not the land

So many miles behind
Still I drive with the pedal down
I was off the map hours back
It’s beneath the seat, I think
It’s with two pennies and a match
And something else, I can’t remember
But in the time that it would take to fish it out
I’ll be another mile gone

And I feel so wrong
Trying to feel right
In light of all the things I’ve passed
You’d think that I’d have learned

This is not the land was promised me
Even as far as my eyes can see
I’m so wound up, Lord, I can’t even breathe
And I don’t want words
I just want some peace
Some peace, some peace

It seems I’ve misplaced my faith
‘Cause it’s 11:12, nothing’s changed
Well, nothing except the channel I’m afraid
And the number there
No, it’s the same
Oh, this must be the savior of the month
And what I must have
Where’s the night gone?
‘Cause I’m so tired and out of shape
You’ve gotta get me up
But I can’t get up today

‘Cause it’s been so long
Since I’ve felt right
All the rote, rehearsal, proof
You’d think that I’d have learned

This is not the land was promised me
Even as far as my eyes can see
I’m so wound up, Lord, I can’t even breathe
And I don’t want words
I just want some peace
Some peace, some peace

Break me, break me, break me

This is not the land was promised me
Gotta get out of bed, get something to read
I gotta feed my brother, not my eyes
If not, then I’ll be all I despise
This is not the land was promised me
Even as far as my eyes can see
I’m so wound up, Lord, I can’t even breathe
And I don’t want words
I just want some peace


Derek Webb: Caedmon's Call

diffuse and vague

Many people confuse the conviction of sin with such feelings as inferiority, lack of self-confidence and so on. Yet whoever observes people closely can see that these feelings and the conviction of sin are not only different from each other but in certain regards are mutually exclusive. A diffuse and vague guilt feeling kills the personality, whereas the conviction of sin gives life to the personality. The former depends on people, on public opinion, while the latter depends on God.

~Paul Tournier

Flail

If you can't run to where you need to go, walk.

If you can't walk, crawl.

and if you can't crawl - FLAIL!

Brandon Brown

Person

Suffering is sometimes a mystery. We must affirm both the mystery and God. The paradox remained, but now, at least, Job knew that it belonged there -- that it is built into the moral and physical orders, and into the very nature of God as He has permitted us humans to perceive Him. In a world where the universal principle is cause/effect, the book of Job reminds us that the principle is a reflection of the mysterious, self-revealing God. It is subsumed under Him, however, and He cannot be subsumed under it. The God-speeches remind us that a Person, not a principle, is Lord.

C. H. Bullock

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high of 75

We were talking together
I said, “What’s up with this weather?”
Don't know whether or not
How sad I just got
Was on my own volition
Or if I’m just missing the sun

And tomorrow I know
Will be rainy at best
And the forecast I know
Is that I’ll be depressed
But I’ll wait outside
Hoping that I’ll catch sight of the sun

Because on and off
The clouds have fought for control over the sky
And lately the weather has been so bi-polar
And consequently so have I

But now I’m
Sunny with a high of 75
Since you took my heavy heart and made it light
And it's funny how you find you enjoy your life
When you’re happy to be alive

And the temperature is freezing
And then after dark
There’s a cold front
Sweeping in over my heart
And we might break up
If I don’t wake up to the sun

Because on and off
The clouds have fought for control over the sky
And lately the weather has been so bi-polar
And consequently so have I

But now I’m
Sunny with a high of 75
Since you took my heavy heart and made it light
And it's funny how you find you enjoy your life
When you’re happy to be alive


~relient K

compassion

THERE IS AN EVERLASTING KINDNESS You lavished on us,
When the radiance of heaven came to rescue the lost.
You called the sheep without a shepherd to leave their distress
For Your streams of forgiveness and the shade of Your rest.

What boundless love, what fathomless grace
You have shown us, O God of compassion.
Each day we live an offering of praise
As we show to the world Your compassion.

And with compassion for the hurting You reached out Your hand
As the lame ran to meet You and the dead breathed again.
You saw behind the eyes of sorrow and shared in our tears;
Heard the sigh of the weary, let the children draw near.

We stood beneath the cross of Calvary and gazed on Your face
At the thorns of oppression and wounds of disgrace;
For surely You have borne our suffering and carried out grief,
As You pardoned the scoffer and showed grace to the thief.

How beautiful the feet that carry this Gospel of peace
To the fields of injustice and the valleys of need.
To be a voice of hope and healing, to answer the cries
Of the hungry and helpless, with the mercy of Christ.


Keith Getty, Kristyn Getty & Stuart Townend
Copyright © 2008 Thankyou Music

shines

The Christian is in a different position from other people who are trying to be good. They hope, by being good, to please God if there is one; or — if they think there is not — at least they hope to deserve approval from good men. But the Christian thinks any good he does comes from the Christ-life inside him. He does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us; just as the roof of a greenhouse does not attract the sun because it is bright, but becomes bright because the sun shines on it.

play

How can the characters in a play guess the plot? We are not the playwright, we are not the producer, we are not even the audience. We are on the stage. To play well the scenes in which we are “on” concerns us much more than to guess about the scenes that follow it. In King Lear there is a man who is such a minor character that Shakespeare has not given him a name: he is merely “First Servant.” All the characters around him – Regan, Cornwall, and Edmund – have fine long-term plans. They think they know how the story is going to end, and they are quite wrong. The servant has no such delusions. He has no notion how the play is going to go. But he understands the present scene. He sees an abomination (the blinding of old Gloucester) taking place. He will not stand it. His sword is out and pointed at his master’s breast in a moment: then Regan stabs him dead from behind. That is his whole part: eight lines all told. But if it were real life and not a play, that is the part it would be best to have acted

and why on earth it matters

There have been times when I think we do not desire heaven; but more often I find myself wondering whether, in our heart of hearts, we have ever desired anything else. You may have noticed that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. You know very well what is the common quality that makes you love them, though you cannot put it into words: but most of your friends do not see it at all, and often wonder why, liking this, you should also like that. Again, you have stood before some landscape, which seems to embody what you have been looking for all your life; and then turned to the friend at your side who appears to be seeing what you saw-but at the first words a gulf yawns between you, and you realize that this landscape means something totally different to him, that he is pursuing an alien vision and cares nothing for the ineffable suggestion by which you are transported. Even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret attraction which others are curiously ignorant of-something, not to be identified with, but always on the verge of breaking through, the smell of cut wood in the workshop or the clap-clap of water against the boat’s side? Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been hints of it-tantalising glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest-if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself-you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say ‘Here at last is the thing I was made for.’ We cannot tell each other about it. It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we desired before we met our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work. While we are, this is. If we lose this, we lose all.
This signature on each soul may be a product of heredity and environment, but that only means that heredity and environment are among the instruments whereby God creates a soul. I am considering not how, but why, He makes each soul unique. If He had no use for all these differences, I do not see why He should have created more souls than one. Be sure that the ins and outs of your individuality are no mystery to Him; and one day they will no longer be a mystery to you. The mould in which a key is made would be a strange thing, if you had never seen a key: and the key itself a strange thing if you had never seen a lock. Your soul has a curious shape because it is a hollow made to fit a particular swelling in the infinite contours of the Divine substance, or a key to unlock one of the doors in the house with many mansions. For it is not humanity in the abstract that is to be saved, but you-you, the individual reader, John Stubbs or Janet Smith. Blessed and fortunate creature, your eyes shall behold Him and not another’s. All that you are, sins apart, is destined, if you will let God have His good way, to utter satisfaction. The Brocken spectre ‘looked to every man like his first love’, because she was a cheat. But God will look to every soul like its first love because He is its first love. Your place in heaven will seem to be made for you and you alone, because you were made for it-made for it stitch by stitch as a glove is made for a hand.

The Call of the Kingdom

Hear the call of the kingdom
Lift your eyes to the King
Let His song rise within you
As a fragrant offering
Of how God rich in mercy
Came in Christ to redeem
All who trust in His unfailing grace

Hear the call of the Kingdom
To be children of light
With the mercy of heaven
The humility of Christ
Walking justly before Him
Loving all that is right
That the life of Christ may shine through us

King of Heaven we will answer the call
We will follow bringing hope to the world
Filled with passion, filled with power to proclaim
Salvation in Jesus' name

Hear the call of the Kingdom
To reach out to the lost
With the Father's compassion
In the wonder of the cross
Bringing peace and forgiveness
And a hope yet to come
Let the nations put their trust in Him

Hear the call of the kingdom
Lift your eyes to the King
Let His song rise within you
As a fragrant offering
Of how God rich in mercy
Came in Christ to redeem
All who trust in His unfailing grace

Hear the call of the Kingdom
To be children of light
With the mercy of heaven
The humility of Christ
Walking justly before Him
Loving all that is right
That the life of Christ may shine through us

King of Heaven we will answer the call
We will follow bringing hope to the world
Filled with passion, filled with power to proclaim
Salvation in Jesus' name

Hear the call of the Kingdom
To reach out to the lost
With the Father's compassion
In the wonder of the cross
Bringing peace and forgiveness
And a hope yet to come
Let the nations put their trust in Him


Words and Music by Keith Getty and Stuart Townend
Copyright © 2006 Thankyou Music

CCLI No:4930752.

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desire

We must not be unjust and require from ourselves what is not in ourselves. Do not desire not to be what you are, but desire to be very well what you are.

François de Sales

How deep

How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocing voice,
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom


Stuart Townend

Ye Sinners

Come Ye Sinners


Come ye sinners, poor and needy
Weak and wounded, sick and sore
Jesus ready stands to save you
Full of pity, love, and power

Come ye thirsty, come and welcome
God's free bounty glorify
True belief and true repentance
Every grace that brings you nigh

I will arise and go to Jesus
He will embrace me in His arms
In the arms of my dear Savior
Oh, there are ten thousand charms

Come ye weary, heavy-laden
Lost and ruined by the fall
If you tarry until you're better
You will never come at all

I will arise and go to Jesus
He will embrace me in His arms
In the arms of my dear Savior
Oh, there are ten thousand charms

I will arise and go to Jesus
He will embrace me in His arms
In the arms of my dear Savior
Oh, there are ten thousand charms


~Todd Agnew

Grace Like Rain

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now I'm found
Was blind but now I see so clearly

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me
Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me
Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away

When we've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun
We've no less days to sing Your praise
Than when we first begun

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me
Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me
Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away

Todd Agnew

rest

It is not necessary to maintain a conversation when we are in the presence of God. We can come into His presence and rest our weary souls in quiet contemplation of Him. Our groanings, which cannot be uttered, rise to Him and tell Him better than words how dependent we are upon Him.

O. Hallesby

April Showers

Oh, like April showers on the slick cement
When I consider how our light is spent
Keeping the candles inside the cathedral
Hold on tight, Don’t go into the night
So full of evil, evil

Rain rain don’t go away
We need you this dry and dusty day
Rain rain don’t go away
Though some may say please go away

Like the April Showers on the slick cement
And the roads once straight have now become so bent
Weaving through the trees of vain security
Rounding round the hard rocks of hard morality

Rain rain don’t go away
We need you this dry and dusty day
Rain rain don’t go away
Though some may say please go away

And the sacred cows
Feed on the green
While the least of these
Are dying on the streets
And they’re crying…

~ Aaron Tate; caedmon's call

praises

Let us go and wake up the universe... and sing His praises.

Mariam Baouardy

You wore my thorns

You wore my thorns, that I may know Your grace
Pierced by my sin, that I may see Your face
Loved and forgiven from shame and deep disgrace
You wore my thorns, You wore my thorns.

You wore my robe, You let them mock and sneer
You took the beating, You knew I could not bear
In this silent moment, I turn and see You there
You wore my robe, You wore my robe.

You felt my nails, and watched the hammer fall
Legions of angels You refused to call
Watched they who loved You, holy and appalled
You felt my nails, You felt my nails.

You bore my cross, You bore Your father’s frown
Tears on His face, His judgment took You down
Now it’s my turn to wear the thorny crown
For You bore my cross, You bore my cross.

You died my death, You gave Your life for me
Laid in my tomb of sin, You set me free
You loved a girl, who hurt You terribly
You died my death, You died my death.

Teach me to love what once I so despised
Live for Your smile, the love light in Your eyes
Ignite a flame of love that never dies,
You wore my thorns, You wore my thorns!

Jill Briscoe

"Come to Jesus"

Oh, my baby, when you're older
Maybe then you'll understand
You have angels that stand around your shoulders
'Cause at times in life you need a loving hand

Oh, my baby, when you're prayin'
Leave your burden by my door
You have Jesus standing by your bedside
To keep you calm, keep you safe,
Away from harm

Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don't seem worth livin'
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms

Oh, my baby, when you're cryin'
Never hide your face from me
I've conquered hell and driven out the demons
I have come with a life to set you free

Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don't seem worth livin'
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms

Oh, oh
Oh, oh
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Oh, my baby, when you're dying
Believe the healing of His hand
Here in Heaven we will wait for your arrival
Here in Heaven you will finally understand
Here in Heaven we will wait for your arrival
Here in Heaven you will finally understand

Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don't seem worth livin'
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms

~by Mindy Smith, album "One Moment More", Vanguard Records 2004
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