A life that's worth a damn.

We were once just breathing air,

Strolling on without a care,

Our eyes were locked upon our feet.

Asphalt was our shade of green,

The road lines our color scheme,

Mindless to all but our little street.

That street became a wall,

And our forward progress stalled,

We weren’t quite sure where life had gone.

With our newly lifted heads,

We raised up from the dead,

And our weary eyes caught glimpse of sun.

Jesus, Jesus,

We didn’t know that you were waiting

For us, for us,

We didn’t know these colors were made

For us, for us,

We thought that we would always get along…

Just fine.

With some new-found energy,

The Earth’s floral carpeting,

Began to crack right through the street.

And I could feel it too,

With an air of changing tunes,

New life had sprung inside of me.

Jesus, Jesus,

I didn’t know that you were waiting

For us, for us,

I didn’t know these colors were made

For us, for us,

I thought that I would always get along…

Just fine.

And now I’m breathing air,

For a life that’s worth a damn,

And there’s a light behind my eyes

Ventures are fully braved,

Love can be wholly made,

And now my limit is the skies.

Jesus, Jesus,

I now know that you’re wanting to

Transform us, form us,

So we can see the colors you made

For us, for us,

I can’t believe I ever could have thought

“Just fine”

…was good enough.

lll

People assume that the phrase "worth a damn" comes from southern culture; that some older tobacco-spitting man from the great depression must have thought of it. Just like we think the phrase "all for one and one for all" comes from The Three Musketeers.

But i don't believe the phrase "worth a damn" came from the south. or the north. or England or Cambodia. I think it came because our God calls things that are not as though they are.

I was talking with a friend of mine this morning who has just recently moved to a new place with his wife. They seem to be adjusting pretty well to the new climate, new streets, new everything, but leaving a strong community of Godly support is always a difficult thing. He said to me that the people he has encountered that don't know about the exciting adventure of the love of God (yet) just seem like they think they're void of purpose. they don't seem excited about work, or life, or anything. they just try to hide away and get by. "its like we are talking to zombies." he said. When you are constantly surrounded by amazing community that is after the heart of the Lord, it's easy to forget that death is the majority and that we are the weirdos.

But Jesus sees them all together different. he sees US all together different. He, being there at the beginning, when he invented green and plants and oxygen and us, saw the world the way it was created to be. and he has NEVER been able to get that image out of his head. Ever since things were skewed by sin he has been calling creation and its people back to their original purpose, the one in which we are the most fulfilled. He sees a drunkard in the street, or a tax collector (i think that tow-truck drivers are the modern day tax collectors), or a business man, or a young campus minister who is only just scratching the surface of what God is like, and sees them the way they were CREATED to be. He sees the purpose inside of them and loves them fully for what they are.

And he saw that the only way to bring us into the fullness of what we were created to be was to undo the curse that ruined it all in the first place. to come, die, and be damned himself. He sees us for what he made us to be, and he thinks that we are worth a DAMN.

So there's no reason to just keep trucking on, live our hundred years and try to figure out what life means while we're staring at the road. Encounter the love of Jesus, let him transform you, and go live a life that's worth a damn, our purpose is found there anyway.

Recieve Your Glory.

God is good, all the time. All the time, He is good...

Receive your Glory.

What can you do when you are swept out to sea?
The waves are coming down fast.
Where do you go when land is a dream?
When back looks like forward, and forward like back.

The sky starts to open and welcome you home
You now get to step out of time
You dream even deeper, your journey begins
Your new body shimmers, alive.

No matter what changes,
Lord, you know what’s best.
I raise up what voice still lives in my chest
And I sing:

Receive your glory
Receive your glory
Receive your glory
Receive your glory

What can I do from nations away?
When pain still beats on my chest?
Who can I battle? What can I say?
How can I raise up the rest?

My bones have got colder, they tremor and ache.
My weeping is all I can see.
The mud adds a cushion to my knees and my face.
In all of my weakness, I scream:

“No matter what changes,
Lord, you know what’s best!
I raise up what voice still lives in my chest!
And I sing!:

Receive your Glory!
Receive your Glory!
Receive your Glory!
Receive your Glory!”

I believe in you Jesus, You’re worthy of praise!
You inhabit the title of “good!”
I worship with gladness, now and always
If you asked me to follow, I would.

Because no matter what changes,
Lord, you know what’s best.
I raise up what voice still lives in my chest
And I sing:

Receive your Glory
Receive your Glory
Receive your Glory
Receive your Glory.

Letters to Africa

So i have been writing a lot lately... and i have been looking back a lot lately. i've been revisiting my life and my heart and just taking stock of all the adventures the Lord has brought me through. i had to laugh at myself a little bit today, because while looking through some old pictures i had this thought: "man, i have really have lived an incredible life so far. im ready for heaven." hahaha sometimes i have to remind myself to slow down a bit. heaven is my longing, but im here now. i keep forgetting. (although i can empathize with Paul in Phillipians when he says it is better by far to depart and be with Jesus).

but anyway. i was looking back. i HAVE lived a great life so far. and im filled with peace when the memories come. praise God for them.

i was looking back to a journey i went on several years ago, and the Lord reawakened something very dear to my heart. my love for the brothers and sisters in Africa. it seems like i had almost forgotten all the Lord taught me through them, and how i love their kindness in poverty and their life-filled eyes. i grew so much then, and the lessons from that journey i have kept with me to date. i dont want to forget the people. i can't.

so i wrote. as i often do. my heart beats in lyrical fashion. it may be that only the people who went to Botswana with me all those years ago can really understand this poem. since its really very personal. but i just want to say thank you to that team. thank you to the Lord. and thank you to Botswana. i promise i wont forget you.

Letters to Africa

I wont forget, no I wont forget you.

Raging summer of fire’s end

Wind-chilled nights in the desert land

A tree for shade with its roots in sand

And the people know we’re there.

Salvation comes and creation groans

To see His daughters, see His sons

For praise from voices and not just stones

His people join the song.

And I wont forget, no I wont forget you.

I wont forget, no I wont forget you.

The dark continent sees specs of light

When unity comes the nations sigh

We praise as one and fires rise

He shows us by His hand.

We’ve learned to love the rising sun

We’ve learned that breath revives the dust

Of wisdom gained and peaceful touch

Sit back, and breathe Him in.

And I wont forget, no I wont forget you.

I wont forget, no I wont forget you.

Africa, I wont forget you.

Botswana, love, I wont forget you.

To the people in turmoil, with life in your eyes

I wont forget, no I wont forget you.

The Sparrow's Salvation

There was once a man who had just tucked himself in on a cold night in the dead of winter. He had just locked the doors, just bolted the windows, and snuggled into his sheets to listen to the artic wind pounding on the walls of his humble abode. He could see the snow pouring down from his bedroom window, although because of the wind, it looked as if it was going from earth to sky.

The man heard an unfamiliar sound. Something altogether different from the whistle of the wind that he had grown accustomed to. A rough tapping at the barn door outside his house. Curious, the man lit his bedside lantern and shined the light out his window towards the barn. A flock of sparrows, grounded in the north because of the sudden harsh conditions, were furiously trying to fly into the window of the barn. Drawn, as it seems, to the warmth inside.

Touched, the man tied his boots up over his pajama bottoms, put on a thick coat, and made his way out to the barn to open the door for his feathered friends. His cold hand still grasped the metal lantern while his other shielded his face from the wind. After what all would call a valiant trek, the man threw the wooden lock off the barn door to prepare a winter home for the sparrows. He walked around to the outside, grabbed a bale of hay, and put it in the corner.

The sparrows, which had scattered in all directions when the man first approached, hid in the darkness of the trees, afraid. They couldn’t comprehend that this unusual large creature actually desired to help them. “It’s alright.” The man said tenderly to the frightened birds, “it’ll be a lot warmer in here. Come on in!” he waved his arms in a friendly gesture of welcome, which only managed to scare the birds even further and send them higher into the trees.

But the man decided to commit, and then tried every manner of tactics to get the birds into the barn. He tried shaking the tree on the opposite side in hopes that the birds would flee into the safety of the barn. He tried laying a trail of saltine crackers and then hiding away in his house, watching. When the birds remained, he came back out and tried skipping and singing and flapping his arms, hoping that the birds would follow his example and flutter into the warm shelter. He tried asking them, he tried flocking them, he tried showing them, but it was no use. Apart from looking very ridiculous and forcing the birds higher into the dark tree, the man’s attempts were unsuccessful. The birds would not enter the barn or come to the foreign creature that was the man.

Deflated, the man returned to his house, perplexed. “If only I could become a sparrow for just a moment.” Thought the man. “Then we could finally understand each other and I could simply show them the way to the barn…”

Then another, much grander, thought came to the humble farmer. He now understood why Jesus had to come to earth from his throne in heaven.

The Sparrow’s Salvation:

The winter storm comes,

Lock the doors, bolt the windows, you’re safe.

Snuggle in your sheets,

Lay your head, take your rest from the day.

You hear a sound through the wind,

Get your lantern and go see what it is.

The sparrows at the door

Break their beaks, man they want to get in.

Compassion swells.

Mercy comes.

The world needs your help,

Get your coat on.

The snow’s falling up,

But you walk to the door anyway.

You throw off the lock,

Lay the ground, and you open the way.

Put the snacks in a line,

Set the trail, and invite them to warmth.

But they wait in their fear,

In the trees, now they’re cursing the north.

Compassion swells.

Mercy comes.

The world needs your help,

Get your coat on.

Open the door.

Invite them in.

But that’s not enough,

Come and get us.

The temperature drops,

Try your thoughts. but the sparrows, they stay.

Frightened birds hide their beaks,

Fly to trees, and they say, “stay away.”

The winter stays strong,

Look around, and you find a new way.

You strap on your wings,

Shine your beak, you’re a bird for today.

Compassion swells.

Mercy comes.

The world needs your help,

Get your coat on.

Open the door.

Invite them in.

But that’s not enough,

Come and get us.

Come and get us.