In the past insane week, Kat and I have been blessed to see a little more clearly the fullness and purpose of God through giving and prayer. Community was certainly built this morning, as we spent the entirety of Sunday School praying in a small cluster. And indeed, I felt the retaliation of the Enemy like a weight around my neck later on. Praise God that he brings me back from the grave. I feel quite a bit more committed to music and playing and writing songs that reflect Christ in my life a little more. I don't quite know why, but I always felt an inadequacy to express these things in a manner that would not be campy and cheesy, and the knowledge I have in Christ is anything but. But yesterday, I walked out of a class on worldview integration with Nathan and we strolled up into downtown for lunch at MacLeod's, all the while feeling out conversation peppered with moments of changing and binding Grace. I talked a lot about my relationship with my dad. And certainly, after several revealing times and talks with friends beyond that, I feel more driven to reveal the mystery and the beauty that is Christ in God through songs. I hope one day that all doubt will be gone in this, but perhaps that is my own thorn. And, perhaps, I will soon better understand the strange and sometimes uncanny place that music, and indeed art, plays in this Great Story of the Lamb and his Bride. Many recent thanks; to Andrew Peterson and crew for always being honest with me and for living in the Spirit, to Kenny Woodhull for being passionate and Kingdom-minded, to Adam Feldman for giving me a swift kick, and to my sweet wife for being herself and more. This list seems shortish, but I think the rest of what I could say is a little too personal for mass internet publication, but there are more thanks to give indeed. And thank you, for reading...
In other news, I several dates coming up, some with Greg Adkins, some with other folks joining me to play some songs that I have been given. I'll try to remember to keep the website always updated with new concerts, provided that they exist (hint, hint, if you are a venue manager).
Our house, yesterday, was punctuated by the antics of children. Not our own, but sometimes I feel otherwise. But that's a good thing. Courtney and Matthew, Kat's little cousins, came over and baked bread with Kat and made real butter (of which I ate some). I must say to you, I think I would sin for real butter. Perhaps it is a sin in of itself, like a little white creamy lie on rye. But we sent it back with the kids, and I don't feel that I have gained too much in rotundity from it, although I do need to get back to running, among other disciplines.