Almost

"Almost" is one of those songs that made me laugh a little while writing it, mainly because it exposed me so badly.

The whole idea came from that line: procrastination is the arrogant assumption that God owes me another opportunity to do what I already had time and opportunity to do. That line hit me right in the ribs. Because I can dress procrastination up pretty well. I can make it sound responsible. I can make it sound like timing. I can make it sound like discernment. I can even make it sound spiritual if I'm really trying to fool myself.

And that's what this song is really about.

It's about the way I can spend half a day preparing to do something instead of doing the thing. Rewriting the list. Thinking about the call. Cleaning some random drawer that has apparently become the most urgent drawer in human history. Suddenly I'm organizing paper clips like my eternal salvation depends on office supplies, when the real thing I'm avoiding is sitting right there, looking at me.

That's the funny part.

The serious part is that I know better.

I know when God has already put something in my heart. I know when the Spirit has already pressed something on me. I know when I need to apologize, make the call, start the work, put the phone down, stop hiding, or finally step into whatever I keep circling. Most of the time, I am not confused. I just want the comfort of delay without the guilt of disobedience.

That is a brutal little mirror.

"Almost" became the word for that whole pattern. Almost got up. Almost changed. Almost did what I said I'd do. It sounds harmless at first. It even sounds close to progress. But almost is dangerous because it gives you just enough motion to feel innocent while you stay in the same place.

That's where the song gets personal for me.

I don't think God is sitting there furious because I didn't complete some perfect productivity checklist. I think He is inviting me to stop wasting the actual life He keeps handing me. The life in front of me. The people in front of me. The work in front of me. The small act of courage I keep treating like it's a mountain.

That's why I didn't want this song to sound like a cheesy motivational poster or some Christian TV opening theme from 1994 where everybody is smiling way too hard in khakis. This needed to feel human. It needed a groove. It needed a little humor. It needed that uncomfortable feeling of realizing the song is kind of fun, and then suddenly it's calling you out.

Because that's how conviction usually works for me. It doesn't always show up with thunder. Sometimes it shows up while I'm avoiding something obvious and God quietly lets me hear my own excuse out loud. And once I hear it, I can't unhear it.

This song is my way of saying I'm tired of being impressed with my own almost.

I don't want to almost be faithful. I don't want to almost be present. I don't want to almost be obedient. I don't want to keep asking God for new chances while casually stepping over the one He gave me this morning.

"Almost" is funny because it is painfully familiar.

It is honest because I am guilty.

And it is hopeful because the moment I stop making peace with almost, I can actually move.