Descend upon my heart

The music we sing at my church is hip and cool.  It's at the forefront of the worship music scene.  It's loud, and different, and people respond to it.  I love it!  

I also attend a weekly Bible study (BSF) where we do things a little more traditionally.  Every week we bust out those old red hymnals and sing along with words written hundreds of years ago.  

I love the contrast of the two groups for more than just the differences in music.  Maybe I'll tell you about that sometime.

Tonight at BSF, we sang a song called Spirit of God, Descend Upon My Heart.  It was written by George Croley in 1867.  Here is the fourth verse of that hymn:

Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh

Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear

To check the rising doubt, the restless sigh

Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer

Seriously... Who asks for God to teach them patience through unanswered prayer?  That is crazy talk! But that verse jumped out and smacked me in the face because I've been spending a lot of my time in prayer lately asking God "what the HECK are you doing?!?"  I've been dealing with some hard things lately, and I don't anticipate them going away any time soon.  How might those trials be lifted if I were to learn to bear the struggles of the soul?  And how does one learn to do that?? What does that even mean???  The answer is there in the title / first verse of the song.  Spirit of God, descend upon my heart.  The rational part of my brain can identify when I'm acting like a crazy person.  I know when I'm without the Spirit, and acting on my own self centered fears.  And I've experienced moments - brief though they may be - when I rely on the Spirit and can respond out of that reality instead of my broken self. 

I guess all I can do is keep going, and thank God for those moments when his Spirit is in me, and pray that he continues to descend upon my heart.

I Surrender All

All to Jesus I surrender

Humbly at his feet I bow

Worldly pleasures all forsaken

Take me Jesus, take me now

I surrender all

I surrender all

All to thee my blessed Savior

I surrender all

We sang this in church today: an old-school hymn that my college students (and who knows how many other people in the congregation at my rather modern church) had never heard before. It's a great, classic song with powerful lyrics, as many of the classic hymns have. But as we were singing, I had a terrible realization: I don't surrender. And it wasn't one of those terrible/good realizations that causes us to cry out to Jesus and come closer to him -- oh, no. I was annoyed! I haven't surrendered all recently, I don't want to, and I would rather you not bring it up, thank you very much! I hate it when Jesus calls me out.

All these thoughts were flitting across my brain while we were singing, and I just kept singing because I love singing. But then I decided something: I have to keep singing. No matter where my heart is, I will keep singing. I'm not surrendering to Jesus, but I know I should, and deep down in my heart I want to surrender, so I will keep singing. I'll keep singing 'til it's true.

Music makes me cry sometimes

On my way home from work a few days ago, I heard Phil Wickham's song "Divine Romance." It's on one of my current favorite mix cd's, and it is absolutely beautiful. Despite my familiarity with songs, I can be powerfully affected by a particular one multiple times, depending on my mood and the atmosphere. I'll be honest -- I've cried listening to "Divine Romance" before. Most often, when I am emotionally moved by music, I am worshipping. But the other day, I realized that I was crying because none of the words I was singing were true. I cried because my prayers were not full, rich, or bright, and neither was my life. I cried for everything lacking in my life, and everything I wished that I was.

I suppose in some sense, my tears that day were worship. Only in our emptiness do we realize how much we need filled.

The fullness of your grace is here with me

The richness of your beauty's all I see

The brightness of your glory has arrived

In your presence God, I'm completely satisfied

I'm Incapable

Last week's youth conference was a mixed bag of emotions for me.  The conference was amazing:  well planned timing, a wide variety of activities, the right amount of scheduled and unscheduled time, broad musical tastes, a very spiritual emphasis, etc.  For at least a couple months, I had been feeling very depressed and out of touch with God, and CHIC was a great catalyst to bringing me back into his presence.  But, as any youth leader will tell you, conferences are incredibly draining, physically and emotionally.

I was the only leader for 8 high school girls, six of whom were members of the church.  It's kind of an expensive conference, but it's also only every 3 years, so it gives churches a chance to do lots of fundraising.  The church paid for almost all of the girls (and my) fees.  Because of this, I felt a lot of pressure to make sure that the girls "got" something out of CHIC.  It's a really fun event, but it's also designed to be a deep event.  Naturally, a high school kid's first inclination is to just focus on the fun part and brush over the rest of it.

The first night of mainstage worship, half of the girls remained seated the entire time, even though the 5,000 other people in the auditorium were on their feet with their hands raised in praise.  I was really offended by this, and afraid that it was a sign of what the rest of the week had in store.  Regardless of the pressure I felt from the church, as the girls' youth leader, I wanted to make sure that they "got" it, too!  I said something to them later, about engaging the real reason why CHIC existed -- to bring them closer to God.  The rest of the week, I kept emphasizing that they needed to engage in the seminars and speakers so that God could speak to them.  But the second night of worship, I had a realization.  Even if I forced them to their feet, made them raise their hands in praise and bend their knees in prayer, if I made them answer questions after every seminar and write down what they learned, they still might not learn anything from the experience.  Despite my best efforts, it was still possible that they would leave CHIC thinking about the fun they had and the cute boys they met.  The only person who had any influence over what they "got" out of the conference was God.  It was out of my hands.

After we got home, the Sunday morning church service was devoted to us sharing with the congregation about CHIC.  All the girls were to share at least a little bit about what they had experienced.  I was pretty apprehensive -- I had only spoken with one of the girls about what she had experienced with God during the week.  The rest of them were wildcards.  

Thankfully, naturally, God had been working while I was worrying.  All 8 girls shared some great things about what they had enjoyed and what they had experienced at CHIC -- everything from awareness about human trafficking to a new sense of identity and purpose in God.  Had I two months to prepare, I could not have given a better speech than they did.  Afterwards, one of the parents complimented me on how the service had gone.  I answered, "I had nothing to do with it.  It was all God."  

I heard these words from a Caedmon's Call song a few days after we got back:

I'm so thankful that I'm incapable

of doing any good on my own

Amen.

Tension is a passing note...

I've been depressed lately.

There.  I said it.  Now it's out there for (theoretically) the whole world to see.  No longer is it just an excuse in my head or a word I fling at my roommate while I am in tears because of some miniscule thing she did wrong.

I'm not exactly sure how I got into this hole, and I am clueless about how to climb out.  I just keep looking up towards the sky.  Sometimes it's beautiful and blue, and I stare at it with longing.  Sometimes it's cloudy and gray, and I'm happy to wallow in my inexplicable sorrow.  I can never tell if the top of the hole is getting closer, or if I just keep sinking down farther.  When I try to grasp for the rope to pull myself out, I can never find it.  I am alone.

I heard this song by Sixpence None the Richer tonight while shuffling through my iPod.

Do I murder when I forget you from afar?

Too drunk on the poison of endless roads and the countless smoky bars.

But tension is to be loved when it is like a passing note

To a beautiful, beautiful chord.

Then, this song by Matt Wertz came on right after.

I will not take my love away

When praises cease and seasons change

And the whole world turns the other way

I will not take my love away

I will not leave you all alone

When striving leads you far from home

And there's no yield for what you've sown

I will not leave you all alone

I will give you what you need

In plenty or in poverty

Forever, always look to me

I will give you what you need

I'm trying to remember -- this will pass, and God will keep his promises.

(I have a video I took of Matt singing this song at a concert in February but YouTube is down for maintenance right now -- I'll try to upload it tomorrow.)

Indiana for Christmas

In a few days, I will be heading home for Christmas. I can't tell you how excited I am! Well, I could tell you, but it would be several lines full of reeeally, reeeally, reeeally... excited. :) In my opinion, southern Indiana is the perfect place to be for Christmas. I may be a little biased, though...

I was listening to a new Christmas cd the other day, and a new song caught my ear. I don't know who wrote it, but the version I was listening to was performed by Straight No Chaser, an acapella group from Indiana University. It's called Indiana Christmas, and I know it's overly sentimental, but "that's where I'm going, where Christmas will always be real."

The moonlight shines on the sycamores
Now they are calling to me
In the city it's snowing, the sidewalks glowing
But there's somewhere I'd rather be

Thousands of people all walking by
Somehow I'm still alone
I'm gonna spend winter my way
Get on the highway
I'm ready to find the way home

Indiana
That's where I'm going
This time of year
You know how I feel
Indiana
That's where I'm going
Where Christmas will always be real

We'll build up a fire, tell a story or two
With good friends we always invite
The old and young come together as one
And we sing into the night

Indiana
That's where I'm going
This time of year
You know how I feel
Indiana
That's where I'm going
Where Christmas will always be real

And I remember those who are gone
Looking down on my home from above
Deep in December it's where I belong
Sharing the days with the ones who i love

Indiana
Indiana

Where Christmas will always be real

The moonlight shines on the sycamores
And now they are calling to me

I Need You

Last night at the college fellowship group I help run, we talked about music. I love music! I love singing it and playing it and listening to it. Since becoming friends and then roommates with Elizabeth, my musical repertoire has gotten vastly larger. Whereas my musical roots are mostly contemporary Christian and country, hers are heavy metal, rap, and of course 80s. She has opened me up to a lot of things that I would not have listened to in the past, and hopefully that is a two-way street. Some of it I like a lot, and some of it I can tolerate.
Our main goal last night at Nine.Thirty.Seven. was to give students a taste of the wide variety of Christian music styles there are nowadays. We weren't trying to say that they ought to be listening only to Christian music, but just to give them some options that would be more positive and uplifting than much of the music on the radio today. It can be said of any era that some of the music is really bad, and some is really good! The thing that worries me is how little we think about the music we listen to. Several months ago, John Mayer had a song out called "Waiting on the World to Change." I really like John Mayer's musical style, and initially I really liked that song. But the more I listened to it, the more I felt unsettled. The premise of the song is that the state of the world is very poor, and we would like it to be different, but things are out of our control and so we just have to wait for it to change. This is ridiculous! And it typeifies an American attitude of today, that we should just whine and complain about things being horrible instead of actually doing something about it.
Another song that I've been thinking about recently is called "Famous Last Words" by My Chemical Romance. It's a good song, generally positive and not derogatory, and for a while it was my roommate's ringtone. It is catchy and singable and upbeat. But there's something off about it. The first part of the chorus goes like this:

I am not afraid to keep on living
I am not afraid to walk this world alone

One part of me really identifies with those lines. I am a very independent person, and I have been from an early age. (Heading out for the bus on my second day of kindergarten, I firmly stated, "I can do it myself, Mom!") I am fairly self-sufficient, and I get a little annoyed when people try to tell me that I can't do things, particularly if it has to do with me being a woman. I take pride in the fact that I know how to do lots of things.
At the same time, though, something about those lines unsettles me. Putting aside my pride in independence, the fact is that I am afraid to walk this world alone. From the beginning of time, human beings were created to be in relationship with one another, and I am not exempt from any of this. I need other people to help me learn things, to keep me accountable, to make me laugh, to tell me when I'm wrong or affirm me when I'm right. The fact is... I need you.
So the next time you hear a song on the radio, take a few moments to think about it. Is it right? Is it wrong? Why? Why not? A little bit of critical thinking has never hurt anybody.

You've Got Something To Say

My roommate bought the new Matthew West CD. He's a pretty cool dude, and has a great way with words. His latest project is called Something to Say, and this is an idea that I love. I do believe we've all got something to say, because, as Matthew says in the song, "God is love and love speaks through you." I've been watching and discussing Rob Bell's Nooma videos a lot, in my Bible study and campus ministry stuff, and last night we watched the Rhythm video, where Rob talks about God through the metaphor of song. We play a song with our lives, and the question is whether or not we are in tune with God's song. Like Matthew also says, "No one can say it quite like you do."

I've done talks and discussions before on this theme, and it brings to mind another Nooma I watched at Bible study last week. God has created us good, and though we have been corrupted by the Fall and have sinful human natures, I believe we are also inherently good. We believe in the power of Jesus, and he believes in us! Think about who he used to accomplish his work in the first century -- the disciples, the B-team benchwarmers. They changed the world! (From "Dust".)

Here are the lyrics to that song. Enjoy! ~'til next time...

But the whole wide world is waiting for you to step out that door
Come on and let your life be heard today
You've got something to say
If you're living
If you're breathing
You've got something to say
You know if your heart is beating
You've got something to say
And no one can say it like you do
God is love and love speaks through you
You got it, you got it
You've got something to say
Listen up I've got a question here
Would anybody miss you if you disappeared?
Your life is the song that you sing
And the whole wide world is listening
Well the answer to the question is you were created
Your life is a gift
And the lights are shining on you today
You've got something to say

Tell me what you know...

My newest favorite musician is a woman named Sara Groves, who has actually been putting out CDs for many years. I discovered her, thanks to the Relevant Podcast, and have fallen in love with the way she interprets the world.

If you think about it, we are all doing this, every single day - in every action we do, we are interpreting the world around us. Some are able to do it through music, some through art, some with words... It is an absolutely essential part of our human nature. Every day we are figuring out how and why we exist in the world, and what our relationship is to the world. How do you interpret it?

With her music, Sara Groves makes beautiful connections to our humanity and God's nature. She tells stories and celebrates people. Music moves me, and some days I wish I had the gift of songwriting. But for now, I will have to simply enjoy the work of others. This is the chorus from my current favorite Sara Groves song, off the CD of the same name (Tell Me What You Know).


Tell me what you know
About God and the world and the human soul
How so much can go wrong
And still there are songs...


I thank the Lord in Heaven that I will always have a song to sing. I praise Him because we will always have songs to sing, despite the presence of so much pain and evil in the world. Through the darkness and desperation, there is hope. People are good. God is just. The world is beautiful. And I will keep on singing.

Tell me what you know...

Burn Us Up

I have a confession: I love the Old Testament.



Of course I love the New Testament as well. In fact, I love the whole Bible. I love the whole-ness of the Bible, and the fact that the Old Testament and the New Testament are so closely interwoven if you only take the time to look for it.

But I love the Old Testament.


Without any quotable facts for you, I'm going to make an exaggerated guess and say that the majority of people who attend church weekly don't know the Old Testament well, let alone even like the Old Testament. And I understand where they're coming from. I mean, lets face it: there are entire books dedicated to documenting laws and listing names and numbers of the Israelite tribes. I don't know anyone who can sit down and read a book of poetry straight through (Psalms) and judging by the prophets, the people God calls to do his work are downright weird! The Old Testament is an interesting collection. And I love it.

I love the stories. You can find absolutely any kind of story in the Old Testament. Romance? Check. War? Check. Drama? Check. Action? Check. Weird obscure non-classifiable genre? Check. (Ever heard the story about Elijah calling out bears to attack the kids who made fun of his baldness?) To give the briefest summary of the Old Testament, it is the story of God's chosen people and their journey with him. It is the classic "rollercoaster" of belief and unbelief, faithfulness and idolatry. In short, the Old Testament is my story. And your story. And the story of every person who has ever followed the difficult call of God.

That is not a full enough description of why exactly I love the Old Testament. But for now, I think it's been established that I do indeed love it. And along with loving it, I get extremely excited when I find other people who enjoy it as much as I do. For instance... Shane & Shane. I attended a concert Sunday evening, which of course was wonderful. But one of the new songs on their "Pages" CD is called "Burn Us Up," basically a retelling of the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace. Without using any of their ridiculous names, they communicate the real meaning behind that story, and the meaning for us today. Go listen to the song. Go read the book of Daniel. And while you're at it, why not the rest of the Old Testament?

"Burn Us Up" Shane & Shane

There were three
Before the king
There were three who wouldn’t bow to him
For when you heard
The music play
And you were standing you would burn.
They looked at him and said…

Burn us up! Burn us up! Burn us up!
Oh king won’t you burn us in the furnace of your desire
We give up! We give up! We give up!
Oh king won’t you burn us in the furnace of your desire!
Won’t you throw us in the fire!

The king enraged
At what they said
Sent the three away to find their death
The palace stopped in unbelief
When the guilty raised their hands to sing
They looked at him and said…

Burn us up! Burn us up! Burn us up!
Oh king won’t You burn us in the furnace of Your desire
We give up! We give up! We give up!
Oh king won’t You burn us in the furnace of Your desire!
Won’t You throw us in the fire!

You are able to deliver from the fire of affliction
It’s the declaration of my Lord
You’re not an image of gold
You’re the God of old
You have made us
Come and save us
We are Yours
But even if You don’t, we will burn!

Burn us up! Burn us up! Burn us up!
Oh king won’t You burn us in the furnace of Your desire
We give up! We give up! We give up!
Oh king won’t You burn us in the furnace of Your desire!
Won’t You throw us in the fire!