I love music.

LOVE, I tell you.

There is something about music that stirs the soul in a way that many can’t.

I love to write and make music, and I love to listen to it made by others much better than me.

Currently, I’ve been listening to loads of Matthew Perryman Jones.  I’ve also been listening to Jeremy Casella, who I opened for a while back at a house show…great songwriter and storyteller.  I’ll also be attending two concerts in April, one for Sandra McCracken & Derek Webb, and another concert with a favorite: The Robbie Seay Band.  They have a new album out very soon, so you should jump over to their site and grab a copy.  You can even get it on vinyl!!

So, what are you listening to?

I’d love to hear.  Perhaps it’s something I’ve not heard of, and perhaps you’ll be turned on to something new as well through the comments.

How long, O Lord?

I need to be honest here…

I hate to wait.

And wouldn’t you know it…God doesn’t.  He is patient and long-suffering.  Slow to anger, even.

Yet somehow I feel like I’m entitled to get answers now from him.  I have so much to learn.

He feels pretty silent these days.  My prayers feel like they bounce off some sort of invisible ceiling lately.  I’ve begun to consider the possibility that my prayer life is not to consist of simply asking him for things.  Rather, I should spend time with him.  I should get to know him more. So, off to his very words I’ve gone.

Luckily, I’m not at a loss for places in scripture where God seemed silent.  I immediately think of Job.  I also go right to David as well.  The Psalms are chocked full of David’s desperate cries to God.

Psalm 13 is one of my favorites, full of such honesty and desperation.  I thought it was a fitting text to meditate on and share during this time of silence.  Take the time to chew on it for a bit.

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
Consider and answer me, O LORD my God;
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,”
lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.
But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD, because he has dealt bountifully with me.

His love is to be trusted.  Salvation is his.  He’s been so good, even in the silence.  A part of my heart is changing, not just stirring, and part of that change has been in the silence.

Maybe you’re not feeling him lately.  It could be a time to let things die in order for restoration, perhaps.  I do know that we all need patience.  I can’t get over how patient he’s been with me, after I’ve blown it time and time (and time) again.

I want to have patience.  I want to trust him.  He’s been good to me.

So I will wait.

Happy Monday to you all, and welcome back to the series of posts about this season of Lent.  In case you haven’t read them yet, check them out and get up to speed on the wrestling.  They’re linked below for you convenience.

• Here’s to Death: Lent (part one)
• Here’s to Death: Lent (part two)
• Take Time to Stop: Lent (part three)
• Gaining Wisdom: Lent (part four)
• A Break in the Clouds: Lent (part five)
• Be Thawed & Rejoice: Lent (part six)

Ok, back to today…

You know, sometimes Friday’s quote doesn’t seem believable to me.  Sometimes there’s
only one deafening sound from God in times of great need, and it’s this:

Silence.

During this season of dying, which has felt really close to what I imagine the real thing feels like, I’ve had my share of the [seemingly] silent treatment from God.  Why doesn’t he speak up when I’m crying out?  Why can’t I seem to find him anywhere?

Is he testing me?  Is the silence a part of some sort of lesson?  Perhaps it’s to show me why faith is necessary.

I have a feeling that I’m just not paying attention.

Romans 1:20 says:

For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.

You see, I really have no excuse for missing out on seeing his power displayed and his nature personified.  For one, He’s everywhere.  I’ve seen his power on display at the Grand Canyon and the ocean.  And I’ve seen glimpses of his nature in my wife’s patience with me(you have no idea), my co-worker’s compassion for those struggling, and Eliud, whom I’ve never even met.

Maybe I should lift my head up and take everything in.  Maybe I should pay closer attention to all of the reminders that are around me.  I feel like the image above conveys what he says to us…

Feel free to look around.  You’ll see me.

Where are you seeing God in your life right now?

image: Sam

I’m going to ask a simple question for you folks….

What is the one thing, above any other, that God is teaching you right now?

For me, it would be that I am finding out more and more about just how big God really is. 

How about you?

Ready?  Go.

Spring is upon us.

A new season.  A season of life bursting forth from the cold and dreary.

It’s often cold and dreary, isn’t it?

I write this while looking out my window in Arizona, where it is unusually cloudy and rainy.  We’ve had more rain this season than any in Arizona’s history, I believe.  Not that I’m complaining.  It will be 110° before we know it.  But for now, the environment around me is a reminder that my life has been fairly cold and dreary, especially during this season of Lent.  Perhaps I’m learning more about what it means to die to things.  Perhaps I’m just finally paying attention and listening.

I’m still not sure.

But, I am sure of one thing.  Spring is upon us.  Life is bursting forth.

My life.

Your life.

You know, a heart frozen by bitterness, cynicism and fear is a dangerous thing.  Wounds run deep, causing it to barricade itself for protection.  It thinks that by staying closed off and hardened, no one will be affected.  Instead, it lashes out in anger, tries to change appearances for acceptance or wishes for more punishment.  “Maybe if I just suffered more,” it says, “I could finally move on.”

My heart has been frozen in areas, but these areas are dying.  In their place grows a new hope.  A hope of more compassion, more humility, more Christ.  Spring has come, but some things are still frozen.  As the ice starts to melt it cracks, sending pain jolting throughout the area frozen.  This has proven to be quite unbearable at times.

The thawing of a deep freeze is nothing minor.  This takes time.  A season’s time.  It’s going to be painful.  There is no story of redemption without depravity.  But, he’s right there with me.  Through the pain.  Through me wrestling with change.

I’ve heard his whispers slowly increase in volume during this season, and now, as the season begins to change, I hear him saying…

Be thawed, and rejoice!

image: Sam