Spark

We don’t believe the lies 

We don’t let them in 

We won’t let fear beat us 

We know it loses in the end 

We won’t give up in the battle 

We have the fighter spark 

We won’t run away in the losses 

We don’t lose faith in the dark 

We’ll hold our ground steady 

We sing our victory song loud 

We follow the fire 

And hold firm for the cloud 

We’ll believe beyond reason 

Even with darkness covering 

We’ll hold onto Your goodness 

Even when nothing is all we’ve seen  

We’ve walked in the valley 

And through the deep of night 

We keep moving forward 

Because this is faith- not sight 

We may not know what’s next 

It’s not for us to see 

But we’ll trust You more than ever 

As You make us who were meant to be 

Drift Away

I see you drifting far away

Far from where we are 

I wonder why you drift away 

Headed for a different star 

I see you drifting far away 

There’s nothing to be done 

I’ll watch you as you drift away 

Until the light is gone 

I see you drifting far away 

As you sing a different song 

I still see you drifting far away 

Choices pulling you along 

I see you drifting far away 

As far as I can see  

You keep drifting far away  

Far away from me 

I see you drifting far away

No more tears to cry 

Forever drifting far away 

I’ll always wonder why 

I see you drifting far away 

What’s left is running dry 

You’re still drifting far away 

Into a different sky 

I see you drifting far away 

The end is coming now 

I wish you wouldn’t drift away 

I can’t stand to watch you drown

Drift away my little star

There’s nothing left to be 

Farewell, my little star

Someday come back home to me 

Frustration

My heart, O God, is steadfast, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music.

Psalm 57:7

I’m so thankful for scripture. It’s a refuge in every season. It rights our perspective, comforts our hurts, shifts our attitude, humbles our pride, and brings us back to where we need to be: a submitted heart. 

IF we’ll let it. 

Today I found myself dealing with frustrations. Circumstances, people, you name it. 

So I went to the Word, and I went to prayer. Because, well, that’s all I know how to do. 

I simply told the Lord, “I’m frustrated. And I don’t know what to do.” 

And as I just stood in silence for a few moments I felt the Lord remind me that the biggest frustration I’m dealing with is ME. 

My own expectations. I want MY way. I know best. I have the answers. 

This is the real problem. Not the other people. 

I felt the Lord remind me to just be faithful. To serve. To do so with JOY. 
Because this is what the Lord is presenting me with. 

He’s not extending me the opportunity to have my way or fix the problems. 

The opportunity he’s giving me is to faithfully serve, with joy. That’s it. 

It's actually a simple thing. And I'm always reminded of 2 Kings, where Naaman is told to go wash in the river and he almost refuses until his servant says "If the prophet had told you a difficult thing, wouldn't you have done it?" 

Why do we always reject the simple thing? 
But I digress.

You know what happened next? 

All the frustration disappeared. 

It’s not that it won’t come back. It will. But then I can CHOOSE to be self-disciplined. I can CHOOSE not to be frustrated. I can CHOOSE to joyfully fulfill my assignment in this season: EVEN IF IT’S NOT THE ONE I WANT. 

It really is a choice. 

Is it easy? No. 

Fun? Not always. 

Does it bring accolades or spotlights? No. 

But that's not what we're here for. We're here to serve.

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, "Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all." 
Mark 9:35

Idols

Why do they matter? What are they? We’re not too familiar with this idea anymore. We tend to think that idols are something passed away, from a long time ago. Not too many of us are out in the backyard constructing some sort of golden calf, as it were. 

Is this still relevant? 

I think the answer is emphatically, YES. 

It’s true, we’re not out building statues of wood or metal to pray to. 

But often do we devote ourselves to something other than Christ? 

Devotion is a confusing word. We don’t really put anything we do in the same category as Christ. But don’t we let so many other things shape how we think?
How we think about life, how we think about others, how we think about ourselves? Doesn’t our thought process drive our actions? 

We think or we feel something, and then most often, we do something based on that thought. 

Let’s think about a tangible example: 

We think “I’m fat.” Or often, more accurately, we feel “fat” and then thought and feeling drives us to an action. And of course, we all react differently. Maybe your reaction is to eat more, eat more unhealthy things, and spiral into an emotional eating habit. 

Or maybe your reaction is to go the other way. Instead you begin to discipline yourself in the name of getting healthy. You work out a lot. You don’t eat anything “bad.” You feel guilty when you do. So you get more strict. Maybe you stop eating some meals altogether. In the name of “health.” 

There are many examples, and other avenues this can take. But ultimately, we’re letting something have a throne in our lives other than Christ. 

Why does it matter, you might ask? 

Psalm 115:2-8 (emphasis added) 

Why do they nations say, 

“where is their God?”

Our God is in heaven,

he does whatever pleases him.

But their idols are silver and gold,

made by human hands.

They have ears, but cannot hear,

noses, but cannot smell.

They have hands, but cannot feel, 

feet, but cannot walk,

nor can they utter a sound with their throats.

Those who make them will be like them, 

and so will all who trust in them. 

The biggest reason this matters, is we become like the idols we allow in our lives. We stop hearing. We stop feeling. Our perception is interrupted by a new perception that we think is truth, and in reality, it’s a lie. 

I don't know about you, but I don't want anything to take the place of Christ in my life. I definitely don't want to have ears and not hear, hands and not feel because of my own choices. 

This is why we need trustworthy friends. That person we let say the hard things; the things that sting. We need that friend who knows what we’re capable of and encourages us to not live like we’re anything less.
I think it’s interesting that a popular topic these days is accountability. We’re in a generation that rejects accountability on the “don’t judge me” concept. Accountability isn’t judgement. Accountability says “there’s more in you, there’s better in you than this.” It’s a call and helping hand to propel you to the greatness that’s in you. Accountability isn’t “wow, look at all the terrible things you did”, accountability is “wow, look at the amazing things you are made to do.” If you don’t have that in your life, you are truly missing out.

Obviously, these are two separate topics, but not really. Because good accountability will alert me to an idol in my life. If I can just be humble and hear them out, instead of immediately justifying and getting defensive.
If I can have ears to hear, accountability might save me from the idol I’m building. 

Prison

I keep thinking about Paul. So many critical moments and teachings came from the prison. 

Yet he had joy. He was full of joy actually. He had peace. He was content. 

Sadly, I find myself completely dissatisfied in my own life when I’m not where I want to be. 

What if the prison is where we’re called to be? What if we never leave it? Will I be content? Full of joy? Peace? Sometimes the prison doesn’t have bars or walls. Sometimes it’s a season of life. We want it to be over, but it lingers on. 

I find myself relating to Paul. Don’t worry, I’m not that arrogant; I know I’m not in chains for the gospel. But the place I’m in seems very disconnected. Isolated. Out of touch. I feel like I’m out of the game. On the sidelines where no one even remembers I used to play. As a person of action, this is tough. I’m an all or nothing person, and when it comes to Jesus, it’s ALL. 

But here I sit on the bench, longing to get back in the game and do something useful again. 

But I look at Paul. Not once do I get the impression that he felt like he was out of the game. If anything, he rejoiced that he was in the will of God. He never counted himself out. How? What is this perspective?

I know that where I am is where I’m supposed to be. It’s time to quiet the questions. Because if I never leave the prison, I don’t want it to change a thing. That no matter what happens, I conduct myself worthy of the gospel of Christ. 

Paul never gave up. He never despaired. What if he wasted time comparing himself to others outside the prison? What a different story he would have told if he had. There’s a reason Paul was chosen for the prison. It couldn’t have been just anyone. What an honor. I want to live that way. I want the Lord to entrust difficult things to me. Not because I’m so awesome, but because I’m faithful. Because I’m a good steward. Can he trust me with the prison? Even if I never leave it? Lord, help me, I hope so. 

I just want to be faithful where he’s called me. One day at a time. I want to rejoice. I want to be full of joy. That every cell mate would see Jesus in me. Not despair. Not hopelessness. Not defeat. Not frustration. Just Jesus. 

And really, this is who we’re supposed to be. As believers, hope is our thing. Joy is our thing. Peace is our thing. We’re not like those who don’t know and are tossed around by everything that comes their way. No matter what we face, we have the option to choose joy. To choose hope. To choose peace. To choose to be content. It’s up to us. 

So here I sit on the sidelines. Patiently. Joyfully. Gratefully. Thankfully. Content to be here. 
And believing that even here, I’ll live to the fullest every moment the Lord gives me. 

Tension

When I look around these days, I see a lot of tension. Everywhere. There is no place that seems to lack for it. There are conflicting voices and opinions flying around faster than we can keep up, quite frankly.

We all seem to be in a race to have the loudest opinion, the best argument, the quickest shut down, the wittiest retort, you name it.

Overall, we seem quite keen to make others feel foolish, and regret sharing their opinion at all. We’re masters at the art of ostracizing, even if it’s people we used to respect or care for. It little matters now.

That wouldn’t be so troubling to me, if believers weren’t as quick to jump into the fray as everyone else.

I know, we all want to share Truth in these times where truth has becoming purely subjective.

In some regard, I don’t disagree. I think there should be a voice for Truth, especially now when the world has traded Truth for lies. I think there are some moral issues in our day that are impossible to stay silent about.

Personally, the madness we’re currently seeing in our world makes me want to address every lie with a megaphone, if we’re being honest. But I have to realize that as we move closer to the end of things, it’s only going to get more insane. More backwards. Filled with even more lies.

But here’s what’s so concerning to me, fellow Jesus-followers.

We don’t need to share opinions for opinion’s sake.

If we put our voice into the mix, and it is utterly devoid of Christ, what good is it?

Just another opinion? Another argument to be had? To what end? Will someone come to know Jesus through your argument? Will someone feel loved, cared for, or heard? Will someone see that there is real hope?

I’m afraid not.

Romans 2:4* talks about how it is the kindness of God that leads us to repentance.

Here’s a simple thought: If we are not kind, how will anyone ever believe that He is??

1 Corinthians 13:1** says that without love in our speech, we’re nothing more than a lot of noise.

Now I’m paraphrasing, but you get the idea.

If there is no love in our speech, it’s just an obnoxious sound that no one will listen to.

I find myself increasingly concerned that in this era of tension and constant information we believers are getting swept along with it. We’re getting sucked into needing to shout our opinions along with everyone else, in the name of truth. Maybe we're worried that we need to do something, so anything is better than nothing. 

But we can’t do it like everyone else. We can be unyielding in our commitment to the Word of God, and still be kind. Again, why will anyone care about a God who loves them if we who represent him are unkind, unloving and just plain ugly?

We’re made to live in the tension and not be overcome by it. We can do this. 

All I know is that the tension isn’t going to go away. If anything, it’s getting worse. 

So we have to be aware. We can’t be flesh people anymore, we have to be spirit people, and live like it.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.***

As scripture says, against such things there is no law.

*Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?

Romans 2:4 

**If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

1 Corinthians 13:1 

***But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

Hidden

Hidden

Out of sight 

Out of view

Out of accolades

It's just me and you 

Hidden

Where no one remembers 

Where no one else goes

Where no one notices

Where no one even knows 

Hidden

Where you want me

Where I need it 

Where I hate it 

Where I'll submit 

Hidden 

Out of comfort 

Out of certainty

Out of familiar 

We're proving worthy 

Hidden 

Where you show me 

Where you find me

Where I find you

No other place to be 

Pride

I’ve been thinking about pride a lot lately. I’m bothered by it. I see it differently now than I used to. 

Sometimes I think we’re confused about what pride really is. Growing up I thought pride meant thinking way more highly of myself than was accurate. Or thinking I was really awesome at something when I wasn’t. And sure, you could say that those things are prideful. Or delusional, maybe. 

But I’ve found pride is far more pervasive and subtle.

People like to say that pride is simply thinking of yourself more than you should. I disagree. 

Thinking of yourself more than you should is called being selfish. Pride and selfishness are connected, sure. But they are not one and the same. 

Pride is in everything we think. Pride is in everything we do. Pride is a filter through which everything we think flows. Meaning, everything we think, the choices we make, how we view the world is filtered through pride. Pride controls our perspective. Pride keeps us from seeing what’s true, and makes the truth sound like a lie. 

Ultimately pride equals trust. I trust what *I* think. I trust what *I* know. Simply, I trust ME. 

This is pride. Pride quietly and subtly enforces the house of thought that says “I KNOW BEST.” 

It’s hard for us to recognize this or admit it. Because we’re very good at justifying why our pride is not and could never be pride. But we need to understand that this is pride’s tactic. To never be recognized. Because when we see pride for what it is, it loses it’s hold on us. As long as we deny our pride, it holds all the power and we remain slaves to it. 

You could wonder why this matters. Because you could make the argument that your pride really isn’t hurting anyone else. And for a while, that is probably true. But that won’t last. 

Here’s why: 

Proverbs 16:18 

Pride goes before destruction, and haughtiness before a fall. 

This matters because we need to understand that the Word of God is ALWAYS true. 

This matters because we need to understand that we can’t control the fallout our pride will lead us into. 

We cannot control who our pride will hurt. When that destruction hits (and it will), it will destroy whoever is in our path. That could be husbands or wives, our children. Our friends, siblings, people who look up to us. The list goes on, and there is nothing we can do to stop it. It will be painful beyond our imagination. Beyond our highest thought. All the things we were sure we knew won’t matter at all. 

I know this is hard to believe, and as you’re reading it, you’re getting flustered or upset. Because you’re seeing areas of your life that could be deeply infiltrated by pride, and it’s scary. Because to put down the pride makes us vulnerable. We have to release all control. We have to truly acknowledge that God does know best and we DO NOT HAVE TO UNDERSTAND. 

I know it can seem like there is no hope. But there is. 

We can be humble. We can humble ourselves. It might be hard to know where to start. And this is why the Holy Spirit is such a good friend. He’ll show you where the pride is. He surely has and continues to show me. 

Humility is our only safe path. It’s hard, I’m not going to lie to you. It will seem really unfair. Humility will demand more of you than anything else. But consider for a moment all that is at stake. 

Your children could be at stake. Your future could be at stake. All your hopes and goals could be at stake. 

Pride sits in firm opposition from the Lord. It always has, and always will. It draws the battle lines and hopes we’ll take up arms on it’s side. And most often, we do. Because pride doesn’t sound prideful. Pride sounds like us. It sounds pretty good, right, reasonable, logical and understandable. 

Remember for a moment, Eve, in the Garden. Why did she eat the fruit? Because she was concerned that maybe there was something SHE didn’t know. And that desire stamped out trust. Her need to be in control was greater than continuing in humble trust that God was in control and that everything he had set up was best. 

John 8:32 says that the truth will set you free. This is a spiritual principle. I believe this isn't just about KNOWING the truth. But in every area of our lives, when we know the TRUTH and when we ADMIT the truth (even if it's ugly and wrapped up in our sin and pride) that is when we can truly be FREE. We can't be free from things we can't admit are true.

Humility is quiet. Humility learns to sit in the unseen and be content. Humility learns to go unnoticed and overlooked and not become bitter. 

Humility is willing to admit it's not in charge. It smiles and says “I don’t know best.” It doesn’t demand control, because humility knows it can’t be in control. 

It’s the harder position, because in our pride we want to know best. But it’s the safer position. 

Humility is what keeps us close to the Lord. 

Disillusion

I was singing these words to my son today while getting him dressed, “all my life You have been faithful, all my life You have been so, so good.” 

And the words caught me for a moment, as I looked into Lennox’ big brown eyes as he watched me sing. Some day I’ll have to explain why I sing the phrase “all my life You have been faithful.” I’ll have to show him and tell him why those are not just words I mindlessly sing. 

Those words have deep meaning. They’ve come from years of faithfulness. Years of serving. Painful seasons. Hard seasons. Humbling seasons. 

I think when we’re young it’s so easy to get disillusioned. We have expectations of exactly how things should happen, how things should look, and when it’s different the disappointment hits hard. We start to wonder, “where are you, God?” “Why did you let this happen?” “Why didn’t you stop this?” 

Believe me, I get it. These were questions I was asking not that long ago. 

I think we misinterpret the faithfulness of God. I think sometimes we think because God is good, he won’t let bad things happen to us. Because he’s faithful, he’ll keep us from suffering. Because we do all the “right things” nothing should be going wrong. 

But that’s not what faithfulness is. Faithfulness means that when I stand in the fire, he stands with me. Faithfulness means when I’m walking in the valley of the shadow of death, he’s walking with me. Faithfulness means that whatever comes, he is with me. 

Sometimes we wait to see the big miracle, but it doesn’t come. We lived that last year in the Madrid home. We waited and believed for a big miracle. We didn’t see it. We woke up on June 15, 2018 and saw nothing. There was no big miracle. We were at a complete loss. We didn’t know where to go, where to start, what to do, nothing. We had no answers.

We were being catapulted into a new realm of faith and trust. One we never would have asked for, or hoped for. 

Since then, we’ve seen miracles. New opportunities, new jobs, etc. But we don’t celebrate the job as if that’s the only expression of God’s faithfulness. We celebrate his faithfulness because he was faithful to us when there was no job. I believe it is the kindness of God, the nature of God, to provide for us. But faithfulness is not just what he does, it’s who He is. 

We saw his faithfulness that whole summer when we had no answers. We saw his goodness in the nothing. 

Disillusionment bothers me. Because we’re all susceptible to it. We all go through hard things. We all face heartbreak and heartache. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the only person who has had to face something hard and that makes your disillusionment ok. This is something everyone can understand. 

What changes things is when we understand who God really is, in spite of everything we see with our eyes happening around us. 

You have to know that He is for you. In every situation, He is for you. He is working out the very best for you in every moment. When you’re lost, and hurting, He is right there with you. He doesn’t disappear when things go crazy. He’s the Rock. He doesn’t move, change, or leave.   

This is why we have to learn the secret of being content, no matter what comes. The Apostle Paul said it so well, “For I can do everything through Christ, who strengthens me.” 

Life is hard sometimes. But don’t give up. If you hear nothing else, hear that. Don’t give up. It won’t be dark forever, there is HOPE. 

Not that I was ever in need, for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ,^c who gives me strength. Even so, you have done well to share with me in my present difficulty.

Philippians 4:11-14

Songwriting

A while back I was asked to share about my songwriting process. To be honest, it’s taken me some time to figure out what to say about it. 

And honestly, we have to dig a little deeper in order to have this conversation. I’m not going to sit here and give you 10 tips on how to be a better songwriter. Sure, I can give you some ideas, and share my thoughts on what I do. But it’s bigger than that. 

We need to talk about identity. 

Here’s the truth: I’m not a “songwriter.” That’s not a title I carry around or identify myself by. For a long time growing up I was trying to figure out that “title.” How many songs did I need to write in order to consider myself a “songwriter?” How many stories, or poems to call myself a “writer” and not be considered a total fraud? 

I think we really like titles. It makes things easy and we can fit everything into a certain box that makes sense to us. But I could never find a title that fit. Truly. In my head I tried on a dozen different titles and none of them seemed to embody my identity. Like a puzzle piece that’s almost right, but still not quite, nothing fit. 

About 2 months ago, I had this revelation about my identity. I realized I’m a storyteller. And I know lots of people like to claim that title, but there’s nothing cliche about it for me. Because let me tell you, I can look back over my whole life and see how being a storyteller is entwined throughout every moment. All the way back to childhood. It’s in everything I do. It’s how I view the world; how I view people.

This was a very important epiphany for me. It changed the way I view what I do. 

So first of all: 

You need to know who you are. 

If you don’t know who you are, you’ll forever write from an imposter’s point of view. You’ll waste countless years writing from a perspective that isn’t yours and doesn’t fit. It won’t ever communicate what you want it to, because it’s not YOU. You’ll be standing outside the window, looking in at what you want to say but never being able to get to it. 

So first things first, you need to discover who you are. 

• I would suggest a lot of conversations with the Lord, and a lot of time in the Word. But that’s just a quick side note. 

Once you understand that, the rest gets a lot easier. 

For me, songwriting is equal parts process and discipline. 

Sometimes I just have to sit down and work and work at a song, and try a million different things until you find the thing that works. It involves throwing out a lot of ideas, even ones you really wanted to work. It's not giving up quickly when the idea isn't there. The discipline of spending time and effort on an idea is so valuable because sometimes that discipline really does lead you to the result you wanted. Believe me, I've sat at keyboard and played the same chord progression dozens and dozens of times over trying to shape an idea. It's worth it. 

But other times I have found there’s a significant process to (song)writing. I have songs that have sat on the proverbial shelf for years until one day an idea hits me for it. I have songs that I wrote 10-15+ years ago that had a verse or chorus I didn’t like so I didn’t finish the song because I couldn’t “find” the right part. But then I take it out one day, play through it and find the exact phrase that was missing. I’ve learned I have to be ok with that process. Some songs take time to finish. I think songs have seasons. It’s possible I couldn’t finish the song because that song isn’t “in season” yet. Might sound weird, but it’s definitely been true in my experience. 

It was important for me to realize I can’t force something to happen. I’ve yet to see that produce anything. If I try to force something to fit just because I want be done with a song, it’s rarely (if ever) what I want it to be. 

I’ve also found that sometimes I don’t know what I want a song to be, but I definitely know what I don’t want it to be. And I've had to learn to be ok with that tension until I find what I'm looking for. 

Writing is spiritual to me. I can’t just sit down and write something for the sake of writing. There has to be purpose in it. And for me, the purpose always leans toward the eternal. 

I tend to find creativity for it’s own sake is pointless, irrelevant, even. I’m not a good enough writer to sit down and throw something on a page for no reason and have it turn into something worth reading. The truth is, I don’t enjoy reading things that have no purpose. Because for me, it’s about storytelling. Storytelling for no purpose is not really storytelling. 

People need to be inspired. 

People need hope. 

Those are huge priorities to me in writing. It’s fine to write about hard things, but I think you have to give people a light on the horizon somewhere. 

That’s a window into my process, if you want to talk tips or how to write that’s a whole other thing. 

But if you have questions, don’t be shy. I love questions.