C1

This past Tuesday, Tasha and I were privileged to join with our friends from Return Worship to lead CharlotteONE, a college and young adult gathering in downtown Charlotte. CharlotteONE was started as a tool to reach the young professionals of Charlotte. C1 is a parachurch organization that strategically partners with local churches and their already existing or non-existing college ministries. David Hickman, the founder and the brains behind C1, invited Return to lead this Spring semester and what a huge honor it is!



If you're in the Charlotte area, come out every Tuesday night to First United Methodist Church at 7 pm to experience the movement of God happening with C1.

This week we played:
1. I Am Free (Desperation Band)
2. Here is our King (David Crowder)
3. Marvelous Light (Charlie Hall)
4. Jesus Paid it All (Passion)
5. Mighty to Save (Hillsong)

Flashback Friday: Nile River Baptisms

This day marks 1 of the top 5 best days of my life. During one of my 3 trips to Uganda, Africa (2004) I had the privilege of baptizing a bunch of new believers who were saved in the church that my brother, Smooth, and I started in a village 3 years earlier (2001). And we baptized them right there in the Nile River in Jinja, Uganda. It was an incredible day! Words can't express the feeling of returning to the church 3 years later and see it exploding at the seams with new believers. We praise God for the work still going on in Uganda even after the horrific struggles they've experienced in the past 30 years.

Enter the Worship Circle

Just finished Enter the Worship Circle by Ben Pasley. Ben is a worship leader, song writer and creative writer. The book is evangelistically driven, with hopes that an unbeliever will pick it up and be hooked because of the spiritual hunger of this generation. His main goal is to argue that the spiritual hunger in every soul is placed there by the one true and living God, Jesus Christ, whom should be the center and focus of our worship. His creative style (using 7 different perspectives, or voices), and quick easy-to-read chapters add to the book's ability to hook you and makes for great toilet reading.

Overall, a great read and I only came away with 2 criticisms:

1. He's a bit too mystical for my taste. It's obvious that he comes from a tradition that places a lot of stock in prophetic dreams and visions. Now, I certainly am not one to put limits on what God chooses to do today and how He chooses to do it, but I do have reservations when prophetic dreams and visions overshadow the biblical revelation that we have in God's Word. I'm not presuming that Pasley does that, but I do see it as a small red flag.

2. Though the book is written with the unbeliever in mind, Pasley never quite brings the reader to the point of decision. He clearly communicates the need for a Savior and how much we all need Him, but then leaves the reader hanging as if to say, "You'll figure out what to do next!" This is a major criticism I see of the book, because I think that for many readers, the end will only leave them frustrated and perhaps more confused. But then again, the Holy Spirit can work through anything.

One of the best nuggets I pulled out comes later on in the book. The chapter is simply called "Music" and it's a personification of music, as if music could communicate thoughts about God and itself. Here's some of it:

"I am constantly trespassing the boundaries that confine the language of words. I am passion given voice. I am the music of the worshiping soul ... I exist in the heavens, in the spiritual world that some men never see, and I move like a great tide from the throne room of God into the rooms of worshipers everywhere. My distant half-brothers fill the earth with reflections of love for everything but the living God. They are only half-rhythms and half-music, and they only hint at the sacred, even if pointing to the profane. I am pure. Whether aggressive or sublime. Whether future or primeval. Whether simple or confused. I can be angry or sad or lonely or happy or insane or romantic. I am the sound of relationship between people and God."

Flashback Friday: My Patient Girlfriend

My incredible wife turned 29 yesterday! I was out of the blogging world all day yesterday, and for good reason - we were hanging out together!

(Dan and Raina, thanks for watching the kids for us last night. We owe you one!)

It was a love for music and worship that brought us together while in college at North Greenville College, in the smallest town on the map, Tigerville, SC. We met while playing together in our BSU praise band, and from there it led to more opportunities to lead worship together, a beautiful courtship, and now a family and a ministry.

She put up with a lot in those early days. Here's a small list I've compiled as I sit here and think about how incredible she was (and still is) to endure my idiosyncrasies.

Top 10 Things Tasha Put Up With:

1. My terrible communication skills.

2. The fact that I frequently fell asleep on the phone during life-altering conversations about our future together, God's will, and small stuff like that.

3. My tendency to wax philosophical after just coming out of Systematic Theology.

4. An absolute love affair with Ramen noodles.

5. A dorm room bed whose sheets hadn't been washed in 3 semesters (thankfully, this information was never disclosed until after the wedding ceremony - of course, this was intentional).

6. My one pair of jeans that were never washed.

7. My '94 Mitsubishi Eclipse with NO defrost - the speculation and talk that must have went on as we pulled onto campus with foggy windows - not helpful for 2 kids trying to demonstrate pure lives in front of peers!

8. The fact that our fanciest dates were Sunday's "Wear a Tie for Roast Beef and Potatoes" day in our school cafeteria.

9. The blank stares and courtesy responses she received from me immediately following her music theory classes ("sure babe, counterpoint, mmm hmm, yea... theme and variation ... right... mmm hmmm....")

and finally,

10. My nasty, unwashed, dreadlocks!



Tasha, you're a very patient woman. Thank you for almost 6 incredible years of marriage! I love you more today than ever. Thanks for joining me in this journey together. Now, let's go to Oak Island, NC and continue our ministry together at this winter retreat!

We would appreciate your prayers for the students that we minister to this weekend at Fort Caswell Baptist Camp - that the Holy Spirit will work in their lives in a powerful way. Thanks so much.

Flashbang

Just finished reading Flashbang: How I Got Over Myself by Mark Steele. I definitely recommend if you want an easy page-turner packed with truth. It's a book of personal stories and musings from Mark's life as a comedian and film maker who happens to be a devout follower of Christ. I laughed out loud all the way through the book. He's a clever writer and definitely knows how to use humor effectively. It's hard to approach this book with your guard up, so when Mark draws his analogies and the truth comes flying at you, it hits hard.

Here's a quick takeaway from Chapter 1:

* (Background: He tells a comical story about having several pet birds growing up. They were allowed to roam the house freely, but always returned to their cages when they were ready.)

"The parakeets, the finches. They all lived far, far beyond their normal life spans because they spread their wings into the wild, all the while returning to the cage to rest and refuel ...

So real freedom has nothing to do with getting away from the cage.

We think our society is so elite because we choose our own freedoms, but really, we are just in constant denial of what it means to be a true human being. We fight against the cage for the sake of freedom, but we are nothing close to free."

Flashback Friday: Brandy

The great theologian Woody Allen once said, "I'm not afraid to die; I just don't want to be there when it happens."

As a 10-year old boy, I was there when death came calling for Brandy, my precious cocker-spaniel. I was riding the bus. Brandy liked to chase my bus quite frequently. I think it made her feel mighty. Like she was the cause of this enormous yellow contraption running in the other direction. I felt a thump.

"Hmm ... I wonder what that was!"

I asked my brother, Smooth. He didn't know. We disembarked.

A huddle of neighborhood kids began to gather around Brandy at the foot of my driveway. She lay there in a pool of her own blood, struggling, gurgling her last few breaths. I sat dumbfounded.

"I just ran over my dog," I thought to myself. Maybe I wasn't the one driving, but I was an accomplice nonetheless. I was partly to blame.

"How can I go on?" I wondered. "How can these people go about their normal lives when Brandy lies here in her final moments?" It was a crushing blow to a young developing soul.

Why did she have to love me so much? Why couldn't she at least have had some measure of disdain for me, or my bookbag, my middle-school odor, something? - something that would have acted as a deterrent on that fateful day? - that horrid day burned forever in my memory.

If there was one thing I learned in the midst of that tragedy, it's this:
Skipping school saves lives!

Here's a traditional haiku poem I just wrote in Brandy's memory.

K-9 FOOL

Oh, Brandy, you fool.
I miss you. Why did you go?
That fateful day - bleak.

You ran toward death
Unbeknownst to you - big bus.
You fool. Death on street.

I wish'd you'd been smart
Instead, you loved me too much.
The pain. The sorrow.

Sobs. Tears. Time passes.
Less tears now. I'm grown. You're dead.
There's no tomorrow.

Rockstar Zeke

Here's one of the coolest presents we've ever given our kids. With some of Zeke's Christmas money from the grandparents, we bought him a junior guitar. It actually has real strings, stays in tune (that is when Zeke isn't using torturing and banging on it like you would a sick kitten), and is the perfect stunt double when I bring mine out. My Taylor guitar has been thanking me everyday that it no longer has to endure the beating that Zeke provides. It wants to know why this didn't happen sooner. I'm wondering the same thing.

What a little rockstar! Notice the picks the size of Texas!!

A Thread of Consistency

For a gift several years ago, Tasha's mom and aunt spent several weeks quilting her a memory blanket--a blanket made up of scraps of t-shirts and other memorabilia from Tasha's childhood--pieces of cloth that had special significance in Tasha's life at various stages. It was a pretty special gift.

Now, I don't know much about quilting--and let it be known that that's a good thing--but I do know that throughout the process, the entire thing hinges on a central thread, a central weave, a common starting and continuing point. It's all held together by a common, consistent thread.

This morning my pastor posted a blog challenging the men in our church to step up and be the godly leaders that God has called us to be for our families--to live lives of consistency in our homes. I think as husbands and fathers striving to be men of God in a depraved culture, the challenge comes in making it stick in the home--living out what we preach under our own roof--where little ears are listening intently--where little eyes are watching our every move--watching for consistency.

I'm thankful that I had, and still have, a dad who modeled this type of example in our home (About this time last year my dad stepped out on a limb for me, risking his image in the face of a particularly influential group of people in order to come to my aid. I wrote a post last year about my reaction to it and my increased respect and honor for him). As a pastor's kid, I watched my dad day in and day out live out in our home exactly what he preached from the pulpit. There was a consistency that ran through everything he taught, said and believed like the central thread in a quilt holding the whole thing together. That central thread of consistency was what drew me to Christ years later as a teenager.

And now I'm faced with the same challenge. To live a life that emulates Christ in the home. My kids often see me singing and leading people in worship, and sometimes, during rehearsals, Tasha will sit them down in front of the stage in their booster seats as they eat their meals with beaming eyes. I see them watching, observing (though sometimes they are lost behind the layer of food caked on their faces and I wonder, as I'm singing, who that pizza thinks he is eating my kid's face like that). They're beginning to understand what I'm all about--from a limited perspective, no doubt, but a perspective nonetheless. And so I'm challenged to live it out. I'm challenged to be real. To one day help them make some minutiae of sense out of tough situations--like when their friends' dads walk out on their families. I pray to God everyday that He will keep me a man of purity, a man of integrity, a man of the Word and a man of my word.

Last year at a leadership conference I heard John Maxwell make this statement in regards to maintaining moral purity and integrity,

"Everyday I wake up scared to death that I have the capacity to blow it. I never live under the assumption that I am beyond the capability of falling and failing morally."

That's where I want to live--never assuming that moral failure is beyond me. That I'm always just one choice away from losing everything. For me, this becomes a driving force, a catalyst, an impetus to wake up everyday cradled in the arms of my Savior, putting on the armor of God and allowing Him to live His life through me--trusting that He is helping me to weave a thread of consistency in my life that will hopefully one day be evident to my kids.

My Girls

The 2 women in my life whom I adore above all others. This was taken 2 days after Christmas. Rainy was still on the Christmas high, I think. Tasha, well ... she was too! I love my girls!!

Scent of Evergreen

Miss Piggy once said,

"Never eat more than you can carry."

I should have taken her advice this past week. As with many of you, I'll be hitting the gym again this week with newfound inspiration that somehow accompanies the magical letdown of the closing of the Christmas season. Or at least my intentions will be hitting the gym. As the season lets down, so do our bellies. I'm not sure how all of that works, but it does.

I usually go into a clinical depression this time of the year as I begin to see the lights of the season slowly fade away with each sunny day that passes. The ambitious home owner who was psycho about decorating only 30 days ago is now psycho in the other direction. I wish his previous psychosis would linger a little longer. Because I get sad. That's why I don't decorate the outside of my house. I'd never have the willpower to remove what I spent so many grueling, passionate man hours to put up in the first place.

Tasha takes care of the inside. She tackled it today for a few hours. I asked if she would spare the Christmas tree one day longer to give me time to process what's happening. I asked if I could have just one more quiet morning with my coffee and Bible beside the tree before the pitiful thing is devoured by Friday's sanitation crew. Because I need it. She politely obliged. So, tomorrow marks the death of our tree and the death of the scent of evergreen that fuels the drive inside me all through the month of December. I suppose I shall have to discover another form of fuel for the months ahead. Thanks to global warming, I can't count on snow to give me that push any longer.

I'm jealous of my inlaws, Robbie and Larry Litke. They live in Colorado Springs, Colorado and they were literally snowed in on Christmas day. I would have asked them to mail me at least the head of the snowman they built, but I don't think the postal service is too keen on delivering indigenous carrots and unpackaged coal. I would have loved to see it though. I think I forgot what snow looks like. It's yellow, isn't it?

To celebrate New Years' Day, we played with our kids outside. I'm discovering that's how we celebrate everything. But not in the snow. Because there wasn't any. But in the sunshine of the day. In the water-starved tract of land that once resembled our backyard. Now it's a barren wasteland, complete with a heap of plastic yard ornaments knows as kids' toys--more now thanks to the gift-giving insanity of the grandparents. But I love them (I love to kick them-the toys that is, not the grandparents...well, only on occasion, like when they give a superfluity of unnecessary gifts to their grandkids). I love them because my kids love them. I pushed Rainy around on her bike today and began teaching her the difference between her left and her right. She started to pick it up quickly and I was proud. I was proud to be called her dad.

I'm proud to enter into 2008 with a family that I love more than anything else on this earth. I'm proud to enter into 2008 with fresh vision and passion for what God wants to do through us, our ministry, our church, our friends all over the world, and our family scattered all over the US. I'm excited because while half of the Christians around our country today are too worried about boycotting the new dollar coins because they don't say, "In God we trust," I'm thankful that God can take care of Himself and doesn't need my measly efforts to try to defend Him. I'd rather spend my time focusing on how I can communicate the message of the Gospel to the junkie who just walked out on his wife and kids. I'd rather focus on how I can minister to the college student who is thinking that an abortion is the best answer to her "problem." I'd rather figure out a way to love the unlovable. To touch the untouchable. I'm thankful that God has put me in this country. But I'm also thankful that this country is not the be all and end all of salvation-history. I'm encouraged because God's mission is never deterred, faltered or hindered. He's not in the least bit scared, intimidated or shocked by the condition of the world, our country, or our politics. He's interested in seeing all men come to repentance. That's never changed. And I pray that never changes in me. That's the fuel. That's my scent of evergreen.

It's All About Me

The Last Song

Today in church history marks the death of Philip Bliss (December 29, 1876), a hymn writer and evangelist of the 19th century. He died at the age of 38 when his train derailed in Ashtabula, Ohio and plunged 60 feet into the icy waters below. He died alongside his wife and 92 other passengers.

He was famous for writing such hymns as "Wonderful Words of Life, "Let the Lower Lights Be Burning," "I Will Sing of My Redeemer" and "I Gave My Life for Thee." The lyrics to his brand-new hymn "I Will Sing of My Redeemer" were found among his belongings following the train catastrophe. They essentially became his last words and epitaph.

I will sing of my Redeemer,
And His wondrous love to me;
On the cruel cross He suffered,
From the curse to set me free.

Sing, oh, sing of my Redeemer,
With His blood He purchased me,
On the cross He sealed my pardon,
Paid the debt, and made me free.

I will tell the wondrous story,
How my lost estate to save,
In His boundless love and mercy,
He the ransom freely gave.

I will praise my dear Redeemer,
His triumphant pow'r I'll tell,
How the victory He giveth
Over sin, and death, and hell.

I will sing of my Redeemer,
And His heav'nly love to me;
He from death to life hath brought me,
Son of God with Him to be.

Bliss died with the praises of God on His lips. The Redeemer to which he had just finished writing and singing became his heavenly audience moments later.

And I can't think of a better way to meet my Savior than to have just composed my last song of praise to Him - singing of my Redeemer.

Flashback Friday: SpyTech

One of the fondest Christmas memories I have was receiving some dearly-coveted SpyTech gear. Do you remember SpyTech? It must have been Christmas 1988 and I got the long-range microphone and the periscope. You should have seen our expressions when my brothers and I learned that the art of parental-spying that we had come to know and love was now being encouraged and endorsed by our victim parents! It was truly an act of providence raining down!!

I'll Take It (God's Love)

Christmas Eve Recap

The Christmas Eve service at Southbrook was off the hook!! After it was all said and done, we led worship 8 times. The band did awesome. We gave it all we had every service. I've never been more proud to be a part of a team of worshipers like I was Monday night. With each service we pumped each other up like it was the last time we'd ever get to lead, keeping in mind that there most certainly lost people needing Christ in each service. As adrenaline-laced as the night was, there were some small things that we discovered helped us stay psyched throughout the night. For instance,
1. We gave each other the "wet salmon" frequently throughout the night (a quick slap back and forth just above the knees as a sort of "gotcha when you weren't looking" gesture).
2. After a quick wardrobe change halfway through, I ditched my sweaty undershirt in place of a fresh one.
3. Many of us kept the caffeine flowing intravenously.
4. Hot tea with honey for the vocalists - a heavenly concoction.
5. Unending inside jokes.
6. And endless amounts of food provided by our wonderful team of volunteers.

Check out Rob Singleton's blog for more on the Christmas Eve service, including pics and videos.

And a special thanks to the whole team of volunteers who kept everything rolling. You guys were amazing!!

Song Set:
1. O Come, O come Emmanuel
2. O Come Let Us Adore Him
3. Joy to the World (w/ Coldplay's "Talk" intro)
4. Hark, the Herald Angels Sing/Noel
5. O Holy Night

Playlist 12.23.07 and Christmas Eve!

Yesterday we had the privilege of leading worship again at our home church here in Charlotte - Southbrook Church. It's been about 3 months since we were able to do that, being on the road so much. It was awesome though. Pastor Rob gave a strong salvation message and the Lord broke through to many hearts. 76 people prayed to receive Jesus. Praise the Lord for that! Read my wife's blog for more details.

We played:
1. O Holy Night
2. Rejoice (Chris Tomlin)
3. Immanuel (Via, brand new one)
4. O Little Town of Bethlehem w/ the tag from Fix You (Coldplay).

If you're in the Charlotte area tonight and you're looking for a great Christmas Eve service, come on out to Southbrook for "Going Home for Christmas" - a dramatic production and time of worship. You can choose from any of 5 services!! (Yea, a death-wish, I know) 4:00, 5:30, 7:00, 8:30 and 10:00. Tasha and I, Sarah Scott, and Andy Cherry and the band will be leading the worship portion. Pray that we'll all have enough stamina to get through it, and most importantly, that God will be honored!

Sufjan Stevens - Put the Lights on the Tree

Here's a sweet little diddy to get us all in the Christmas spirit!

Flashback Friday: Agapeland

When I was about 5 years old, my favorite cassette tape was called "Bullfrogs and Butterflies" by the Agapeland Kids Series. I still remember the magic, beauty and wonder that exuded from the tape player when I popped it in. Hours of listening enjoyment for me. Hours of senseless torture for my parents. To fill you in, Agapeland was a series of music tapes and records that taught essential Bible truths and principles for kids. It was sort of a precursor to Veggie Tales, Hillsong Kids, and stuff like that. And I loved them. I still remember the tune and lyrics to the chorus of "Bullfrogs and Butterflies."

"Bullfrogs and butterflies. We both been born again!" (repeat)

That's good stuff right there.

I remember on vacation one year my parents convinced me that we were actually going to visit Agapeland, "the wonderland of love." I imagined it as a magical place where God and the angels lived, with roller coasters and cotton candy. The next day when we arrived at Dollywood, I didn't know the difference. My brother, Smooth, and I had a blast, except for the slight pain in the bottom of my foot. I tried to complain as little as possible, sucked it up, and walked an entire day around "Agapeland" with a throbbing foot. When the day was over, my mom decided she'd better have a look. She removed my shoe to discover a small toy football helmet about the size of a golf ball. And that was the day I decided that I hated plastic toy football helmets, but I still loved Agapeland.

Walk in the Name

I read Micah 4 this morning. Verse 5 jumped off the page:

"Though all the peoples each walk in the name of their gods, we will walk in the name of Yahweh our God forever and ever."

It reminded me of Joshua 24:15, where Joshua drew a line in the sand saying,

"Choose for yourselves today the one you will worship: the gods your fathers worshiped ... or the gods of the Amorites ... But as for me and my family, we will worship the LORD."

I wondered what it meant to actually "walk in the name of the Yahweh." Calvin said that it's meant to show the stark contrast between Yahweh and every other god.

"How did they derive their majesty and their power, except from the false imagination of men? ... The power and authority of God is not founded on any vain device of men, for he of himself exists, and will exist, though he were denied by the whole world" (Calvin's Commentaries, Micah, 273).

A false god has no majesty or power except that which is given it by the imagination of the dreamer. But since it is merely an object of the imagination, the power is void. To walk in the name of Yahweh is to walk under the reign of the One God who holds the planets in orbit, yet holds the hearts of men, desiring a genuine relationship with each and every person - a task impossible for a god who does not exist.

When I was 14 I stood in the city of Trivandrum (a port city of southern India) peering at an enormous temple built around a large twisted oak tree. The tree was worshiped as one Hindu god among millions. Later during that same trip, I heard fireworks that lasted for several hours. I finally asked my interpreter what was going on and he explained that the fireworks were devices meant to awaken the sleeping gods so that they could then be worshiped.

Most American Christians scoff at the god-imaginations of other cultures. But we have our own devices to awaken our sleeping gods - they're called remote controls. They awaken our 60" flat screen in HD so that worship can follow - they're called credit cards and bank accounts that awaken the sleeping god of American consumerism and materialism - a god that promises to fulfill, but never cashes in on the promise - a god that has many different names, but carries the same illusion.

If we are honest, are hearts are often torn and divided in our allegiance to the Living God. If this is where you find yourself, read this verse to see how the Psalmist prayed against this tendency. Then let this Puritan prayer be the prayer of your heart today:

Lord, "I confess and bewail my deficiencies and backslidings:
I mourn my numberless failures,
my incorrigibility under rebukes,
my want of profiting under ordinances of mercy,
my neglect of opportunities for usefulness.
It is not with me as in months past;
O recall me to thyself, and enable me to feel my first love."

P.S. As soon as I get the chance I'm reading this book by Antonio Monda. I heard about it on NPR. Yea, I know ... I'm getting old!

That's My King

If this doesn't fire you up, check your pulse!