Lately, I keep thinking about Bob Dylan and King David and the benefit of being ornery. Dylan's "Desolation Row" is a favorite song of mine. I get a kick out of the lines "Yes I received your letter yesterday about the time the doorknob broke. When you asked me what I was doing, was that some kind of joke? All these people that you mention, yes I know them, they're quite lame. I had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name."

Another of my favorite Dylan lines is, "I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes, and just for that one moment I could be you. I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes. You'd know what a drag it is to see you."

King David got so ornery in some of his psalms, wishing everything but good on his enemies, for years I puzzled about how a fellow so bent toward revenge and apparently lacking in forgiveness could be not only a big contributor to the Bible but could get himself referred to as a "man after God's own heart."

I'm neither brave nor ignorant enough to launch into an analysis of God's heart. I'll stick to what I know best, which is the process of writing. 

Philip Yancey's book Prayer got me to reassessing King David by pointing out that the man's excesses aren't meant to be taken as righteous but as honest frustrations of a fellow who has taken some major hits. I was reminded of this last weekend when Pastor Ed suggested that our prayers oughtn't be nice and respectful but real. If we're frustrated, be frustrated. If we're confused, be confused. Furious, go ahead, let it out. We all get those ways, and (I'll add) to pretend we don't is an attack upon everybody we're trying to fool.

I've long thought that if I built a church, I'd inscribe into the wall over the entrance, "No Bullshit." (Of course I'd be tempted to censor and make it "No BS" but since everybody would translate anyway, what's the point?)

As I'm in danger of skating off into tangents here, I'll return to Bob Dylan. Anybody who doesn't appreciate him as a lyricist either hasn't listened or has my sincere sympathy. But, he's not always good, either in a moral or an artistic sense. Sometimes he's downright mean, sometimes he's brokenhearted, sometimes world weary, sometimes flippant, sometimes smitten. He writes insightful commentaries, ho hum ballads, sappy love songs. 

My point is, he's real, and maybe his willingness to be real is a essential part of his gift, and a key to his mastery.  And maybe, like King David (I'm asking for trouble here),  he's a man after God's own heart, at least when declining to censor his emotions.