i want, i need...

i wish for things that i don't need
all i wanted
and what i chase won't set me free
all i wanted

sympathy, the goo goo dolls

each day as i awake and clumsily dismount my bed (i never stick my landing), there's one thing i want and one thing i need....coffee!! at least i am conditioned to think so. funny, i never drank coffee in the morning until i was 27 yrs old. but now, i wonder, at times, how did i live without it? this is not a post about caffeine addiction, so please, just keep reading.

i went to see a friend the other day. it had probably been about 5 years since we had seen each other. he was in prison serving time for a string of bad choices that he now regretted deeply. as i walked down the long bright white corridor, then though a series of locks and doors, my mind was racing. what do i say when i see him? what would i do if i were in here? what would he look like? how awful this place must be. what if there's a riot and i get taken hostage? real and crazy thoughts.

after the last lock buzzed, the heavy thick steel door released with a loud metallic pop. i winced. i walked over to the glass counter and sat down. my friend was sitting on the other side, we reached for our phones a the same time and began a conversation. the last time we had talked was at the church we both attend. this time was very different; a fact not lost on either of us. after some small talk i simply asked, "jeff, what happened" he told me, in not so specific detail, that he had made some horrible choices and he got caught up in chasing the wrong things in life. he was embarassed and he was sorry. yet, he was hopeful about starting anew when he would be released in about 18 months. we talked awhile longer, prayed, said our goodbyes and hung up the phones. he was escorted back to his cell and i was escorted out of the prison, free.

i had been making a pastoral visit, but my friend was the preacher that day. qoheleth...ecclesiastes...the preacher; out of a sober reality, stark and austere, he spoke ancient truth from his present-day circumstances. looking for pleasure, for happiness, he had chased the wind and caught nothing. he spoke experientially and i listened. words meant for cleansing. words of repentance.

i wish for things that i don't need...and what i chase won't set me free

"on, on," is the beck and call each day, but who is speaking to you? me? what are you and i chasing? have our wants, desires, fears and/or lusts taken the reigns of our souls or is the gentle shepherd leading? writer sarah young has written, "the only thing we can grasp without damaging our soul is god's hand." and really, if we are not distracted by our own stuff, it is god who takes hold of our hands (isaiah 41:13). I think the basic posture of a christ-follower is one with hands open, ready to recieve (psalm 90) with our eyes on the master's hands (psalm 123), instead of hands reaching, trying to grab needless things; things that belie freedom and decievingly enslave.

you and i may not be pursuing the kind of things that landed my friend in jail, but we all have the propensity to chase the wind. lord knows, i have and at times, still do, reach for things that will not satisfy and long for things that can end up doing harm. i am needy and prone to be misguided when trusting in my own understanding. so in his lovingkindness, the lord sends qoheleth in my path, the little preachers in my circumstances and situations to sober me and turn my wandering heart toward him. goodness and mercy stalking my path.

it is jesus, his words and way, that set us free in this life and the next. lord, help my hands ever and always to be reaching for you, alone.

seeking simplicity

we are grown but cannot see

lost our world of make believe

simple times now seem so far

used to be in my backyard

yeah, the world was still in my backyard

we are okay, joshua radin

when i was a young boy, the world was wide and wondrous. i grew up near a lake and woods and i played in and around them most every day. i spent a great deal of time with my friends rusty and david. they were brothers and they lived on the lake. their front, side and back yards were huge! their back yard sloped down, it seemed for miles, to the lake. their side yard was covered in kudzu and also sloped down to a wooded cove that led into a deepr wood. we spent so much time exploring these magical areas, teeming with plant and animal life that was familiar, yet thrilling, even exotic, when stumled upon: frogs, lizards, worms, bugs and fish, even the occaisional snake! cottontails, beaverdams, blackberries and tall pines scattered and clustered in and around the coves and curves of the lakeshore.


every day was discovery and imagination working the wonder out in young boy minds that knew the time-told stories related in more structured and closed environments, our homes, school and churches. but here, around the lake and in the woods behind rusty and david's house, we pretended and we lived them out. daniel boone tracking through the cumberland gap, a trail leading from our woods to the lake. the alamo, a hastily built fort of small logs and rocks. moses in the wilderness, we planted and pushed from our carefully selected stick-staffs, following a puffy white cloud in a blue carolina sky. david and goliath, choosing smooth stones near a creek bed to throw and sling at behemoth trees. we fought every war our mother country had endured in those woods and on the shores. we took sack lunches and traded sandwiches; pioneer food and last meals on a deserted island. it was pilgrims landing and explorer's blazing and never was any day the same as the one before. the world was so big and yet we still made it back to their backyard before supper, before dark. a world of make believe, so real to me.


i like to listen to joshua radin's music. he is another of the singer-songwriters who craft their art around the everyday and common experience of us all. he is a gifted poet with a boyish voice and folksy style, a la paul simon. radin's song, we are okay, takes me back to the world i knew that extended from rusty and david's backyard. the lake and woods seemed boundless then, limited only by my imagination which ran full and free. and like in radin's song, i can identify with having lost our world of make believe. when did it happen? i'm in the midst of my fifth decade of life and the realities therein can be all too stark, indifferent at best and harrowing at their worst. daily duties and demands often dull a once vibrant imagination. life is difficult. life is complex.

so the boy who once fought every evil foe imaginable in the tall woods around a lake, now fights the complexity of life, ever seeking the simplicity of younger years. sometimes, sheepishly, i avoid the fight all-together, but most of the time i cannot, and i find myself battling in the midst and through the complexity and confusion of a world that has lost its way. this fight is not for the faint of heart and i confess, i am prone to be afraid at times. it seems to me that radin speaks to this in the chorus of the song,

But, we are okay, we are alright we sing very loud, yeah, we're singing we are okay, we are alright close our eyes, close our mouth yeah, we shut our eyes though we're in doubt.

i understand his sentiment; at times i do it, but such response feels no more assuring to me than whistling in the dark. in life's fight, i am learning that i need all my faculties and senses about me. we are grown but cannot see. a war is going on each day and the enemy is subtle, wily and seductive. each inch of ground, each soul of humanity is at stake in this world. needing great courage to stay in it, and a guiding helper to not be of it, i cannot close my eyes. instead, i must fix them intently on the one who saves me in the fight and ultimately out of the fight. he is the savior! he is jesus christ. and in him the complexity of a sinful world disintegrates and the simplicity of the life he gives opens my eyes and heart to his brilliant glory. i often find myself lost in wonder, love and praise. a foretaste of a grace-given life to come.

so, i press on through the complexity of a world that futily tries to darken the shine of the glorious light. the darkness and drabness is real and expansive. yet moments come without warning and the wild light breaks through in captivating radiance and the simple wonder returns. in the light i discover simple faith. simple hope. simple love.

I would not give a fig for the simplicity this side of complexity, but I would give my life for the simplicity on the other side of complexity.- Oliver Wendell Holmes

the wonder and thrill of my younger years that i found with my friends just beyond their backyard was simple and meaningful, the raw material of who i am becoming. however, those experiences and memories had to be confronted by the crucible of a warring and complex world. when they met, i admit, i lost the wonder and my imagination dulled and began to decay. but the redeemer of my days, my life, my soul, reached down and touched me, saved me from myself and the power of this world. now with eyes wide open, i continue in the battle, each day one day closer to simplicity the other side of complexity. wonder and imagination returning and pointing me to his presence. and so, i'm seek the simplicity found in jesus in this world. it's not the make believe variety of my youth. no, this is real life led by him with glimpses of a world to come.

wonder and poetry

just one thing is clear to me

there's always more than what appears to

And when the light's just right

I swear I see poetry

poetry, pat green

i remember before i went to seminary, there were so many things i was sure of in life. even my opinions were pretty darn close to the truth! or so i thought. his living word, his mercy and grace, my loving wife, my wonderful children, close friends and circumstances in my life, have all, since, lovingly conspired to soften my dogmatic tendencies and create a wider berth for mystery and wonder. i am thankful.

really, most days i struggle to explain things around me. i tend to stick to the safe and obvious. i'm moses among sheep, unaware, dull and thick. then the simple and amazing will happen and i blunder into seeing it unfold. this happened yesterday as i called a friend who had recently lost his 96 year old mother. he was up north at her home at the time. he had been praying for her salvation for years. he asked others to pray, too. and his mother didn't want to hear about jesus, no sir. she had lost a daughter early in her life and was closed off to any so-called deity who would let her daughter die. she carried that for these many years and here's my friend telling me this on the phone and i'm thinking to myself, oh this is awful - his mother had died an unbeliever. i was trying to come up with something comforting to say and i could not think of a thing.

then he tells me that a few days before she passes, she realizes she is terminally ill and in that moment, he tells her the story of jesus and how he had saved him. when he finishes, she tells him that she believes that, she believes in jesus as her savior. and as he tells me i feel a genuine joy and amazement and i laugh and say praise the lord and laugh again in astonishment.

i had put his mother in the out of touch and unreachable category in my mind. i knew how these things turned out. but the holy spirit had opened up her eyes to the truth, just days before she died at the age of 96. i have no other explanation than, well, that's god. i hung up the phone and sat back in my chair and just stared out the window at the church door where i serve. i just shook my head and laughed and said praise the lord, praise you lord. his ways are not mine.

near the end of the day of working through stuff and issues with various degrees of direct relevance to god, i see the wonder of our savior saving a 96 year old saint, who had written him off long ago and i had written off in a matter of minutes. the big ol' mystery was leaning right in on me at that moment, light beaming in through my window and to me, it was poetry.

each day he speaks the poetry. the very fact that i rise to recognize a new day is because he has spoken his prose. i am ever responding to my creator, my savior, my guide. i am learning to hear his three part harmony above the din of nullifying noise. my ear is trained by the word. i am stilled in an ever-moving world to know he is over all things in my life and this world working redemptively through his son, jesus christ. in the natural, glimpses of the supernatural: common bushes afire. clinging to the cleft, i have no explanation. i take off my shoes and listen to the poetry.

body and soul

I want to live where soul meets body,

And let the sun wrap its arms around me

And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing

And feel, feel what its like to be new

soul meets body, death cab for cutie

in this life, each one of us has a soul and body. philosophers often debate whether we are dichotomist in nature; basically, possessing a material body and an immaterial soul. or, as others posit, we are essentially trichotomist; we possess a material body, an immaterial soul and an immaterial intellect, mind or heart. honestly, to me both views have their merits and i am not smart enough to argue either side, not to mention that such existential wrangling eventually loses me in the house of mirrors of my mind and i am quickly confused, bewildered and given to great tired-headedness (not a word), wanting desperately to escape.

the material side of life is well known. we all have bodies. carbon-based containers for the reductionists and for the singers and poets, sculpted forms, unique and beautiful, almost like gods, but a little less. our bodies grow and change. some parts wear out, some become diseased and must be cut upon or cut out. eventually, though, our bodies wear out and return to their seminal state, dust.

the immaterial part of life is more mystery. it is evident in its effects and affects, but unlike our body, it cannot be seen with eyes nor touched with hands. however, it is no less present. it can be measured and experienced, but in much different ways than the body, the material. to take from the reductionists, the immaterial can be simply stated as our personality. but it is more. that which is essentially and uniquely you and me. living souls. the immaterial part can change also, but it does not die.

last monday night, i stood with a dear family around the body of their elderly mother/grandmother, saint. she had just died. her body was motionless, becoming cold. i spoke in soft tones to the family members. they spoke of love, of memories of their dear one. i read from the bible. we cried some. we prayed. i reminded them that her soul was now in the presence of her saviour, jesus. the hope of joy in the midst of being bereft. we found comfort in that truth. but her body remained before us and it was clear that death was present. the animation of the soul, spirit, was absent.

it seems odd, even to me, that in the gravity of describing this stark event about a real person and her family experiencing death, i speak of the song, soul meets body by death cab for cutie. at the risk of sounding macabre (it is not, in any way, my intention) at worst and just plain awkward at best, i want to sing the line i want to live where the soul meets body. a desire, a plea to live this life as a whole, not disassociated or fragmented.

you and i are intended to live body and soul. heart, soul, mind and strength working together, integrated for a greater purpose than the individual parts or their sum. fully human ordained w/ dignity, the image of our creator, the stewards of dominion in this world. we, the marvel of cherubim and seraphim. yet stained and therefore dying. tragedy in our end. stain to sting.

but maybe more sinister, the stain works to separate the soul from the body in this life. in our living. this world and its ways is no friend to robust and vibrant living, body and soul. each day presents a daunting challenge to live full, free and whole. the temptation of the body is to be controlled by its desires or blinded by its worship. the temptation of the soul is to become its own god, prideful in knowledge disdaining sheer might. the battle rages constant, subtle, and insipid. left to our own in this fight, we make tactical blunders, strategic mistakes. the treachery of body warring against the soul and the soul pursuing supremacy over the body can fool us into choosing sides. personal civil war ensues. inner turmoil begins to disintegrate the integration of original design.

our creator never intended for the body and soul to be separated. living where soul meets body. material and immaterial existing together in holistic harmony in this life and in eternity. but the stain desires to thwart the living now and steal forever. so the creator stepped out of eternity into our history clothed in the body of a baby, divinity and humanity existing in perfect yet undiluted mixture, incarnate christ. in eventual death, offering abundant robust life now and forever. a gracious gift to those who believe in the incarnate christ. proclaiming good tidings as death is defeated by one's death and resurrection. so that for those in christ death may separate the body and soul, but only temporarily. for we will live where soul meets body in eternity because of jesus.

and so as the body of this precious saint lay motionless before us that monday evening, we stayed ourselves on the truth that her soul that was now in the presence of her savior would someday soon be clothed again with a new body, raised to live eternally, joyfully, with no stain, defect or decay. death defeated. life in the son, body and soul. and in this we found courage and comfort.

*these are my own thoughts about the songs i listen to. i, in no way, am trying to communicate nor convey the artist's original meaning for their song. these are my thoughts alone.

no room for fear

"in his eyes i see the fear, that only time could disappear

if only time could re-appear, now's the time

somethin' to take it away, to take it away, to take it

don't let it stay, don't let it stay, don't let it "

in other words, ben kweller

regret, quite often, rolls the red carpet out for fear. if you're like me, there are times in your life where you long for a do-over, a reset, a clean slate to say words differently, respond instead of react or realize the opportunity that was missed, unrecognized. and if you're like me, you sigh, at best, or cringe, at worst, when the residue of those faltering, floundering and failing moments of your past appear in your present to remind you. they can bully you into brooding and taunt you into a tempest, working the crowd of your faculties until fear steps out of your limbic limo onto the red runner that leads to your heart. it seizes you and you feel of stone. what to do? what can you do?

the paralysis of fear is its fuel. we fight or flee or beg and seek for something to take it away. but regardless of our choice, we break contact only temporarily. we gain but a momentary reprieve, a fleeting peace that offers little solace. fear eventually catches up bringing our monogrammed mistakes to the present and moves to our future, stakes a dishonest claim and waits out in the open for us to arrive. if not paralyzed, then powerless, so we look for something to evict it from our lives. control, power, substances or things we bow to that control us...something, anything to take it away, that won't let it stay. we often serve the lesser gods that hide us from fear. only to find, in the end, their craft lessens in effect and fear reappears, large and foreboding.

in other words by ben kweller is a beautifully haunting song. it is poignant in its message, true to the feelings and emotions of life, fear, and moving in its music, like many of kweller's works. i think he is gifted in the art of communication. songs like his lead me to a saying that i heard some years ago in a talk given by dr. elliot greene. it has become somewhat of a mantra for me:

my feelings are true, but they are not truth

when these feelings of regret and fear creep in to my world, i pray i recognize them for what they are and i pray, even more, for the only thing that can truly take them away and will not let them stay: perfect love casts out all fear. perfect love comes from God, there is no other source. and the God who is eternally in relationship has placed me within relationships to both discover my inept ability to love and rescue me from it. in jesus, God saves me and shows me he is love, perfect and powerful. when his love fills me, there is no room for fear. and his love propels me into regret-filled, once terrifying relationships with courage and confidence that his love is far greater than any impossibility i may face in any relational circumstance.

i love the transition in kweller's, in other words, when the somber sadness moves into a driving, ever fuller, ever faster piano crescendo. the bridge contains the phrase, it starts stopping when it stops stopping. to me, i do not know kweller's original meaning, i hear in this song that the feelings of fear have ceased and something alive and vibrant is taking over. honestly, kweller is banging on the piano like a man possessed. i imagine him playing with two hands, a foot and his forehead! i love it! and i think, in some broken, not fully focused way, the full and flooding sound of kweller on the piano dimly reflects the torrential and life-giving movement of perfect love. it wildly bursts into my heart, joyfully sending fear carreening out of it's stolen space emphatically declaring there is no room for it anymore.

*these are my own thoughts about the songs i listen to. i, in no way, am trying to communicate nor convey the artist's original meaning for their song. these are my thoughts alone.

in need of mending

"and we are so fragile
and our cracking bones make noise

and we all are just

breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys"

-ingrid michaelson, breakable

i love the lyrical quality of ingrid michaelson's voice. it is full, melodic and rich. to me, she sounds like she is smiling while she is singing. her voice and songs are distinctive. she is a singer-songwriter, a poet and musician. the first time i heard breakable, her lyrics unfolded a truth that i have come to know: we are broken people.

actually, i believe we are born that way, though the cracks nor pain may not appear for many years to come. broken from birth and in desperate need of mending. we are so fragile, as michaelson writes, but skeletal fragility is, surprisingly, just a symptom of a darker reality. we are not passive souls, victims of an evil force that seeks to crush our bones, alone. no, i believe we have the propensity ourselves: the capacity to break others.

it is our nature. not that we fulfill the worst of its capacity, but it seems, that it is always lurking, crouching, waiting in the shadows to own us. in thought, action or reaction and words, i can break others and they can break me. we all feel real hurt and pain in relationships. and in them and this state, i feel helpless....and at my core, my soul, i am.

but one has come. his form like ours, but his nature not. he could do no breaking, himself. but he gave himself to be broken for all the breakable girls and boys. broken and poured out. love's libation. he became breakable to mend our brokenness completely. hope for the breakers, the breaking, the broken and the breakable: jesus

this post is my opinion; my own thoughts about the things i hear in songs. my posts are not intended to speak for the artist nor in anyway define or interpret the meaning of the songs that are mentioned. it is, solely, my opinion.

first blog

it seems that most of the time I am singing a song. sometimes out loud, sometimes very quietly, sometimes just in my head. i sing a lot in my car. sometimes, i'll just turn off my radio or cd player and just sing out loud. if i am not singing a song, i will often whistle. i whistle a lot, i think. the songs that i sing or whistle vary widely in their style and genre. i enjoy most types of songs and i listen to a lot of music. like many people, songs and music speak to me. they provoke emotions. they make me think. they move me in many ways.



i have been singing and whistling songs for as long as i can remember. i would say I have always been drawn to music and songs. growing up, i remember singing along to the songs i heard at school, at home, in cars, at church, wherever i went or was i heard the songs and they stayed with me. and they moved me; literally. i like to dance to songs and music. i do not perform songs nor play a musical instrument. i have never had voice lessons. i cannot read music. i never really enjoyed being in choir at school or church. i admire these abilities, talents and pursuits in others, though. i just enjoy singing and listening, then singing what i listened to later.



when i was 21 years old my life changed. better said, my heart was changed and the one who changed it put a new song in it. my habits and behaviour regarding songs and music didn't really change, but the way i heard songs did. and it changed profoundly. i began to hear songs differently. it is difficult and probably rather boring to try and explain just what had changed in my hearing of songs and music. but it changed then and has not been the same since.



i write this blog for fun, for personal enjoyment and for the hope that their are others who are drawn to music and songs as i am. i am smiling as i type right now. i write because i love the music in the songs, the music in the music. i believe all of creation sings, but not all hear the music. some sing in tune with the music, others seems to be searching for the music in their songs.



my purpose, my method, in this blog, is to write about songs and music that i hear and sing and whistle. i want to write about the lyrics of songs that speak to me and the sounds of music that move me. my hearing is not perfect, but I believe, i hope, it is being perfected. what i hear is my interpretation. it may not be what the song intended or the music meant. nevertheless, i listen for the music in the song.