Young Hearts And Fire

For some time I've been reading selections from Spurgeon to my teenage Sunday School class off and on to get our class started. A few weeks back, I offered to buy a copy of Morning and Evening for any student who wanted one, as some of them had grown quite fond of our occasional readings. Five young people requested a copy.

The books came in.

I passed them out (along with a personal note from me inside the front cover of each one).

Tonight I received a text message from one 18 year old: "Wow...Spurgeon was great 2day. I feel as though my heart has slowly grown harder. Pray that my heart be ablaze in God's Spirit. Thanks." How cool is that! That young man made my day.

Below is the excerpt he had read:

"Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord."—Lamentations 3:40.

The spouse who fondly loves her absent husband longs for his return; a long protracted separation from her lord is a semi-death to her spirit: and so with souls who love the Saviour much, they must see His face, they cannot bear that He should be away upon the mountains of Bether, and no more hold communion with them. A reproaching glance, an uplifted finger will be grievous to loving children, who fear to offend their tender father, and are only happy in his smile. Beloved, it was so once with you. A text of Scripture, a threatening, a touch of the rod of affliction, and you went to your Father's feet, crying, "Show me wherefore Thou contendest with me?" Is it so now? Are you content to follow Jesus afar off? Can you contemplate suspended communion with Christ without alarm? Can you bear to have your Beloved walking contrary to you, because you walk contrary to Him? Have your sins separated between you and your God, and is your heart at rest? O let me affectionately warn you, for it is a grievous thing when we can live contentedly without the present enjoyment of the Saviour's face. Let us labour to feel what an evil thing this is—little love to our own dying Saviour, little joy in our precious Jesus, little fellowship with the Beloved! Hold a true Lent in your souls, while you sorrow over your hardness of heart. Do not stop at sorrow! Remember where you first received salvation. Go at once to the cross. There, and there only, can you get your spirit quickened. No matter how hard, how insensible, how dead we may have become, let us go again in all the rags and poverty, and defilement of our natural condition. Let us clasp that cross, let us look into those languid eyes, let us bathe in that fountain filled with blood—this will bring back to us our first love; this will restore the simplicity of our faith, and the tenderness of our heart.

An Uneven Trade

One of the greatest assurances we have as believers in the security of our salvation is how it was accomplished.

"God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God." 2 Corinthians 5:21

When I am feeling my worst, either pounded by sin and temptation, or just simply struggling with the brokenness of my humanity, meditating on these facts brings floods of relief, awe, tears and worship.

My substitute . . . salvation specifically for me . . . that death, that punishment . . . the most amazing transaction the world has ever heard. He didn't do it so that I might perhaps believe. He did it so I could and would believe. And He sealed the deal with His own blood, His own life. His arm is not too short to save and save completely. "O to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be! Let Thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to Thee!"

Can this be preached too much? Never.

Kitchen Music

On the heels of yesterday's post . . . a series of connections led me to dig around YouTube to find music by a guitarist I've enjoyed by the name of Jimmy A (Abegg). I became familiar with Abegg listening to Charlie Peacock and Rich Mullins' Ragamuffin Band. At any rate, here's something light and beautiful for the weekend; a couple videos of some great (but lesser known, unfortunately - though they'd probably like to keep it that way) names in Christian music jamming in someone's kitchen of all places.

In this first vid, Jimmy A is to the left of Michael Roe, and on Jimmy's left is Phil Madeira. To Michael's right is Matt Slocum of Sixpence.



Matt Slocum playing the cello in this song takes my breath away. I don't know what it is about cellos and violins . . that sweet, resonant wood and how it shapes the notes and sends them out like love poems . . . I just don't know.

Friday on the Fritz

So my musical tastes range far and wide. I think Steve Taylor is/was a lyrical genius. If you're a Newsboys fan, you've heard a LOT of his lyrics sung by Peter Furler. If you're partial to Steve doing his own stuff, enjoy:



This video of "On The Fritz" is highly artistic and pretty heavy. For the unititiated, let me just tell you that the song tells the story of a man (anyone, really) who has gained notoriety in ministry, but whose heart is tainted and in need of healing and rescue.


Anybody recognize Jimmy Abegg in this vid? :)

Inside Out and Backwards

My youngest son doesn't care how he puts on his clothes. This little guy, who is closing in on seven years old, came up from his room the other night with his PJs on as he had been instructed. Immediately I noticed that his shirt was on backwards. That's pretty much his trademark move; he doesn't even do it on purpose. The icing on this cake, however, was the fact that his pants were also on backwards - AND inside out! I knelt down in front of him, put my hands on his shoulders and announced "You win the award for the most awesome outfit ever! High five!" and then I gave him a huge hug. I wasn't poking fun. I really wasn't. I was so in love with my fun-loving, mommy-and-daddy-hugging, precious-gift-from-God that I had to party a little bit.

For me, this boy is a DAILY reminder of God's mercy (you can read more about that here), and I have a feeling that God views me in much the same way that I see my son. To wit: I'm often ornery and need the board of education applied to my seat of knowledge. I'm sure I'm also quite often adorably silly and don't even realize it (OK, OK, in God's eyes - I don't really think I'm that adorable!). I'm very sure that I'm looked upon as a trophy of grace: one that has been rescued from death and that, by all rights, shouldn't even be here. It's hard - I mean really hard - to imagine that God loves me like I love my little boy, but I think He must.

Almost Like His Last Name

Grace doesn't mean as much when we forget where we came from.

"I am the LORD your God who brought you out of Egypt."

God Almighty uses the words "who brought you out of Egypt" as a suffix to His name at least twenty times in the Old Testament when He is speaking to His people through the prophets. He would not let them forget where they came from, and Who had rescued them.

In the New Testament, Paul wouldn't let his sheep forget it either:
"[R]emember that at that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world." Ephesians 2:12

Grace doesn't mean as much when I forget that although I'm a member of the completely fallen human race, I have been adopted by God through the very intentional atonement accomplished by Christ, I've been transformed and made alive by the Holy Spirit and I'm currently and persistently being held by God. (Credit to whom it is due)

He is the LORD my God, who brought me out of Egypt! Apart from His work, I would still be a slave in a land of darkness.

Repairing Guitars and People

Earlier in the week I wrote about a broken guitar. Since then, I got out the wood glue and the clamps and put my grandfather's guitar back together. The other post describes what led up to the damage; I won't rehash it here. What I will talk about are a few things I've thought about this week about repairing the damage that anger causes.

Typically, when anger is out of control and out of bounds (Psalm 4:4), we end up putting dents in our relationships. It can even total them completely if the emotional wreck is bad enough. What happened with my grandpa's guitar was, thankfully, all by myself and affected no one but me.

However, this has not always been the case, and when another person is involved, I've learned a few things about repairing the damage:

Repair is generally postponed. When the Vibratone was damaged, so was I. I wasn't sure what to do, so I sat it back up on the shelf where it sat, horribly broken, for a couple of years. Not many of us rush back to an injured brother or sister to make amends. Embarrassment and uncertainty and even pride prevent us doing so.

Repair takes some serious thought. At first, I had no idea what to do with my broken guitar. Aside from feeling stupid for causing the damage, I simply didn't know what steps to take to make the repair. It wasn't until I held the damaged goods in my hands and looked it over long and hard that a plan formulated in my mind. We shouldn't ignore damaged relationships, but it's a good idea to think about the best way to go about fixing what we've torn up. (Proverbs 21:29)

Repair is easier once begun. The task of repairing the guitar was formidable at first, but it ended up being much more simple than I had feared. The first step in mending relationships is usually the hardest, but it sets good things in motion and provides more momentum than one might imagine.

Repair begins the moment the process has started. I know, I know, that statement turns back around on itself, but as soon as I learned how to fit the parts of grandpa's guitar back together, before I'd picked up the glue or adjusted any clamps, I felt great satisfaction. I knew then that this repair was doable and was as good as done. Approaching an offended friend or spouse with a plan for repair and a heart of humility will give great confidence that loves covers a multitude of sins. (1 Peter 4:8)

Repairing something is the most wonderful feeling in the world. Now that the guitar is back together, it has become even more meaningful to me. When a friendship is won or a marriage is healed, in large or small ways, the other person becomes even more of a treasure than before. I suppose part of the reason is that both parties have learned that what they share in relationship is larger and stronger than any hurt. We also learn that selfishness is never worth it, whether it shows up in the form of anger or any other attitude. Even Christ humbled Himself, and He had every right not to.

(For a full pictorial of the guitar repair process, take a trip over here . . . )

My Favorite Color

Broken Guitars And Masculine Temper

I have a feeling that the readership of this blog consists mostly of men (if I'm wrong, ladies, please speak up). Since I believe that to be the case, I'm going to write briefly today about a topic near and dear to most men: our temper. I believe that, at the end of their respective ropes, men tend to get mad and women tend to cry. And neither gender knows what to do with the other one when they are exhibiting these emotions.

Now, I am a fairly easy-going fella; the phlegmatic/melancholy type who can get angry about things, but rarely blows a gasket. I want to tell about a time when I did, however. I've been thinking for a while I might write about this, but frankly I was a little ashamed to even bring it up because at this point I'm the only person on earth who knows about it. But here goes.

When my grandfather (on my mom's side) passed away, I was given his guitar and one of his harmonicas. Having his guitar was something quite profound, because I play guitar (sort of). It wasn't much - just an old "Vibratone" probably purchased from the Sears and Roebuck catalog, but it was his, and my grandpa meant the world to me. I cherished the instrument, and proudly displayed it in my home.

And then one night I lost my temper.

I don't even remember now what I was angry about, and I won't supply the gory details of my outburst, but I ended up sending something through the air that hit the guitar and knocked it off of a somewhat lofty perch (where I thought it would be safe). It came crashing down and the body split wide open and the neck partially separated from the body. . . . . . .

I'm not sure I ever felt so ashamed. I was horrified. I surveyed the damage, speechless. Eventually I wrapped the broken guitar in some cordage and put it back up where it had fallen from. I didn't know what to do. It's been sitting up there ever since and constantly reminds me of this simple truth:

"Man's anger does not bring about the righteous life God desires." James 1:20

The only thing my human anger has ever brought was shame. And destruction. And a need for repentance and repair.

Tonight when I get home, I'm going to fix Grandpa's guitar. I'm going to remove the temporary binding I affixed to it to keep it together, and I'm going to glue, clamp and clean that thing. And if my emotions then are anything like they are now as I'm writing this, I'll probably cry.

Look for an update and photos in the next couple days . . .

We WILL See Him

Just plain good . . .

Kick It While It's Down

Believe it or not, one of the books that has helped me greatly in my Christian walk is Sun Tzu's The Art of War. No, really! It's just full of clear-headed, simple tactics to make the most of every combat situation and gain the upper hand over the enemy. One main point stressed in the manual is simply to know your enemy; understanding who or what you're dealing with helps you to be better prepared.

Oh, and I'm not talking about people by the way . . . just sin.

Well, I'm not sure if John Owen ever read Sun Tzu, but he makes the same point in The Mortification of Sin. He says in chapter six, "And indeed, one of the choicest and most eminent parts of practical, spiritual wisdom consists in finding out the subtleties, policies and depths of any indwelling sin."

We must understand our particular weaknesses, when we are most susceptible to the immoral machinations of our flesh, and be on guard. He goes on to point out that we should "be able to say at [sin's] most secret and ... imperceptible actings: 'This is your old way and course, I know what you aim at' ; and so to be always in readiness; this is a good part of our warfare."

The well-seasoned sin-sniper "never thinks his lust dead because it is quiet; but labours still to give it new wounds, new blows, every day. (Colossians 3:5)" In other words, kick it when it's down.

I know my weaknesses and sinful proclivities, and I do well to avoid even putting one toe toward the path that might lead to a full-blown temptation. Why mess around? I've got to daily keep that strangle hold on my sin - even when it's not trying to rear its ugly, tempting head - until it's finally gasped its last breath. (John Piper has no television in his home because he understands his enemy.) Through prayer, surrender, the cleansing of the Word, and walking carefully I'll make headway. And then I'll tackle the next one.

Grooves In The Guitar

What's the best doggone gift you ever received for a birthday or holiday? Hands down, without hesitation, the best gift I was ever given was my Taylor 514ce guitar nearly ten years ago. My wife knew it was my dream guitar, and over a period of several weeks she schemed and connived and got one bought for me. I had NO idea whatsoever, but all my friends were in on it, and she got everybody to chip in. I was dumbfounded when they presented it to me at a worship rehearsal we were all at together.

Now, I'm no fantastic player (my 13 year old son is the speed freak), but I love to chug out some pretty chords for the Savior. And these (nearly) 10 years have taken their toll on my cedar topped Taylor.

I've worn away a lot of wood from around the bottom of the sound hole. Fortunately, the abalone inlay appears to be impervious to my picking. One recent evening playing with our youth band, I tore open the skin on the first knuckle on the index finger of my strumming hand and literally bled all over my guitar. Those black spots inside aren't dirt . . .

I used to feel so awful when my beautiful instrument started to show signs of wear. I felt ashamed actually, thinking I must be doing something wrong. Then I started to notice other guy's guitars; there are some pretty worn out guitars on stages all over this planet (Willie Nelson, anyone?). Even Bob Taylor, creator and founder of Taylor Guitars, says that he loves to see one of his guitars with dings, dents and lots of mileage on it - it means that it's been played and used and loved. So, I guess I don't mind the age showing on my guitar. I daresay it sounds even better now (if that's possible) than it did new.

Which leads me to my point: the older I get, the more "damage" I seem to sustain. I've got scars, dents, imperfections - proof of hard use. I've been bloodied by life a time or two, but the beautiful thing of it is, my merciful God keeps changing my strings, keeping me polished, and playing better and more beautiful music on me with each passing year. I'm realizing that I'm nothing more than an instrument, and though I wish I could look a little better than I do inside, frankly I don't care if I reach the end of this life as a worn out stump as long as I've been used well in the hands of the Master.

Please check out this coincidentally-somewhat-related-and-very-cool-post. Thanks, Chris.

Bathing In Beauty

You know your wife is the most beautiful woman that ever lived, but you can't really explain it. You gasp and grasp for words when the mountains rise out of the plains before you and there's nothing to say but "wow." We just don't know exactly what to do with beauty and the way it makes us feel.

So, in keeping with the topic of "beauty" one more day (see HERE and THERE), I'm going to quote C.S. Lewis from The Weight of Glory again:

"We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words - to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it."

True enough. Beauty emanates from the Creator and He must be absolutely, utterly stunning in His radiance and magnificence AND in His subtlety and gentleness for these also are elements of beauty.

To cap this all off, here is a video from Need to Breathe called, appropriately enough, "Something Beautiful":
(MISCELLANY: The standing guitarist is using DADGAD tuning, I think; the box they're beating on is called a cajon; the breakdown that starts at 3:14 is awesome!)

Beautiful Evidence

I've always thought that beauty was great evidence for a Creator. What we see throughout history, unfortunately, is humanity worshipping beautiful things, and not the Creator. The sun, moon, stars, animals, weather phenomena - all these things are beautiful (which is an anemic word to describe the majesty of some of these objects) and have been revered as divine by mankind.

Well, we can't blame this idolatry on the beautiful things, nor can we blame it on the Creator for making such nice "stuff". What it comes down to is mankind's corrupt nature and natural inclination for running after everything but Truth.

In The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis spends some time working out the topic of beauty. Here is just a snippet:

"The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things . . . are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited."

I still think beauty is good evidence for a Creator, and when I'm moved by some sunset vista or thrilled by the power of a storm I feel that longing for the One who is over all, who lives in unapproachable light and Whose country I will someday visit because I have been made a citizen.