drift farther and farther down the tracks into numbness. No matter what he tries to fill the void with the results are always the same. All he feels is deadness from his man made solutions and he slowly stops looking for the answers and just tries to hide from the storms — just feelin’ the wheels rumblin’ neath the floor.
And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers
Ride their father’s magic carpets made of steel
Mothers with their babes asleep, rockin’ to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.
Generation after generation has enjoyed the hard work of their fathers. Just moving through life one day after another, slowly riding through their journey, pretending all is well and seeking comfort wherever they can find it while hope slowly fades away.
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rail still ain’t heard the news
The conductor sings his songs again
The passengers will please refrain
This train has got the disappearin’ railroad blues
And all it seems that this life has to offer are the man made comforts which, like that train, haven’t heard the news that everything is passing away and will one day be but a cold memory.
Good night America, how are you?
Say don’t you know me? I’m your native son!
I’m the train they call the City of New Orleans.
I’ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done.
How sad that America, in the midst of all her trials and moral crisis, like the City of New Orleans, is slowly headed down to the sea. How interesting that the number 5 in the Bible stands for completeness — I’ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done. The truth is that America, along with the rest of the world, is slowly nearing the end of her journey as each day brings her closer to the return of “The Son.” Perhaps she doesn’t hear the question because she’s forgotten who’s been asking it from the beginning. Then again maybe the years of her Southbound Odyssey are the result no one telling her who has the answer.
Have we bothered to tell her that someone really wants to know how she is? Have we allowed ourselves to only feel the Rhythm of the Rails and slowly be dragged into her Bad Dream? America needs to know that she has a native Son who understands her and is deeply concerned about her. He asks that question every morning and will continue to do so until the last mile is run.
Let’s not fail to let her know that there is hope in the midst of all this chaos; eternal hope.
Night time on the City of New Orleans
Changin’ cars in Memphis, Tennessee
Halfway home, we’ll be there by mornin’
Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin’ down to the sea.
As the bride of Christ, let’s not fail to shake America awake because our bridegroom truly wants us to know how America is. Time is short and Jesus is telling us that very soon… I’ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done.
If we don’t wake her, who will?
Here is the original City of New Orleans if you want to hear it and I’ll bet you’ll never hear it the same again … and you won’t see Arlo with dark hair anymore …