Okay, this is kind of dumb I realize, but at the same time, in quiet moments staring at the ceiling this is what leaves me unsettled:
I was a pretty smart little kid, read a lot of books and was sharp at math, whole nine yards. About third grade I got wind of the rumor that there is no Santa Claus. And the funny part was, I denied it. I knew there was a Santa. And even if I didn't KNOW know, I still had the vocal, stubborn part of me violently overpower the still small voice of truth deep inside and convince myself that Santa is real. I even would refute third grade classmates who tried to say there was no Santa. I had a couple theories of how he could probably deliver to all of the USA in one night, since there were other similar Santa figures for Mexico and Norway and other cultures that we learned about, the work was divided up among them all. One assignment of making a Chirstmas picture book, I made almost a propaganda pamphlet describing in detail the credibility of Santa Claus.
A while later, my dad sat down my sister and I and spilled the beans. There is no Santa. This didn't make me mad or anything, I feel like it really just freed me up, let the inner voice of truth out of the cramped locked box I had put him in.
To a certain degree, I feel like this was something of a seedbed for the gift of faith that has shown up at certain points in my life. If I have the faith to hold steadfast to Santa, I pray that I steadfastly hold to Jesus exponentially more. But in other ways, I think there might be something unhealthy to it all...
Are there other things my inner voice of truth clearly knows that my vocal and stubborn side keeps locked up?
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Mover of Men and Mountains
I guess one of the only things that consistantly pulls me back to this blog is reading books. Other stuff happens too fast to write down, and books happen slow and then disappear. Better write them down.
Okay, the latest: R. G. LeTourneau's autobiography, Mover of Men and Mountains. Haven't heard of LeTourneau? Bummer. Ever heard of the bulldozer? Haha, that's right, the bulldozer. That's just one of the 300 patents that LeTourneau owns. This guy was NUTS.
Wait, I skipped a little too far ahead. Since LeTourneau is probably one of the most influencial and amazing people that you've never heard of, I'll try and give you the 1 blog post summary of the book:
Boy from the middle of nowhere drops out of school and becomes a mechanic. This is early 1900s, so there were only like three different kinds of cars for him to work on. Somehow he takes his welder from repairing cars to building things. Machines and earthmovers. Finds the Lord, too, supporting missionaries in China. Gets a little contracting business going. Then the general rhythm is this: he gets a bit contracting job to do, he falls way behind and has no idea how he's going to complete it, he starts praying harder, then he invents a new machine or earth mover or something and BANG! the Lord provides and he gets the job done. It's remarkable. Along the way he decided that his startup business would be a partnership--10% himself and 90% God. This was reflected all the way to the finances, where he created a charitable foundation to put 90% of the profits. Praise Jesus... ! He also had a Biblically-based magazine that he published and distributed to all the workers in his factories and job sites, with set aside prayer times.
I mentioned the bulldozer, that was probably his invention that is most easily recognized. Get this: the first design was the front pushing blade mounted on a MULE. That's right, a mule. It was hard to even place this book, imagining a world with motor-engines just beginning to break through the surface. Eventually, of course, he invented a diesel prime-mover that could push the blade instead of the four legged hooved animal.
The last part of LeTourneau's legacy that I gotta mention: towns in Liberia and Peru that are NAMED AFTER HIM when he came through with his earth movers and cleared out some jungle and improved the quality of living for the area. Now, the somewhat liberally minded part of me raises an eyebrow at sending a "jungle-smashing spiky steamroller" into the jungle to speed up deforestation, not to mention the cultural insensitivity to "colonize" that part of Peru, calling it Tourna-vista. His heart was in the right spot. LeTourneau University in Texas also bears his legacy, and a guy I know here at Iowa State is headed there next fall for school.
Thank you, Lord, for men like LeTourneau who whole-heartedly serve you from the marketplace and from the job site. Thank you for the mark he has left on the world and the way that you have used his life and his ministry to change so many lives. May you raise up more LeTourneau's in our day.
Okay, the latest: R. G. LeTourneau's autobiography, Mover of Men and Mountains. Haven't heard of LeTourneau? Bummer. Ever heard of the bulldozer? Haha, that's right, the bulldozer. That's just one of the 300 patents that LeTourneau owns. This guy was NUTS.
Wait, I skipped a little too far ahead. Since LeTourneau is probably one of the most influencial and amazing people that you've never heard of, I'll try and give you the 1 blog post summary of the book:
Boy from the middle of nowhere drops out of school and becomes a mechanic. This is early 1900s, so there were only like three different kinds of cars for him to work on. Somehow he takes his welder from repairing cars to building things. Machines and earthmovers. Finds the Lord, too, supporting missionaries in China. Gets a little contracting business going. Then the general rhythm is this: he gets a bit contracting job to do, he falls way behind and has no idea how he's going to complete it, he starts praying harder, then he invents a new machine or earth mover or something and BANG! the Lord provides and he gets the job done. It's remarkable. Along the way he decided that his startup business would be a partnership--10% himself and 90% God. This was reflected all the way to the finances, where he created a charitable foundation to put 90% of the profits. Praise Jesus... ! He also had a Biblically-based magazine that he published and distributed to all the workers in his factories and job sites, with set aside prayer times.
I mentioned the bulldozer, that was probably his invention that is most easily recognized. Get this: the first design was the front pushing blade mounted on a MULE. That's right, a mule. It was hard to even place this book, imagining a world with motor-engines just beginning to break through the surface. Eventually, of course, he invented a diesel prime-mover that could push the blade instead of the four legged hooved animal.
The last part of LeTourneau's legacy that I gotta mention: towns in Liberia and Peru that are NAMED AFTER HIM when he came through with his earth movers and cleared out some jungle and improved the quality of living for the area. Now, the somewhat liberally minded part of me raises an eyebrow at sending a "jungle-smashing spiky steamroller" into the jungle to speed up deforestation, not to mention the cultural insensitivity to "colonize" that part of Peru, calling it Tourna-vista. His heart was in the right spot. LeTourneau University in Texas also bears his legacy, and a guy I know here at Iowa State is headed there next fall for school.
Thank you, Lord, for men like LeTourneau who whole-heartedly serve you from the marketplace and from the job site. Thank you for the mark he has left on the world and the way that you have used his life and his ministry to change so many lives. May you raise up more LeTourneau's in our day.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
God is a verb
I've been reading The Shack, just like every other good christian out there. Okay, except the christians who like Mark Driscoll, because he says the book is a heresy known as modalism. People have been pretty divided and extreme on this book, some saying this is our generation's Pilgrim's Progress, others saying that you shouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. As is the case many times when both sides are saying that, neither extreme case is right. The book is decent. Has some teachable moments. Isn't going to reshape a generation and bring revival to all those who read it, touch it, or are breathed on by someone who read it or touched it.
I'll make a comment here, but I won't ruin the premise of the book for you, you might as well give it a read since there's been some hub-bub. I've been reading it slow, it's about the 4th book on my list right now. That means I have a bookmark in 3 others that are better, and only if I'm in a dry part in those will I actually reach for The Shack. But it's a decent read.
All that being said, last night I finally got to the part that was worth the price of the book altogether. Wanna hear it?
GOD is a VERB.
I AM.
I was and I am and I will be.
I am the way, the truth, and the life.
I am LOVE.
It's all over Scripture. God is a verb. I'm still digesting that comment, but it's so true and applicable that I'm blurting it out.
I'm thinking about the creation story, and how God started with light.
Light is a verb too, I think. A wave, anyway.
And when God did make nouns, lots of nouns, they still needed the verb, the action, the GOD that flows through them and in them. And so the stars dance and the sun spins and the moon orbits. They all have that verb flowing through them, that God-ness in them, His Fingerprints.
Another place it shows up: in ancient Hebrew, the words for work and for worship were basically one and the same. Enter into His presence and lift up His Name by doing, moving, singing, clapping. And go out and keep his name glorious by doing something useful with your hands
Okay, enough abstraction for now. I need to go be an imitator of God and verb some myself.
I'll make a comment here, but I won't ruin the premise of the book for you, you might as well give it a read since there's been some hub-bub. I've been reading it slow, it's about the 4th book on my list right now. That means I have a bookmark in 3 others that are better, and only if I'm in a dry part in those will I actually reach for The Shack. But it's a decent read.
All that being said, last night I finally got to the part that was worth the price of the book altogether. Wanna hear it?
GOD is a VERB.
I AM.
I was and I am and I will be.
I am the way, the truth, and the life.
I am LOVE.
It's all over Scripture. God is a verb. I'm still digesting that comment, but it's so true and applicable that I'm blurting it out.
I'm thinking about the creation story, and how God started with light.
Light is a verb too, I think. A wave, anyway.
And when God did make nouns, lots of nouns, they still needed the verb, the action, the GOD that flows through them and in them. And so the stars dance and the sun spins and the moon orbits. They all have that verb flowing through them, that God-ness in them, His Fingerprints.
Another place it shows up: in ancient Hebrew, the words for work and for worship were basically one and the same. Enter into His presence and lift up His Name by doing, moving, singing, clapping. And go out and keep his name glorious by doing something useful with your hands
Okay, enough abstraction for now. I need to go be an imitator of God and verb some myself.
Friday, January 2, 2009
I like fire
Happy New Year to everyone out there. I of course spent my whole New Year's Day watching football, eating sloppy joes and tostitos, and hanging out with Scott and my dad in front of the tube. Didn't get out of my sweats all day. That's supposed to be the perfect day, right?
Well I think January 2nd has been the best day of the year, actually. My uncle Bill has two wood burning stoves, which needed refilling. So, with the perfect winter day weather, Bill drove his brown and tan '84 Chevy over behind our house and brought his chainsaw. Kyle, my Dad, Bill, and I dove into clearing the downed trees that were still all over our treeline from *ahem* July. There were several huge trees. The nostalgic, somber part was several huge tree branches that had collapsed the roof of our tree house. Before anyone could pause and get sentimental, my dad is standing on top of the shaky, half-destroyed structure with his chainsaw revved up all the way. He turns 49 in less than two weeks, and still it's his 18 and 23 year old sons down below yelling cautious things. Oh Dad, what a guy.
I didn't get to do a lot of chainsawing, but it was still fulfilling to drag all those smaller branches down to our burn pile. It was huge. I had an incident with a leaf pile down there over Thanksgiving break that got a little out of hand, so I was hesitant in how to get the huge pile of lumber started; I didn't want another panic moment that came with the towering inferno of leaves. Curiously, the fire actually kept going out. The branches were stacked wrong or something. We had little fires brightly running off of the leaves three or four times, each failing in turn. Kyle and I finally went boy scout style and started our own fire, separate of the pile without lighter fluid (because we ran out on the first four attempts, not because we're consciencious granola eaters). With careful tending, it grew into a steady flame, and then a comsuming fire.
I had the pleasure of tending the fire all afternoon. We had Bill's truckbed filled past capacity soon after lunch, and Dad went in to work to do paperwork, and Kyle helped me get the fire going but then sauntered off. I could have left too, but nah. The fire was mine. All afternoon. For the next few hours, I fed the fire, watched the flames dance, contemplate the next few months, talked with God, and even sang a little. Aren't fires mesmerizing? I figured that if I could spend a whole day watching a flickering box project little men run around with a ball, I could spend this day staring at a fire, surrounded by a beautiful winter day until the sun lowerd to light it's own slow fire in the sky.
One spiritual moment from that time that I'd like to share: there was some greener wood in the pile that kept curling up as it burned. It reminded me of the verse from the familiar Psalm, #23: "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Meditating on that verse for awhile actually became a little unsettling--as a sheep, wouldn't I somewhat fear the rod and the staff? That curl on the staff is going to grab me if I am off the path, or goofing off. And hopefully the rod is for predators, but it probably should be used on me too if I'm needing of discipline. *Gulp* I suppose all those who are In Christ are grateful for the staff that one time, when we were the 1 and He left the 99 and pulled us out of the ravine or out of the stream or whatever ridiculous situations our sins had us in. Salvation, praise God. But after that, He can put down the rod and staff, right? I mean, we're friends of God now. No need bruising any sheep....
Acutally, yes, there is a need at times to bruise a sheep. I'm realizing that while I have been meditating on the Love of God a lot and coming to deeper understanding there, I maybe have had tunnel vision. There are other aspects to His care for us that are just as essential. Maybe not as cushy. But just as necessary for our growth and becoming more like Jesus. Hebrews 12 will tell you that God disciplines us because we're sons, and it's a beautiful thing. The Lord knows I need more discipline in my life. Not my strong suit. I'm good at being led by His Spirit and just going with the flow, but it's so true that God works through structure and planning and routine, too. More often in the Bible it's called faithfulness, perseverence, and administration.
Come Lord, with Your rod and Your staff. I want to feel your comfort in that way. Help me to become a more rounded individual and a better steward of the grace you've poured out in my life. And thank you for FIRE.
Bonus: My favorite song about fire today:
Well I think January 2nd has been the best day of the year, actually. My uncle Bill has two wood burning stoves, which needed refilling. So, with the perfect winter day weather, Bill drove his brown and tan '84 Chevy over behind our house and brought his chainsaw. Kyle, my Dad, Bill, and I dove into clearing the downed trees that were still all over our treeline from *ahem* July. There were several huge trees. The nostalgic, somber part was several huge tree branches that had collapsed the roof of our tree house. Before anyone could pause and get sentimental, my dad is standing on top of the shaky, half-destroyed structure with his chainsaw revved up all the way. He turns 49 in less than two weeks, and still it's his 18 and 23 year old sons down below yelling cautious things. Oh Dad, what a guy.
I didn't get to do a lot of chainsawing, but it was still fulfilling to drag all those smaller branches down to our burn pile. It was huge. I had an incident with a leaf pile down there over Thanksgiving break that got a little out of hand, so I was hesitant in how to get the huge pile of lumber started; I didn't want another panic moment that came with the towering inferno of leaves. Curiously, the fire actually kept going out. The branches were stacked wrong or something. We had little fires brightly running off of the leaves three or four times, each failing in turn. Kyle and I finally went boy scout style and started our own fire, separate of the pile without lighter fluid (because we ran out on the first four attempts, not because we're consciencious granola eaters). With careful tending, it grew into a steady flame, and then a comsuming fire.
I had the pleasure of tending the fire all afternoon. We had Bill's truckbed filled past capacity soon after lunch, and Dad went in to work to do paperwork, and Kyle helped me get the fire going but then sauntered off. I could have left too, but nah. The fire was mine. All afternoon. For the next few hours, I fed the fire, watched the flames dance, contemplate the next few months, talked with God, and even sang a little. Aren't fires mesmerizing? I figured that if I could spend a whole day watching a flickering box project little men run around with a ball, I could spend this day staring at a fire, surrounded by a beautiful winter day until the sun lowerd to light it's own slow fire in the sky.
One spiritual moment from that time that I'd like to share: there was some greener wood in the pile that kept curling up as it burned. It reminded me of the verse from the familiar Psalm, #23: "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Meditating on that verse for awhile actually became a little unsettling--as a sheep, wouldn't I somewhat fear the rod and the staff? That curl on the staff is going to grab me if I am off the path, or goofing off. And hopefully the rod is for predators, but it probably should be used on me too if I'm needing of discipline. *Gulp* I suppose all those who are In Christ are grateful for the staff that one time, when we were the 1 and He left the 99 and pulled us out of the ravine or out of the stream or whatever ridiculous situations our sins had us in. Salvation, praise God. But after that, He can put down the rod and staff, right? I mean, we're friends of God now. No need bruising any sheep....
Acutally, yes, there is a need at times to bruise a sheep. I'm realizing that while I have been meditating on the Love of God a lot and coming to deeper understanding there, I maybe have had tunnel vision. There are other aspects to His care for us that are just as essential. Maybe not as cushy. But just as necessary for our growth and becoming more like Jesus. Hebrews 12 will tell you that God disciplines us because we're sons, and it's a beautiful thing. The Lord knows I need more discipline in my life. Not my strong suit. I'm good at being led by His Spirit and just going with the flow, but it's so true that God works through structure and planning and routine, too. More often in the Bible it's called faithfulness, perseverence, and administration.
Come Lord, with Your rod and Your staff. I want to feel your comfort in that way. Help me to become a more rounded individual and a better steward of the grace you've poured out in my life. And thank you for FIRE.
Bonus: My favorite song about fire today:
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Finito
I have nothing left to do as an undergraduate student. It is complete.
It was actually somewhat unsatisfying, the last question on my last exam was a stumper so I didn't do that well on that part, but the rest of the exam I think I rocked it.
Lord, thank you for the blessing of education and for carrying me to the end. I love you Lord. May I be able to be a good steward of the gifts you give, and may this degree bless your name. I love You, Lord!
It was actually somewhat unsatisfying, the last question on my last exam was a stumper so I didn't do that well on that part, but the rest of the exam I think I rocked it.
Lord, thank you for the blessing of education and for carrying me to the end. I love you Lord. May I be able to be a good steward of the gifts you give, and may this degree bless your name. I love You, Lord!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Get 'em, Akeem
I have this friend from my days in Wallace Hall named Akeem. He's a tall, deep thinking guy, and he really loves the Lord. I don't really know how I met him, he works really hard on his schoolwork and kind of keeps to himself. Here's the thing that kind of sets Akeem apart: every Saturday, technically Friday sundown through Saturday sundown, he takes a Sabbath. A full on, do nothing but read the Bible, Jew-esque Sabbath. He said it's something his family started back in Davenport.
Akeem's obviously got strong convictions. He has his Jesus space, and he's willing to sacrifice for it. The thing that makes me scratch my head a little bit is that he isn't in any sort of Christian community. I'm kind of the only Christian he knows at Iowa State, which is kind of sad. I challenged him on this, partly because he would benefit from being plugged into the body, and largely because the body would greatly benefit from having him. But since I'm his only Christian brother here, I was the one that he called up to share his new conviction:
Share the word.
He said it was burning on him, that all his private study couldn't end there but needed to go forth. I said, yep. I'm in. We have had trouble meeting up because he doesn't have a cell phone, but we finally intersected on Tuesday afternoon. So we headed to the MU, not entirely sure what it would look like. We walked in, surveyed the food court for a moment, and then Akeem said simply said "let's go." Haha, he went.
"Hey you guys got a minute?" he boldly asked this table of three trendy looking guys who are finishing up their french fries. Not my first choice of people to share with, these guys seem really self assured and comfortable. But Akeem is on fire. The guys look up from the fries and are like, "yeah, sure, what's going on?" So Akeem just gives it to them. A full gospel presentation, talking for about 2 minutes about how Jesus was born 2000 years ago and died for their sins and rose again from the grave.
I'll admit, I was somewhat squirming. Akeem's style wasn't smooth or deft or pleasant. Not that it was unpleasant. It was just straightforward. Very straight. Very forward. His tone was really good, I gotta mention that. Not forceful, but confident that these words have power. His altar call at the end wasn't to pray a prayer or anything, but mostly to get plugged in to a ministry, Salt or Cru or something. Which is kind of ironic since he's never been to any of those ministries.
Of the three guys there was still one that looked like he was mostly listening. He said he used to teach confirmation class back home, and had been to Salt a couple times. The other guys said they were catholic, lutheran, something like that. Akeem told them they were on the right track, and then moved on to the next table.
More confession time, I felt really awkward. With Akeem's style, I didn't have to say anything, but I should probably look confident and receptive to what he's saying. And I'm not convinced I was giving a vibe of confidence or unity with his words. Lord, have mercy.
After a second table, I told Akeem I could better serve our team as the prayer support, since I wasn't really needed to say anything. Give the air support while he's the boots on the ground. He agreed. So I pulled out Isaiah 42 and journaled and prayed up and down that place, while Akeem kept going table to table with his 2-3 minute commercial for Jesus. It worked pretty well from there. I prayed through every verse of the chapter and then some. Akeem was soon out of sight around the corner. The moment I felt like I should end the prayer Akeem showed right back up, saying "that's all of it." I believed him.
What was most compelling about Akeem and his sharing style was that this guy has no fear of man whatsoever. And an obvious love for the word and for Christ. But seriously, he didn't care what people thought or if there was awkwardness. He marched right in and said his piece. Then marched on.
Now a brief snippet of what I would change. I won't say much because, well, he had the guts to do it. First, a more obvious love for the people. It sounded a little like a commercial. Second, a little more creativity. He was walking out 1 Corinthians 2:2 -- For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. Akeem's delivery just started with "Two thousand years ago Jesus came to the earth, both God and man." True. Just, not an instant audience connector. All in all though, I'm proud of my boy Akeem and compelled by his example. Hopefully I get up the guts one of these days to just ask for a table's attention and just preach the word.
Lord may you use the efforts of Akeem and I today to change hearts and impact lives. It's but a few loaves and a couple fish, but Lord you can multiply it. May you bless Akeem and give him true fellowship. May you make us into powerful witnesses for your Name.
Akeem's obviously got strong convictions. He has his Jesus space, and he's willing to sacrifice for it. The thing that makes me scratch my head a little bit is that he isn't in any sort of Christian community. I'm kind of the only Christian he knows at Iowa State, which is kind of sad. I challenged him on this, partly because he would benefit from being plugged into the body, and largely because the body would greatly benefit from having him. But since I'm his only Christian brother here, I was the one that he called up to share his new conviction:
Share the word.
He said it was burning on him, that all his private study couldn't end there but needed to go forth. I said, yep. I'm in. We have had trouble meeting up because he doesn't have a cell phone, but we finally intersected on Tuesday afternoon. So we headed to the MU, not entirely sure what it would look like. We walked in, surveyed the food court for a moment, and then Akeem said simply said "let's go." Haha, he went.
"Hey you guys got a minute?" he boldly asked this table of three trendy looking guys who are finishing up their french fries. Not my first choice of people to share with, these guys seem really self assured and comfortable. But Akeem is on fire. The guys look up from the fries and are like, "yeah, sure, what's going on?" So Akeem just gives it to them. A full gospel presentation, talking for about 2 minutes about how Jesus was born 2000 years ago and died for their sins and rose again from the grave.
I'll admit, I was somewhat squirming. Akeem's style wasn't smooth or deft or pleasant. Not that it was unpleasant. It was just straightforward. Very straight. Very forward. His tone was really good, I gotta mention that. Not forceful, but confident that these words have power. His altar call at the end wasn't to pray a prayer or anything, but mostly to get plugged in to a ministry, Salt or Cru or something. Which is kind of ironic since he's never been to any of those ministries.
Of the three guys there was still one that looked like he was mostly listening. He said he used to teach confirmation class back home, and had been to Salt a couple times. The other guys said they were catholic, lutheran, something like that. Akeem told them they were on the right track, and then moved on to the next table.
More confession time, I felt really awkward. With Akeem's style, I didn't have to say anything, but I should probably look confident and receptive to what he's saying. And I'm not convinced I was giving a vibe of confidence or unity with his words. Lord, have mercy.
After a second table, I told Akeem I could better serve our team as the prayer support, since I wasn't really needed to say anything. Give the air support while he's the boots on the ground. He agreed. So I pulled out Isaiah 42 and journaled and prayed up and down that place, while Akeem kept going table to table with his 2-3 minute commercial for Jesus. It worked pretty well from there. I prayed through every verse of the chapter and then some. Akeem was soon out of sight around the corner. The moment I felt like I should end the prayer Akeem showed right back up, saying "that's all of it." I believed him.
What was most compelling about Akeem and his sharing style was that this guy has no fear of man whatsoever. And an obvious love for the word and for Christ. But seriously, he didn't care what people thought or if there was awkwardness. He marched right in and said his piece. Then marched on.
Now a brief snippet of what I would change. I won't say much because, well, he had the guts to do it. First, a more obvious love for the people. It sounded a little like a commercial. Second, a little more creativity. He was walking out 1 Corinthians 2:2 -- For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. Akeem's delivery just started with "Two thousand years ago Jesus came to the earth, both God and man." True. Just, not an instant audience connector. All in all though, I'm proud of my boy Akeem and compelled by his example. Hopefully I get up the guts one of these days to just ask for a table's attention and just preach the word.
Lord may you use the efforts of Akeem and I today to change hearts and impact lives. It's but a few loaves and a couple fish, but Lord you can multiply it. May you bless Akeem and give him true fellowship. May you make us into powerful witnesses for your Name.
The best song ever for today
I'm something of a worship music connoisseur, always looking for new stuff. I never realized this until I went to India last summer and the rest of my travel companions didn't recognize any of the worship music CDs I brought. I dunno what it is, but I can just stay on the internet finding new worship music and new artists and listening to them for hours. Like Psalm 96 says, "Sing to the LORD a new song." Acutally that phrase or a slight variation of it is repeated 6 times in the Bible. Nifty!
Artist of the day: Brian and Jenn Johnson
Song: "A Little Longer"
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&friendID=90954097
Well, it says Brian and Jenn but technically it's just Jenn Johnson and her piano. So compelling. It starts somber enough, a minor key and and some wistful vocals. The beginning is okay I guess. But the part where my heart just melts before God is where she transitions, by saying "Then I hear you saying to me...". And the song reveals what it is that God has laid on her heart. Should it be any surprise that this is the most powerful and gripping part of the song?
I want this song to be a picture of my walk with God. You can just feel the intimacy with Him oozing from her voice and from the piano. She knows Him. And He knows her. And they love each other. It's so freeing, too, she doesn't define her walk by the straining or striving or what she does. "You don't have to do a thing, just simply be with me" is what Jesus whispers.
What a mystery it is to be your child, Lord. Help me not to find my identity in doing but in just being. Help me find the time and space to just clear distractions. I want to just be able to sit on Daddy's lap. Just a little longer.
Artist of the day: Brian and Jenn Johnson
Song: "A Little Longer"
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&friendID=90954097
Well, it says Brian and Jenn but technically it's just Jenn Johnson and her piano. So compelling. It starts somber enough, a minor key and and some wistful vocals. The beginning is okay I guess. But the part where my heart just melts before God is where she transitions, by saying "Then I hear you saying to me...". And the song reveals what it is that God has laid on her heart. Should it be any surprise that this is the most powerful and gripping part of the song?
I want this song to be a picture of my walk with God. You can just feel the intimacy with Him oozing from her voice and from the piano. She knows Him. And He knows her. And they love each other. It's so freeing, too, she doesn't define her walk by the straining or striving or what she does. "You don't have to do a thing, just simply be with me" is what Jesus whispers.
What a mystery it is to be your child, Lord. Help me not to find my identity in doing but in just being. Help me find the time and space to just clear distractions. I want to just be able to sit on Daddy's lap. Just a little longer.
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