An Open Letter to Switchfoot

{First off, let me state simply that although the term "open letter" bears the connotation (due to  a long history) of being political-type tools for sparking debates--that is not what I intend this to be. In fact, that's far from my intent with this open letter. Rather, this is partially me striving to walk out what I talk about, and partially me attempting to counteract a cycle of criticism and attack when it comes to us Christians and what we believe vs. what we think our brothers or sisters believe. I'm not saying that rebuke and correction are wrong--they are most certainly a necessary part of doing life together and pressing one another closer to Christ--but there is also a time and a place for encouragement and exhortation. More often than you might think, correction and encouragement even go hand-in-hand. As for me, this letter is meant more as a public thank-you than a critique.}

Dear Switchfoot (a.k.a. Jon, Tim, Jerome, Chad, and Drew),

Guys, I just want to say thank you for sticking it out and continuing on a road that I know hasn't always (or ever?) been easy for all these years. Thank you for your unashamed honesty and vulnerable transparency through your music, interviews, concerts, etc. I haven't seen Fading West yet, but a couple days ago I was blessed to be able to see you in concert for the first time, here in Memphis. It was an awesome time, and more encouraging than I feel able to put into words. I've been listening to your music for the past ten or so years, and God's really used it at so many points in my life--sometimes to encourage, sometimes to convict, almost always to sharpen my focus on things. There is perhaps no more vulnerable position to be in than to pour out your heart to people who don't know you, to put your art out there where anyone can see/hear it, where more than a few can (and have) come away with a wrong impression of what you're striving to communicate. Thank you for being persistent in putting yourselves outside your comfort zones and daring to continue to be honest in your lives and your music.

I've listened to a lot of bands/artists over the years, but I have to say Switchfoot holds a unique role in my journey. The first song of y'all's I ever heard was "Dare You to Move," and when you played that one at the concert it took me back to so many moments it's been instrumental in--from the comforting and peaceful effect it had as the only familiar song coming over the radio to a nervous twelve-year-old in a doctor's office, to various moments waking up to it during high school and reminding me that "Today never happened before." I can't tell you how many times any one of your songs has pushed me to think through things more intentionally.

And I have to tell you that it hasn't always resulted in a better stance on my part. I must admit that for a season (specifically after I first bought and listened to Nothing Is Sound) I was really disheartened by your music, because it felt like you were emphasizing so much the darkness and the disconnect, the things so wrong with this world we live in--that you didn't have enough emphasis on the hope that exists on the flip-side of all that. I felt letdown, in a way (no pun intended), because it seemed to me that y'all had gotten overly cynical. At that point in my life, letdowns like that felt irreversible; I was under the impression that once someone I respected started to show signs of faltering, it was only the beginning of an inevitable, downward spiral.

But you see, that is exactly why you guys ended up with this unique and special role. I can't remember specifically which song or album I was listening to, but the moment still stands out in my memory, alone in my backyard with a portable CD player and a pair of headphones, gazing up into a starry sky and expressing to God my feelings disappointment. And He responded. He answered my despair with a gentle, loving rebuke: "So pray for them." It was no audible voice, and not even something that can necessarily completely fit into words, but He impressed on my heart that night a glimpse into the reality He has since been leading and training me in, that my position is not that of a helpless bystander, and that my job is not merely to applaud or disapprove of anyone else's actions (or music). That night was when God first started teaching me not to give up on people.

So I kept listening to Switchfoot. And I kept praying. And this has been one of the most significant instances in my life that I can point to and testify that prayer doesn't just change who or what you're praying for; it changes you. And more often than not, it's been my heart that needs to change, moreso than the circumstances I'm praying about. That's been the story of this journey with my encounter(s) with your music. I admit, I've been arrogant at times, judged myself capable of knowing where y'all's hearts were at through hearsay and a handful of song fragments; thinking I could guess your motives when I heard about your "going mainstream" and facing much of the same fierce debate and criticism Lecrae is presently wading through. But over and over again, God kept pressing me back to my knees about it. I didn't know exactly what I was praying for, what it would look like if and when those prayers were answered; I just knew that I wasn't allowed to throw my hands up and walk away. I knew that even when I didn't agree with every line of every song (and to be honest, there are still some I disagree with), it was not left to me to frown, condemn, and turn away.

Why? Because y'all are my brothers. 

I may not know you, may never have a conversation with any of you, but I am bound to you with blood that runs thicker than any merely-human blood ever could. Even if we don't see completely eye-to-eye on everything, even if we have completely different lifestyles and schedules and routines, we're all following the same King. We're all learning to walk out His love more truly day by day, seeing more and more clearly that, indeed, "Love alone is worth the fight." We're all learning to see ourselves and others more like He sees us and less like the world does. We're all in this thing together.

So thank you. Thank you for being honest in a world that pushes for fake images...for daring to walk a path of risk and adventure and discomfort...for pouring your hearts and lives out night after night to share your songs with strangers and friends alike...for demonstrating love in the face of animosity...for being humble in your honesty and down-to-earth in your presentation...for directing the loudest applause toward someone else...for speaking (and singing) the truth in love. After all these years, I have to say you guys have proven yourselves and your message by how you have walked it all out. Keep changing the world, one step, one song, one smile at a time. And know that I'm still in your corner, and still praying for you. Keep living it out!

For His glory,
-Kala

Notes on Music, Part 2: What Prayer Has to Do with It

I feel like I'm more or less stumbling through this series on music and worship. Despite my attempts to plan out the order of what to bring up when and how to arrange the topics of all that's been welling up within me and germinating for so long, it seems I just have to take things one step at a time and let it build upon itself as I go. Left to myself, I'd be prone to wander off and leave it unfinished, but God's not letting me off the hook with this one, and He keeps pressing things on my heart which inevitably force themselves out through typed words on a screen.

Words like prayer. 

I don't know what connotation that word has for you, but for me it pulls at the corners of my eyes and mouth as it stirs up memories of thousands of moments over the past few years of my life in which God has drastically altered and deepened my perspective on what prayer is, where its purpose lies, and why it's important. It's been a journey (one I'm more than a little certain is still far from over). Among all those moments that trace it are sprinkled tears...laughter...fear...joy...anguish...wonder...trust...timid faith...surrender...confidence...uncertainty...desperation...expectancy...awe...and triumph (and probably a lot more descriptors/emotions, but you get the idea). 

So what is prayer? The simplest definition is that it's a conversation. And I know I can't be the only one who's ever convinced myself with my flawed reasoning that there's no need to pray because God already knows what you're thinking, what you've done, and what will happen. It's true, He's all-knowing and fully aware of all that (so often much more aware than we even are). So maybe some other terminology will help clarify: prayer is communion. I know, I know--that's a religious term. But I think it gets to the heart of the matter a little better. See, prayer is more than just words. Sometimes prayer has no words; sometimes it's an internal groaning or longing or a song in your soul that can't even be put into melody. Sometimes it's an expression of things only He can understand. Sometimes it's a plea, sometimes a praise.

Prayer is where your heart, mind, and soul collide with God's. 

 So what does prayer have to do with worship? Everything. Prayer is worship. The point of prayer, ultimately, is worship. Because when your heart is laid bare before the One who made it, when you get a glimpse into His heart for you or for someone else, it results in worship. When you pour your thoughts out to Him and let His Word change the way you think and the way you reason, it inevitably drives you to a deeper adoration of the One whose thoughts will always be higher than yours. When your soul is engaged in His mission on this earth, your will surrendered to His, your eyes watching for His promises to be fulfilled--you experience His greatness on a deeper level, and it produces worship. 

Prayer changes things. I serve a God who is perfectly capable to do absolutely whatever He wants and who doesn't have to include us in any way at all to do it. And yet He chose to let us take part in His work. He didn't have to. He is perfectly able to be God. He's good at it. So good at it that He chose to work in this world in a way that no one but Him would ever have even considered. I mean, seriously, would you give somebody a job to do when you already knew they didn't have the ability to carry it out? Would you hire a preschooler as a college professor? A high-school dropout as a foreign diplomat? A teenage pop singer as a war general? We as people look for the most highly qualified to fill a position. But God takes a position only He can fill--the role of representing Him in this earth--and chooses to use broken, helpless human beings who are utterly incapable of doing anything without Him (He supplies us with the very air we breathe, for crying out loud!). Are we a perfect representation of what He's like? Not even close. Which is how we become an even more perfect demonstration of who He is. 

You see, if I could be perfect by my own willpower or ability or know-how, I wouldn't need to know God, much less depend on Him. If being His representative on this earth meant that I never failed or faltered or in any way fell short of His excellence, nobody would ever see His power, His glory, or His redemption. Because if that were the case, people wouldn't see Him; they'd just see me, being perfect. If I never wronged anyone, no one would be able to glimpse God changing my heart and causing me to come back to them asking forgiveness. If my feelings were never hurt by another's words or actions, no one would see the fingerprint of His forgiveness in my life. If I never failed, no one would see the story of His grace in my life, redeeming my failures and proving God's might in my life as He enables me to overcome. If I never had to wrestle with sin, there would be no victory over it. And if I could walk this life out perfectly all by myself, nobody would ever glimpse the incredible beauty of the Church as one Body made up of many members and parts, working together, forgiving one another, helping each other, serving one another as we all serve Him.

Prayer emphasizes our dependence on God. It reminds our souls of their position: unworthy but loved, helpless but empowered by His Spirit, finite in the presence of the One who is infinite, broken but in the hands of the One who makes all things new. It reminds us Whose we are, draws us to worship, and sets our lives on a trajectory of accomplishing His will in this earth. 

Ever notice how often praying for God to change someone or something around you more often results in Him changing you? In a way that's central to much of what I have to say in upcoming posts. When we hear terms like revival or think of God's intentions for this world, we have a tendency to think in terms of others. We zoom out to a larger scale, of how much better life would be if other people would conform to His will. What we (myself very much included) so often fail to consider is the fact that when it comes down to it, no one really wants to be left on the sidelines as an onlooker while all the action happens, do we? If everyone around you experienced the transforming power of the Gospel in ways that turned their lives upside down in the best possible way and sent them running hard after God, living for His glory...would you want to be on the outside looking in? I know I don't. I want to be in the middle of the action. And that's where all of us--each and every one of us, if you call yourself by His Name--are meant to be.

We get to participate in His plans for this world and how they play out. 

God didn't give you a front-row seat to the big game. He chose you to play on His team. It's not all about you, nor is it meant to be, but you are meant to be a part of it. And that too, should lead us straight into worship of the One whom it is all about. 

Prayer increases faith. When you ask God to do something, you're also placing your dependence on Him. You're placing your trust in His ability to cause everything in your life to work together for your good and His glory in the end. You're placing your hope in His love and faithfulness. You're placing your faith in Him even when you can't wrap your mind around how things could possibly work out. You're submitting your will to His and acknowledging that He knows better than you do how things should go. The more your heart and mind gradually become transformed to look more like His, the more your prayers will start to look like His (yes, God Himself prays for you.). And when you see prayer answered? It leads to worship. 

It feels appropriate to finish this post with a song, yet again. Not sure if this will become a pattern for this series, but this song pretty well sums up the desire and purpose of our hearts being made to look more like our King's:

Entering the Battle (Notes on Music: Part 1)

I mean that title. But before I get into it, let me tell you what I don't mean by it. I don't mean I'm looking for trouble or I'm planning to be antagonistic about all this. I don't mean I'm wanting to start some kind of debate. By nature, I am a shy, sheepish person who doesn't particularly like stirring up hornets' nests. But beneath the surface there is a fire, a burning passion that somehow can't sit still and watch all the time, and leave things the way they are. I'm aware that some of the things I have to say in upcoming posts are not going to be popular, and they might make you feel uncomfortable, or offended, or uncertain. I'm not asking you to agree with every word I say or every facet of opinion I hold regarding art or music or the music industry or even our culture. You don't have to agree with me. In fact, you don't even have to read it.

But I have to write it. I have to write it because it has been welling up inside me for so long and the dam's about to break if I try to put it off longer. I have to write it because I can't keep silent any longer, because there is a battle going on over this and because this battle I've been fighting silently for years now is surfacing, and the same God who at other times has miraculously enabled me to keep my mouth shut is now opening it. I honestly still don't feel like I'm ready for this, but perhaps I need that edge of incapability to force me to approach this humbly and not with arrogance.

Now let me explain a little more about the battle aspect. As KJ52 put it in a song, "See, the battle's for souls, and we['re] on the front lines." When it all boils down, the heart of the matter is not our music or our taste or our opinions; it's about a war that's been waging longer than any of us have been alive, and the victories in that battle take place when the God of the universe brings people from death into life. It's not about our music. But it influences our music, and music can play a role in this battle. Part of the reason this topic is so close to my heart is how influential music has been in my own story of God bringing me from death into life.

Music communicates. It does so differently than other modes of communication: it's not always as clear as writing or as straightforward as speaking. On some levels, music is its own language, conveying moods, ideas, themes, feelings, and heart-cries even when there are no words accompanying it. It serves a function, because there aren't always words, and sometimes our words need something to drive them home to the listener's heart. And music can do that.

God created music for a reason. And at the core of that reason is the same purpose He created everything else for: His glory. Because He needs stars and planets and people and all of creation testifying to his goodness to make Him feel secure in His position? No. Because He is that good. Because He is the only One worthy of such worship; nothing and no one else compares to Him, nor ever will.

If we're going to get into talking about things like love and God's glory and worship, we may need to pause here to bring up something that is at once impossible to fully explain or comprehend for our finite minds, but which is central and crucial to the why and the how of it all: the Trinity. You cannot fully explain or understand the love of God if you don't understand this truth about who He is: that He Himself sets the example of love not being self-seeking (1 Cor. 13). God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit: One God. I know, on the surface it makes about as much sense as your math teacher telling you 3=1. But then again, it's not the only time the Bible defies our math textbooks: He also said that husband and wife become "one flesh" (2=1), remember?

So the moral of the story is to throw away your algebra book, because it obviously doesn't line up with what the Bible teaches, right? (Friends who are math majors--please don't stone me for saying that!) Of course not. The Bible is full of math. The point here both is and isn't the math. It is, because the Trinity (and marriage, for that matter) stands out as a stark reminder to us that our God is much, much bigger and greater than we will ever be able to fully know. That's why He's God, and we're not. I for one don't have the capacity to keep the earth spinning around the sun, hold every molecule together, and orchestrate the events and interwoven stories and struggles of every person on this earth in this moment. I can't even fully grasp all that He is at work in, from sunsets to flowers to providing birds with food to eat.

Back to the Trinity: this is the epitome of love that seeks another's gain. The Father, Son, and Spirit have been in constant unity and fellowship since before time began. The Father's love for the Son and the Spirit, the Son's love for the Spirit and the Father, the Spirit's love for the Father and the Son...who can adequately describe it? See, God's not after His own glory for the sake of making a name for Himself; His Name already stood, unshakably and undeniably, long before He made anything to testify of it. Everything that exists finds its purpose in proclaiming His glory, because He is more glorious than even all creation's worship can proclaim. He is greater than all we see, all we have seen, all we ever will.

"For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen." 

-Romans 11:36

This is at the heart of the battle that started when a created being who was not worthy of such worship, tried to claim God's glory as his own. Captivated by his own light, he rebelled against its Source: the One who had made him and given him everything he was, everything he had, everything he was now trying to elevate above his Maker. Lucifer fell, along with all who followed him. And the story could have ended there, before this world knew the sting of death and the pain of sin. But there was a greater glory that would not have been seen or known or even guessed at, had God stomped out Satan when he first rebelled. As Switchfoot put it, "The shadow proves the sunshine." The darkness is itself evidence of the light's existence, and that there is something standing between that light and the patch of ground that's shaded. But darkness always loses out to the light. 

There was a greater glory to be displayed in our God's faithfulness to people who also rebelled against Him, who ran from Him, who failed time and again (ahem, still do) to see and sing of His glory. He has proven Himself stronger than our darkness in His ability to call us "into His marvelous light," so that we may proclaim His greatness and His glory. 

The greater glory is known as the Gospel. The good news. The fulfilled promise, that our God did not leave us as orphans, that He did not leave us broken, empty, chasing the tails of our own glory. This is the fulfillment of what we were created for: to know and to sing of the glory of the One who made us. The greater-ness of our God, who overcomes everything that would stand between Him and accomplishing His purposes in this earth to display the greater glory.

And this is the battle. And music plays a part. In the posts that follow this one, I'm not going to claim what all music should or should not look like. But I'm also not going to pull any punches and say that "art for art's sake" is okay. The purpose of our music, just like the purpose of our lives, should be the praise of His glory. And there's not one set way to do that. But we'll get into all that at a later date. =) For now, I leave you with this song to ponder how much bigger our God is than we will ever fully understand. 

Speaking the Truth in Love

Oh, if you could but see the drafts of blog posts I have scattered in between ones I've actually published on here, on the topic I now find myself preparing to step into. One dates back to almost two years ago, when I had it on my heart, but after starting to write, found that the time was not yet right for me to speak up. Ever have those moments, where you have your two-cents'-worth ready to throw out there, but it seems like God sort of clears His throat and tells you, "Not yet"? And no matter how much you really want to say something, you know He's right and His timing is best, and that it wouldn't be walking in obedience to Him to go on with what you were about to say...Yeah, that's about where I've been on this topic for the past two or three years now. I haven't been silent for lack of an opinion, though there's definitely also been some wading through things and some research and a LOT of prayer going into it.

See, this is something that I am incredibly passionate about, and have been for just about as long as I can remember. And because it hits so very close to home for me, it's been a real struggle at times to keep my mouth shut and my fingers still. Most of the time, it doesn't really come up in everyday conversation that much, but even when the opportunity has presented itself, there have been so many moments where I've been chomping at the bit but God has (very wisely) held me back. And at the time, I don't think I ever understood why He was having me wait. But, as usual, hindsight reveals things with so much more clarity, and I now know it's because this crazy heart of mine had to be worked on (a. lot.) before I could say what I wanted to. Why? Because while my mouth was so ready to spout my opinion, my heart was not in the right place. And that's where this post comes in.

As I confessed in my last post, for quite a while I suffered from a judgmental-ness that kept me from acknowledging God's ability to move on other people's hearts. So He had to show me by moving on mine. He had to show me a glimpse of His heart, to help me see beyond the legalistic boxes and categories I wanted to place things--and people--into. See, it doesn't take much to speak the truth. Anyone can do it, really, whether they believe it or not (more on that coming in a later post, I'm sure). Trouble is, when you try to separate truth from love, you usually wind up with something that doesn't really look much like truth, because it's only a broken off piece of the Truth. Ever heard someone take a Bible verse out of context? The verse is still true, but snatched out of its context, it can be distorted to where it somehow seems to communicate something it's never meant. It's the same with the truth, with fact.

Take one portion of truth--let's say, for example, the truth that "God is love" (1 John 4)--and remove it from its context (namely, the description of what love is in 1 Corinthians 13 or in 1 and 2 John, or that it's a fruit of the Spirit [Galatians 5:22] or how essential it is in the Christian's life as seen in Ephesians, etc.)...and you've got room to start twisting it any way you like. Leave out the context and the defining that context offers to this statement, and you can start warping "God is love" to mean that God is a cozy or satisfying feeling or that, if He's love, He obviously somehow can't hate anything (*cough* sin). See what I mean? With its context (the rest of the Bible), the statement "God is love" is made that much clearer because it's demonstrated and shown and defined in and by the rest of the Truth. More than that, the rest of the Truth speaks to confront misconceptions and correct them. (God does hate sin.)

So now let's talk about love. Real love doesn't puff itself up, doesn't say, "Hey! Look at me!" Why? Because love is being focused on someone else, to the exclusion of yourself and your own desires and even needs. Love doesn't envy or boast--why? Because it's not wrapped up in itself, comparing self with others or wanting another to be lower so it can be higher. Love seeks after what's best for another. That doesn't mean love wants someone else to always have their way and get everything they want, because in the case of us humans, that would not be, or result in, what's best for us. Love wants what God wants for others. Why? Because God is Love.

(And if you're looking at your screen right now with a confused frown, questioning with, "Wait, I thought you just said love is being focused on what somebody else wants"--this is where part of the awesome mystery and marvel known as the Trinity comes into play. Take a gander at John 17 for a peek into that as Jesus talks to the Father. Jesus is always focused on glorifying the Father who is always focused on exalting His Son who is always focused on the Holy Spirit having His way, who is always drawing the attention to the Father and the Son. It's mind-blowing, but such a beautiful expression of what "God is love" means. But I'll stop with that tangent for now.)

So when Paul tells us in Ephesians chapter 4 that we as Christians are to speak the truth in love as we grow into Christ together--what does that mean? It means I speak the truth to you in patience and kindness, not arrogantly. It means I don't speak the truth to you in order to put you down or try to elevate myself. It means I don't speak the truth to you without caring about you (rudely). It means I don't speak the truth to you out of selfish ambition (to manipulate you into doing what I want or to promote myself). It means I don't get to insist on having my own way, and I don't get to use the truth to try to make that happen. It means I don't speak the truth to you because I'm grumpy or irritated or am harboring resentment towards you. It means that I don't get to rejoice in your being wrong and my being right, even if that's the case. It means I don't just tell you the truth, but I rejoice with you in that truth. It means that when I speak the truth to you, I am ready to bear everything alongside you rather than leave you to go it alone. It means I have to believe in that truth with you, and stand with you to endure whatever you may face. It means I don't get to tell you something and move on with my life. It means we're in this together. It means that if I'm going to speak the truth to you, I have to be committed to loving you, regardless of how you respond to what I say.

Discovering that has been the journey I've been on for quite a while now--the journey I had to travel before I could be ready to open my mouth about the things coming up in future posts here...Stay tuned. And while you're waiting, dig in deep and ask God to teach you how to love in truth and how to speak the truth in love. We all need to keep learning that one.

Until next time,
-Kala

There's a Battle Going on Here

I'm going to attempt to keep this short, because it's really too big a subject for me to dive into in one solo post, but perhaps this one will turn into an intro of sorts and I can return to the subject at a later date and go more in depth.

But there is a battle going on, and it reaches into many, many facets of our lives. Heaven and hell are vying for men's souls, and the war infiltrates every medium of communication, and even art, that we have. One area in particular that's been highlighted for me in recent years, is music.

Again, I am doing my best to keep this brief tonight, as this is something I've been thinking and praying about for quite a while now, so there's a lot I want to say, but now's not the time for all of it. I don't know how many people underestimate the power of music in our lives, but there shouldn't be any who can. At least here in America, where we have such a wide variety of music available right at our fingertips (or headphones), music is one thing that impacts us in ways many other means of communication can't. Words are powerful, don't miss that. But music has a way of aiding words' message, or even speaking on its own apart from words, that hits our hearts.

And I believe there is a battle going on in the arena of music. I'll be honest and say that although I have a very wide range of the types of musical style that I like--from instrumental to hip-hop to pop and folk and so forth--what I choose and prefer to listen to is generally within the ranges of "Christian" music. I put it in quotes because I've got a bit of an opinion on the labeling--because not everything that labels itself as "Christian" lines up at all with what Scripture or even Christ Himself says. I've grown up listening to largely contemporary "Christian" music, including more than a few songs that I wouldn't necessarily recommend to anyone now but that at the time were instrumental in getting my heart where it needed to be for God to work in it. The beauty I find in that is that we serve a God who is bigger than doctrinal flaws in lyrics and human flaws in general, and who is more than able to speak through the broken vessels that we all are.

When I first began to be aware that not all "Christian" music was entirely wholesome or entirely in-line with actual Christianity, the zealous hard-line prophet within me wanted to denounce any artist who had even one song or one line in a song I didn't agree with. I allowed myself to become focused upon the flaws and grieved over issues that, while not unimportant, never should have been my central focus. I became very judgmental about music. And it was in the midst of that judgmental season, where I was ready to completely give up on any artist whose doctrine seemed shallow or unfounded, that God nudged me and questioned my line of thinking.

These were my brothers and sisters in Christ that I was denouncing, acting as if one flaw or lack of understanding or a "correct" stance in my eyes, was enough to mean there was no hope that anything good could come from them from then on. All around me, I was seeing artists I had once respected falling short and failing to keep either their music or their lives in line with the teachings of Scripture. And I was giving up on them, left and right, clinging to the few who had yet to let me down.

But in the midst of my ranting and my disappointment, God posed a very pointed question to my soul: "So what are you doing about it?" As one of His followers, was I called to abandon my brothers and sisters taking on the spiritual battle (knowingly or not) in the arena of music? Or was I rather called to desire for them to be drawn closer to Him and made stronger by Him? Was I called to focus upon their flaws and say that because of this or that they couldn't possibly be used by Him?

I reeled back in shock as He reminded me of several songs and artists that had deeply impacted me only a few short years before, even if some of them had since lost my loyalty or respect. In the moments I needed to hear that particular message, it was there, and God used even flawed and imperfect lyrics and, yes, even trite music styles, to bring my heart to its knees and bring me to a place of surrender where I not only realized my need of Him, but His willingness to be the answer to that need.

Perhaps I'm rambling by now, but what is on my heart tonight to say is this: I have realized I am called to cheer for my brothers and sisters in Christ, to lift them in prayer whether I agree with everything they say or do or not. Can I endorse or applaud artists who hit the mark, whose lives and music are so evidently shining with the Light of the Gospel and the testimony of lives transformed by grace? Absolutely. But I no longer feel at liberty to put down those I don't admire as much or write them off the moment I hear something in their lyrics that grieves me. That's not what I'm called to. I'm called to forgive, and to hope and even expect the best for them. I'm called to pray rather than ignore, to look not to man but to God to accomplish His purposes in us and to draw all our hearts--musician and listener alike--closer to His.

More to come at some point regarding some more specific testimonies of how God's been driving this into me, but for now, hear me on this:

    There is a battle going on.
     We do not wrestle with flesh and blood.
    The victory is in the hand of the Lord.
    He's never lost a battle yet.
    There are greater things ahead on the music scene than any we've seen yet.
    Our God is on the move.

RAK KHAZAK. Be strong.

Let's Be Dreamers

For as long as I can remember, I've been a dreamer. I've been able to look at something as-is, and see what could come of it, what it could turn into or become part of. The first evidences of this trait didn't bless my mom much--all kinds of crafts made of things like gum wrappers, toilet-paper tubes, leaves, and anything else I found ways to create things with. As I've grown older, it hasn't gone away; I see what most people look on as useless junk, and can often envision at least a couple good uses for it. It's the reason for a drawer in my room that holds what I term "useful stuff," but it also comes from something that runs much deeper in my soul.

We serve a God who looks at ruined and broken souls that have been completely crippled to the point of being worthless--and sees the plans He's had for us since before the world began. He did not create us to be wrecks or failures, and He is not discouraged when He sees us in our most depraved state. Why? Because He is in the business of bringing beauty out of ashes, of redeeming what seems long-gone and utterly lost, of creating again that which He has purposed for us all along. I know that because I've seen Him do it, in me and in others.

So forgive me if I get a little irritated when people try to tell me or anybody else that any of us possess any kind of beauty or power on our own, because when I came face-to-face with my Savior I also came face-to-face with the reality that He saw me at my ugliest and my weakest and my most hopeless, and He had still been pursuing me all along. He wasn't blind to my shortcomings and my sin; He knew (and knows) me better than I'll ever know or understand myself. But neither was He intimidated by my darkness.

You see, no matter how much it ever seems like the odds are stacked against redemption or hope, there has never been a moment where Light has lost to Darkness. Ever noticed that? Flip the light switch on, and you don't have to wait for the darkness in the room to retreat; the fight is over in an instant, because light trumps darkness. Even where there are shadows, they're usually not pitch dark, because the light reflects and refracts off of other things around and lightens even the shade (which is how you can still get a sunburn sitting in the shade on a sunny day). If you ask me, there is great significance to the fact that God compares Himself to light in the Bible. He is greater than every force of evil this world will ever know.

That being said, it would be easy for Him to snap His fingers and obliterate all evil in an instant, so why doesn't He? Because He has a much bigger and more beautiful design in mind, and because He sees potential where we don't.

I love rooting for the underdog. There is perhaps nothing more inspiring and victorious than seeing the most unlikely odds flipped on their head. And our God is in the business of doing just that sort of things. Let the odds be stacked against His plans; let darkness seem to gain the upper hand in the lives of man; let a turnaround look about as impossible as water springing up in the desert. We and even all creation look at that dry, cracked, crumbling ground and say it's a wasteland; nothing can grow there; there's no hope for life to happen here.

Enter the God who says He'll make rivers break forth in a dry and barren land (Isaiah 35) and flowers blossom in the desert wasteland. It's what He does: He brings life where before was only death. He takes lives ravaged and ruined by sin and breathes life into them, creating again a clean heart inside and reversing death's hold. He's not intimidated by the insurmountable odds we see; His vantage point is higher, and He sees the real odds: the odds that say darkness will never win out against Light when they come up against one another. He is stronger.

So in light of who He is and what He is capable of, how can we look at this world and say it's hopeless? Do you know your God? Do you know that He is aiming at redemption? Do you know that He's chosen you and me to be part of that process? If you ask me, it's amazing.

So let's not be afraid to dream. Let's not be intimidated by the darkness; let's instead lift our eyes to the Author of Light and ask Him to give us His vision for what is to come out of this desert land. And let's not shield our eyes or avert our gaze from the places--the hearts--overshadowed by darkness. Let's not pretend they're not there or that it's not our problem. If you are a child of the King, you are called to shine His light. Reflect it into that darkness. Let's not cower in fear of the darkness, giving into the apparent odds that it will swallow us too. If you have been rescued and redeemed, His Light lives in you. He is with you. And He will not be beaten. So don't fear--follow Him into the darkest dens of Hell on this earth and let His light shine until every shadow disappears. You may feel like one lonely and fleeting matchstick. Well, fire tends to spread. So burn bright.

Let's not be afraid to hope. Don't look at the situations and relationships you face and allow despair to overtake you. Look to the One who saw you at your worst and never turned away. Look to the One who never gave up on this mess, never saw my failure as proof He couldn't use me--the One who knew all along that He is more than enough for me and more than capable of somehow taking my brokenness and inability and using it for His glory, using it to draw me to Himself and show me how much I need to rely on Him and not myself.

I get sick of people cheering others on with things like, "Believe in yourself!" and "You can do it!" because the longer I live the more inescapably convinced I become of the fact that I am absolutely incapable of doing anything good or right on my own. I can't tell you how many times I've been talking to God and paused a moment to look at my own track record--a long line of mess-ups and failures and even well-intentioned blunders--and then at His track record--unending faithfulness and grace that is greater than all my sin, that is actually capable of taking all my failures and using them for good in a way only He can. He has taught me through every season, and drawn me closer to Him even in the midst of the worst storms.

I am a firm believer in the fact that I can't do anything good on my own. But I'm a firmer believer that God can do greater things in and through you and me than we can even imagine. I'm a firmer believer in His ability to redeem and restore and bring life from death, water and flowers from the desert wasteland. His Light shines into the darkness, and will not be overcome.

So let's not be afraid to believe Him, to believe in His ability to do what we cannot--that He can redeem what is lost, He can remake what is broken, He can bring life out of death.

"For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that overcomes the world--our faith." -1 John 5:4

Let your faith look to Him. Rak khazak!!

Plans

Lately, I've been in or around quite a few conversations in which someone (sometimes myself) has said, "I don't know what it's gonna look like." And, believe it or not, those words have been deeply encouraging to me.

You see, I have grown up amid a culture that preached to me continually the importance of having a plan. When I was in high school, I was told I needed to set goals for myself, both short-term and long-term. I needed to have clear aims to focus on, self-imposed "deadlines," so-to-speak. Because, if you don't have a plan and don't know where you're going, you're obviously not going to get anywhere or do anything worthwhile with your life...right?

I struggled with this because at that time I honestly didn't know what my future was going to look like. There were a lot of things I could see myself doing as a job, but when it came to choosing what to pursue, I felt completely at a loss. Adults in my life told me it was okay to not have a clear picture just yet, as I still had several more years to figure it out before going to college and picking a major, etc.

But then something incredible happened. Just as I was starting to formulate my short-term goals for what would happen once I graduated college, God intervened. He started to nudge me down a different path than anything I had ever considered. As I walked a little hesitantly down this new path that started with putting college off for a year to attend Ellerslie, I tasted for the first time the sheer bliss of having only a general sense of what God was about to do in my life. I knew He had been clear that this was where and how I was supposed to spend the next few months (actually, at the time I thought I would be there for a full year), but as for what it would look like, I had no clue nor any way to predict it. Ellerslie was just starting up the summer I went there; there was no predicting just what was going to happen with students from all over coming to this tiny town in Colorado with the goal of pursuing Christ together.

Since that summer, it seems every major step I've taken--and even the smaller steps, too--have followed a very similar pattern of knowing where God was leading me but not having any kind of a clear or easily-articulated picture of what it was going to look like. And over and over again, I've seen God work in amazing ways, doing more than I ever could have imagined. His thoughts aren't like ours; He sees the big picture, as well as every tiny and minute detail that goes into it. Consequently, His ways are different than ours--they're higher; they're better (Isaiah 55:8). And they tend to look crazy or even a little more than crazy in the eyes of the world, because they don't follow the same line of thinking as our limited point of view. His plans often cause us to take risks--risks that don't make sense, even to us at times. But they always cause us to rely on Him more and in ways that we wouldn't otherwise.

And that is why I get excited when I hear someone talking about starting something new or doing things differently, and those words, "I don't know what it's going to look like exactly," come out of that person's mouth: because in those words I recognize a sense of willingness to let God take the lead and orchestrate the steps in carrying out whatever dream or desire or "goal" the person may be talking about. It's in those times where where we don't know exactly what will happen next or what something is about to look like--what an idea will look like when it's actually being lived out--that our faith grows and our hearts begin to taste the deep joy of allowing God to have all there is of us.

"The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps." -Proverbs 16:9