cue the hallelujah chorus

ohhh...sweet nectar. looks like daddy needs a new deluxe box set.

nothing like a train to bring you home

as i find myself chugging through the dark tunnels of life, i need Bill to remind me that:

"Faith, she's a whistling train...runnin' hard in the dark
Hope is like a thing untamed...gonna lay to waste your heart
Love is a little bit of God...there for all to know
Love is the everlasting arms...that never do let go.
This is dangerous terrain...we're attempting to traverse
And it's a cryin' shame...but it could be a lot worse."

if you are in need of cheap therapy or are simply longing for a trustworthy voice and a jangly guitar to affirm that you are not alone, audible sigh is the album for you.

i hope i'm not spoiling the surprise…

but stormie o'martian is publishing yet another winner. the title of this one is the prayer that changes everything: the hidden power of praising God. in honor of stormie's new book and her penchant for branding I thought we could help her develop the titles of her next few books. please note, only entries that include the words 'power' and 'prayer' will be accepted. winning entries will be sent directly to the editor of harvest house publishers. no purchase necessary for entry. void where prohibited.

here are my initial entries:

• The power of republican prayer
  
• the power of prejudiced prayer
  
• the power of propaganda prayer (props to schunemann for this one)
  
• the power of profanity-laden prayer
  
• the power of pms prayer

my latest steamer

We are pleased to announce the official opening of Christianbook.com's Presidential Library. If you are looking for Presidential biographies, resources for history lessons or testimonies to America's Godly heritage, be sure to take a tour!

now sing along with me, "God Bless Capitalism, the machine that we love, stand beside her, and guide her, yoke her to Christ, the consumer's delight, up above..."

easier to proclaim than apply

'so what, so what, so what…' I can hear dr. sackett asking in his gruff, staccato voice. usually when that sound bite plays in the hidden recesses, i am trying to develop an appropriate conclusion to a teaching, but this time, i am trying to convince myself that the truth of the story applies to my own life.

yesterday i had the privilege of preaching at a little american baptist church in allston, ma (for you former week of e'ers and other sundry travelers, that's just about 3 minutes from harvard square). the sermon was the second installment of a series on the parable of the prodigal son. unsurprisingly, each sermon speaks from the perspective of one of the three main characters. the last sermon was a first person narrative that spoke from the perspective of the elder brother and yesterday's sermon spoke from the perspective of the prodigal. when I looked at the story from the perspective of the prodigal, i realized that we are called to practice the discipline of returning. by returning I am not speaking merely of one-time, cataclysmic, crack whore to Christ conversions, but also of the regular process of realizing who we are as children of God, repenting of who we were when we tried to masquerade as children of the dusk instead of children of the day and fully receiving the love of God.

i will, mercifully, refrain from sharing the entire content of the sermon, but will confess that after pounding on the first step of returning so strongly, i had a really difficult time believing it. the reasons for my doubt are trivial, but far from impotent. due to a simple scheduling mistake i arrived at the church just as at the moment that I was expected to preach. my unexpected tardiness left me completely out of sync, as well as flush red in the face, and the sermon never did recover. thus, the sermon that was pent up in my bones went largely unexpressed and for the rest of the day I moped around, struggling to believe that I am indeed a son of God. when such doubts about my identity arise, i usually repeat God's affirmation to Christ at his baptism, 'you are my Son, with whom I am well pleased,' figuring that if I am truly a member of Christ's body the affirmation applies directly to me (and probably you as well). but after the sermon, i didn't want to believe it. i doubted my sonship because i failed to preach effectively and i questioned my salvation out of fear that a dilettante like myself isn't worth it.

of course, therein lies the problem. on four out of ten days I don't believe that i am saved by the grace of God, but rather by my ability to effectively lead the body, faithfully submit myself to the lordship of Christ and fully utilize the 'gifts' that have been given me. so i stay in the far country because i do not believe that God is willing or able to transform this rebel into a son. i am much more receptive to the internal voice of self-rejection than i am to the voice that calls me beloved.

perhaps the reason the sermon didn't connect with the congregation is because it first had to be applied to the heart of the prodigal pastor. my prayer is by and through God's grace I will eventually realize who I am, so that I can finally be who He has created me to be. furthermore, i pray that all of us will learn to practice the discipline of returning.

sunday morning uncertainty

miniscule refractions of light
encourage me to ascend these towering heights
but i'm falling, yes, i'm falling

i believe that saying doesn't make it so
that truth is submission, sacrifice and letting go
there is a word that shapes the heart, i just can't hear it

while falling, teach me to trust
in love, make me an incarnation
in all things, let me follow the refraction