Caroling, Caroling

I did something I haven’t done in a long, long time. Not since college. Maybe even high school. I went caroling, complete with printed sheets of lyrics and everything. Just like it was back in the late 1900s.

It’s been that long.

Back in the day, we’d all gather together and carpool from place to place with our arsenal of festive seasonal classics. I’m sure we were joyful and triumphant in our attempts to pull off the carols and jingles. We probably came closer to making a joyful noise than anything else. I couldn’t tell if the guy next to me was trying to harmonize or was just really off-key, but it didn’t really matter in the end. A good time was had by all.

Tonight, we started off visiting the house of a deacon who very recently had been fighting for his life. It was heartwarming to see him standing in the doorway, a sort of miracle in itself, with his wife wiping away tears of gratitude as we sang loudly and zestily (if not always in tune or in the same key).

Then we headed over to my pastor’s parent’s to do more yuletide crooning. They’ve both had health issues and have had a rough 2022, but they were both pleased and grateful to see us gathered in their front yard, singing about those herald angels.

The last stop was the next-door neighbor who was a founding member of Brentwood Baptist Church along with her late husband. She lost him around this time last year, and I’m sure she was thankful for the company. Christmas is a beautiful time, but sometimes I forget that it’s not the easiest season if you’re missing a loved one.

I snapped a picture of this forlorn little reindeer in one of the yards. Hopefully, someone got a good snapshot of all of us singing in different keys and sometimes different verses at the same time. The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir we were not.

But I’d do it all again tomorrow night if I could. In fact, I hope this caroling thing becomes another tradition that I can look forward to through the spring, summer and fall.

The Most Reluctant Convert

I did something that I rarely do these days — I went to an actual movie in an actual movie theater. It’s been a while.

Normally, I like to wait for it to hit streaming services because few films are worth paying the current price of movie tickets. But in this case, I made an exception. I wanted to support a faith-based film from a group that I’ve grown to respect as I’ve gotten to know about them, the Fellowship for Performing Arts, led by one Max McLean.

The film is centered around the story of C. S. Lewis’ 10-year journey from atheism to Christianity. Without giving away too much, the narrative device they use to tell the story is unique and compelling. I feel like Mr. McLean masterfully portrayed the title character and the filming locations gave the production a note of authenticity.

But what captivated me most was the way the movie used Lewis’ own words. I believe a lot of the narrative came directly from his autobiography Surprised by Joy. For once, it’s a faith-based film that actually succeeds at being a good film first, and without being preachy or didactic.

It will make you want to dive deep into the writings of C. S. Lewis, both apologetic and fiction, as well as possibly leading you to check out some of writers who inspired him such as George MacDonald and G. K. Chesterton. I can’t recommend it highly enough for anyone who wants a quality movie about the nuances of faith and intellect.

Do Thou for Me

“Do Thou for me, O God the Lord,
Do Thou for me.
I need not toil to find the word
That carefully
Unfolds my prayer and offers it,
My God, to Thee.

It is enough that Thou wilt do,
And wilt not tire,
Wilt lead by cloud, all the night through
By light of fire,
Till Thou has perfected in me
Thy heart’s desire.

For my beloved I will not fear,
Love knows to do
For him, for her, from year to year,
As hitherto.
Whom my heart cherishes are dear
To Thy heart too.

O blessèd be the love that bears
The burden now,
The love that frames our very prayers,
Well knowing how
To coin our gold.  O God the Lord,
Do Thou, Do Thou” (Amy Carmichael).

There are times when we simply don’t know how to pray for a circumstance or a loved one. Try as we may, the words will not come.

I think even then God hears the groans and sighs of our petitions and knows what they mean. He hears the deepest desires of our hearts and knows best how to grant them.

Even when we have words, they aren’t always the best ones. Sometimes, we ask without such a limited point of view. Sometimes we ask selfishly. Sometimes we have too small a view of God and ask too little.

In Jan Karon’s Mitford series, Father Tim Kavanaugh always has his go-to prayer, or “the prayer that never fails,” as he calls it. The prayer goes “Thy will be done.”

You can never go wrong with leaving the matter in God’s hands.

Like a Dream

Remember when the Eternal brought back the exiles to Zion?
    It was as if we were dreaming—
Our mouths were filled with laughter;
    our tongues were spilling over into song.
The word went out across the prairies and deserts,
    across the hills, over the oceans wide, from nation to nation:
“The Eternal has done remarkable things for them.”
We shook our headsAll of us were stunned—the Eternal has done remarkable things for us.
    We were beyond happy, beyond joyful” (Psalm 126:1-3, The Voice).

We had our very first worship service today in our newly renovated, fully paid for building. It really was like a dream. I kept expecting to wake up and find myself going to the old campus.

But God knew. Even before The Church at Avenue South was a dream in the minds of those who had a goal of reaching the city of Nashville for Jesus, God saw this day. God planned this day.

Long before creation, God orchestrated that one day there would be a church that met on the hill overlooking the intersection of Elliott and Acklen, a virtual city on a hill.

For a while, it didn’t seem possible. We were told that there was nothing available and even if there was, we couldn’t afford it. Some developers would swoop in and pay in cash way more than we could hope to match.

Then we found the property and ran into red tape. For a while, it seemed improbable. I was beginning to think we’d never get the necessary paperwork to even get started on the renovations and additions.

But God showed up. Any time you see a passage in the Bible that starts with “but God,” then you know something good is about to go down. Something amazing. Something miraculous.

Every time we meet, we are standing in the faithfulness of God. We are standing on the promises of God — literally as many of us wrote Scripture on the floors and walls before the carpet and pain went in.

Hudson Taylor said it best: “There are three stages to every great work of God; first it is impossible, then it is difficult, then it is done.”

I’m reminded of something I heard at another church: what seems impossible to us isn’t even remotely difficult for God.

I can look back and see the hand of God all over this new property, starting on day one. I can’t wait to see what God will do in the weeks and months and years to come at 901 Acklen Ave.

Insomnia

There’s a joke that goes something like this: what do you call it when you can’t sleep, so you get up at midnight and make yourself a snack? Insom-nom-nom-ia.

Get it? Cue the rim shot.

But I can speak from experience about insomnia. I have those nights from time to time. It seems like the more I want to sleep, the more I try to sleep, the more awake I become. Sometimes, those thoughts in your head just won’t lie down, kinda like me when I was little and told I needed to take a nap.

But imagine if those nights are God trying to get your attention. Instead of becoming increasingly annoyed and agitated, try using it as a time for hearing from God at a time when you’re least distracted and have the least amount of stuff going on.

I think about little Samuel in the middle of the night when God kept calling his name. He kept thinking it was Eli, but finally realized it was God. Eli instructed him for when the next time God called to respond, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

Maybe that’s a good prayer for the middle of the night when sleep won’t come. Not that I’m an expert at that. I’m more the agitated forgetting to pray type.

But hopefully the next time, I will remember that prayer that consists of seven words: Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.

Turntable Magic

Tonight after I got home from my Franklin shenanigans, I decided to spin some vinyl on the ol’ turntable. It’s still a good way to wind down at the end of the day.

For my listening selection, I had Minute by Minute by the Doobie Brothers, the Traveling Wilburys, and Soldiers Under Command by Stryper. I think that officially qualifies as eclectic. And they were all old school, which to me is the best.

What is it about dropping the needle on the record that sends a surge of dopamine to my brain? I have no idea. I just know that I go to my happy place whenever a record is playing. Or when a vinyl is spinning, to put it more coolly.

Half the fun is the hunt when you don’t know what you will find (or if you will find anything). The other half is playing what you find and hearing memories come to life. You can debate all day long whether CDs or records sound better, but in my mind nothing sounds better than the music I grew up on coming back to life through my speakers. That’s magic.

Hide and Seek World Champion

One of Peanut’s favorite activities is to go hide somewhere and take a nap. I think that’s the dream of just about every adult these days. To be able to sleep in peace and quiet without any interruptions or catastrophes would be right at the top of most of our lists.

I say hide and seek world champion, but that’s only in her mind. She thinks that if she can’t see you, you can’t see her. But usually there’s the telltale lump under the bed covers that gives her away. Or it’s all the pillows from my bed knocked askew.

Every now and then, she really does hide. I have no idea where. My guess is that she has access to some sort of wormhole or portal to another dimension when she really wants her privacy. Either that or she’s sporting an invisibility cloak a la Harry Potter.

Basically, she likes to be covered up. Whether it’s underneath blankets or behind pillows, she loves her an enclosed space with just enough room for her and her whiskers. I suppose that’s a cat thing rooted in their need for safety from predators out in the wild (or dust bunnies in the house).

One day, I may just sit her down and have a heartfelt talk about why she does what she does. Until then, I suppose it’s anyone’s guess.

Healing Now Vs. Healing in Heaven

I used to think that sometimes God answers our prayers for healing, and sometimes He doesn’t. Like sometimes He says yes, sometimes no.

But maybe God always heals, but not always in the way we expect. Sometimes, it’s earthly but sometimes not until heaven.

I found this post that speaks to when God’s answer to our prayers for healing don’t look like what we hoped for or anticipated. But since God is always good, His gifts and His answers are always good.

“When you pray for someone to be healed but the opposite happens, you sometimes wonder if your prayer wasn’t good enough or if you aren’t righteous enough or your faith tank is too low. Other times you wonder why some people get that wow-God, triumphant miracle story while you sit there still praying, still waiting, changing up the words you pray to find that perfect key-fit to unlock the miracle. When it comes to God healing or choosing not to heal, I know the right answer in my brain, but my heart doesn’t get it and keeps asking, ‘why?’

One day while I was pondering that, a very wise friend, Tia Willin Collin said this and in one fell swoop, called a truce between my head and my heart. Here’s what she said about God sometimes choosing not to heal:

‘Wait what? God doesn’t always heal? I disagree! Prayers for healing are the safest prayers we can pray because God always says ‘yes’. Now…let’s define ‘yes’. If he heals you here, your healing is temporary. It’s still good and amazing, but it will not last forever. You will get sick again. You will die. I’ve never met a 2,000 year old Christian! But if he releases you from your mortal body, and heals you in THAT way, then, you are healed forever! No more sickness, no more pain, no more tears. The problem isn’t, sometimes God heals and sometimes he doesn’t, the problem is, we’ve begun to cherish ‘temporary healing’ over ‘eternal healing’ so much so, we now dismiss eternal healing as any type of healing at all’” (Lisa Barry).

Remembering

When I was at Goodwill earlier, I thought I heard a familiar song. I was in the line to check out when I first became aware of the song that sounded like I had heard it before. I waited for a certain part to know if it was the song I was thinking about. It was.

You ever do that? You hear a song that sounds vaguely familiar, but you can’t be sure until there’s a certain phrase or riff or melody that solidifies it for you.

In my case, it was a song called Set Adrift on Memory Bliss by PM Dawn. That actual song might not be one you recognize, but there is a sample from an 80s song that a lot more people know. The sample is from the song True by Spandau Ballet.

The point is that it was a moment where I recognized the song and thought about how it had been a long time since I last heard it. It takes me back to the good old 90s when life seemed a lot simpler and when there was way less technology demanding our attention.

I like those moments. It’s like for a split second I can pretend that I am 19 again and the whole wide world is still ahead of me. And the song is not bad, either.

Wanting and Willing

What follows was originally penned by Elisabeth Elliott. It speaks to the distinction between wanting to obey and willing to obey. The key is that you obey even when you don’t feel like it. You do the acts of love and then the feelings of love will follow:

“We don’t always have complete control over what we want to do because ‘wants’ are determined by circumstances, feelings, other people, social climate, times in which we live. Nobody ever wanted a pair of Reebok tennis shoes before Reebok tennis shoes were invented. The fact that you want it doesn’t mean you go and buy it. It’s a matter of ‘willing’.

The same thing is true of the will of God. We can determine to will to do the will of God. It’s a conscious choice. You may not w’ant’ to do what you know God wants you to do, but you can will to do what He wants you to do.

Don’t ever allow the devil to take you in with the argument, “You gotta do what you gotta do because if you do something that you don’t wanna do or you don’t do something that you wanna do, You’re being a hypocrite.” That’s rubbish! Do you think a mother changes a baby’s diaper only when she wants to, when she feels like it? No, she does it when the baby’s diaper needs to be changed. She WILLS to do it. It has nothing to do with whether she feels good about it.

Here is a poem I came across:

[ I believe the author was Anna J. Graniss.]

“I saw a little child
With bandaged eyes
Put up its hands
To feel its mother’s face.

She bent and took
The tender, gropy palms
And pressed them to her lips
A little space.

I know a soul
Made blind by its desires
And yet its faith keeps feeling
For God’s face.

Bend down, O Mighty Love
And let that faith
One little moment
Touch Thy lips of grace.”

The same thing as what our loving God does. Even if we are made blind by desires, the things that we want–yet faith–which is a willed act, keeps feeling for God’s face. And when we will to come to Him, will to seek His face, then He in tender love reaches down and takes our hands and leads us to Him.

George McDonald said, ‘f I felt my heart as hard as a stone, if I did not love God, or man, or woman, or little child, I would yet say to God in my heart, ‘Oh, God, see how I trust Thee because Thou art perfect and not changeable like me. I do not love Thee. I love nobody. I am not even sorry for it. Thou seest how much I need Thee to come close to me, to put Thy arm around me, to say to me, ‘My child’. For the worse my state, the greater need of my Father Who loves me.’

If anyone feels he/she has no religious feeling whatsoever, but still desires God, believe me, the Father waits for your slightest move in His direction and He will meet you” (Elisabeth Elliot).

The Last Sunday

There’s something a little sad about last things. Even if you know something better is coming, it doesn’t mean that you won’t be sad about the ending.

I got a little emotional singing the Doxology for the last time at The Church at Avenue South’s last service at 2510 8th Ave S. I know the new campus on 901 Acklen Ave will be so much better in so many ways, but it’s hard to deny 10 years of history.

As my pastor reminded us all, when we set out to plant a church in the Melrose/Berry Hill area of Nashville back in 2013, many “experts” said we’d never be able to find suitable property. Even if we did, we’d never be able as a church to compete with other bidders or afford space to accommodate our needs.

But God. That’s how all the best stories start. God showed up. A property opened up that was exactly what we needed at the time. The owner was the son of a pastor. His name was Gabriel. Does it get any more God-ordained than that?

Fast forward 8 or so years later and we’re looking for a permanent home. Again, those in the know said we’d never find it in the area we felt called to serve. But God stepped in again. A church half a mile away had relocated to Hermitage and wanted to sell the property to another church to keep the gospel presence intact in the neighborhood. They left money on the table to sell to us versus selling to a developer.

God’s fingerprints are all over the move, yet it’s still a goodbye. We’re saying goodbye to a building where so many God-moments have taken place. We’ve seen God show up time and time again. So many of us (including me) are different people than we were when we first walked into 2510 8th Ave S. We are more like Jesus.

There are not many left from those early days in 2014, but everyone who has been in the building for 10 years, 10 months, 10 days, or 1 day has a story to tell about how God met them in that place.

May there be many more stories to tell in the years to come at 901 Acklen Ave.

Stories from Scars

I have a scar on my left hand. It goes back to when I was 18 or 19 years old. I was driving down Poplar Avenue in Memphis, Tennessee to Cat’s Music to do some trading of music. At some point, I passed my destination. Later on, I came to a two-way flashing red light stop.

The problem was that I didn’t know it was a two-way stop. Even if I had known, I probably still wouldn’t have known what to do. The result was me pulling out in front of a full-sized truck and getting hit in the driver’s side door.

In case you’re wondering, I survived. I ended up with a rather garish wound on my left hand. At first, I could see clear to the bone. That’s when I realized that it hurt. A lot.

Thankfully, that was the extent of my injuries. Unfortunately, my car did not survive the encounter. But to this day, I carry the scar as a reminder of the foolishness of my youth and the ever-present and ever-protective grace of God.

Scars tell stories. They speak to wounds that have healed but left visible reminders. As much as the memorial stones set up by the people of God in olden times, scars are a kind of memorial to a time when you survived. They are a testimony to how God met you in the moment of your wounding and carried you through it.

Every time I see my scar, I see God’s goodness. Every time my hand cramps up when I’m writing, I think back to how close I came to not being here. I’m still thankful.

Scars can be shameful if you focus on the wound and the hurt, but they can be sacred if you choose to see how God turned that painful moment into something beautiful and good.

“Darkest water and deepest pain
I wouldn’t trade it for anything
‘Cause my brokenness brought me to you
And these wounds are a story you’ll use

So I’m thankful for the scars
‘Cause without them I wouldn’t know your heart
And I know they’ll always tell of who you are
So forever I am thankful for the scars” (Ethan Hulse, Jon McConnell, Matthew Armstrong, Matthew Hein).

The Mosaic of Community

This is most likely a repeat, but I’m too tired for original thought, so I’m posting something from Henri Nouwen that spoke volumes to me about the importance of community and how we together reflect God and make Him visible in the world:

“A mosaic consists of thousands of little stones. Some are blue, some are green, some are yellow, some are gold. When we bring our faces close to the mosaic, we can admire the beauty of each stone. But as we step back from it, we can see that all these little stones reveal to us a beautiful picture, telling a story none of these stones can tell by itself.

That is what our life in community is about. Each of us is like a little stone, but together we reveal the face of God to the world. Nobody can say: ‘I make God visible.’ But others who see us together can say: ‘They make God visible.’ Community is where humility and glory touch.”

I think stained glass window work essentially the same way. They are made up of bits of broken glass that only make sense when fitted together into a whole. We are that mosaic and that stained glass window that tells the story of God’s love for His people. That’s why community matters so much.