daniel boone

Writing songs is a lot like pioneering. The white, blank page is a western horizon, and the guitar is a horse, still wild, yet sometimes rideable. If your writing music it’s because something on the inside of you is unsettled and restless. It’s not that the other songs are bad because they’re not. It’s just that for the songwriter there’s a need to head off into wilderness of life, and melody, and emotion, and lyric, and try to stake some sort of a claim. It’s this gnawing notion that even though everything has been said, that there might be another way to get there, a more interesting way, a short-cut even.

I have a song due in a few hours. I say due, because in my community, even though lots of us write pretty often, we come together every summer and write every two weeks from May to August, and if you don’t have a song on the due date, you’re out. There’s nothing like a due date to keep you in the pioneering spirit!

Anyhow, I’ve been hacking my way through this song for the past week and up until this morning, I wasn’t totally sure where I was even going. That’s the thing about writing, you have to embrace a certain amount of mystery. Where am I going? I don’t really know. I’m just following an instinctual path that’s barely there, one worn down by the wildlife. And then, when it seems like it may be a path to nowhere, the dense forest reveals a stream where thirsty souls can find a drink, and I think I may have found that stream, for this week anyway.

You know, that’s songwriting – looking for things that you can’t even articulate at the beginning of the journey, things that you know immediately when you stumble upon them. It’s searching for a melody, cutting out a lyrical path from a forest filled with options, and making a home where there was nothing, or very little before. Songwriting is a restless heart that just knows that there’s more ‘out there’, that perhaps we haven’t seen it all. It’s a heart that just can’t settle comfortably into what already is. Praise God for settlers, they really are good people, but we’re not them. We’re wilder, Daniel Boone types. We’re marking out the territory of the human heart, mapping it out moment by moment, line by line. We’ve got calloused hands, and wrinkled faces, and a notion that West is a better direction than East.

Adam

a well directed life

36 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment.

Matthew 22:36-38

Sometimes we would like to make Jesus a post-modern. Sometimes we look for ways to round the sharp edges a bit, take the things that He says, and dull the knife of His word down to a spoon, a spoon to feed ourselves with. That’s one of the things that post-modernity is really good at – dulling the edges, so no once gets cut, so there is no blood.

We would rather have Jesus say something like this – “Guys, just live a life of love.”

It sounds good, it rings true in our post-enlightened ears . And certainly no one would argue that ‘not loving’ or pursuing a life of hate to be better. But at the same time it is curious that Jesus boils life down to this one thing, this one specific thing – love God, love Him first, and love him most.

To love God first and most, aligns a person with the most foundational truths in the universe, that there is, in fact, a God and that He is good. It is to really wake up to the fact that we are already loved by him – it is a responding to what actually already is. Miss this, miss everything.

And so to pursue ‘living a life of love’ apart from God begs the question – from what source are you drawing? After all the scriptures are clear, God is love (1John 4:8) To love God first and most settles that one question, and enables a person to actually live in concert with heaven. It brings a genuineness, an authenticity, that has the distinct aroma of Jesus.

Pursuing love apart from God is usually, not always, but usually simply a socially acceptable form of soothing our own insecurities. We love so that we will be loved. We love in hopes of being loved. We feel so unloved, and so full of anxiety that rather than living for the benefit of others we are actually living for our own – but ever so subtly, most people may never even notice. In the long run, this sort of love, which is really not love at all, has a way of magnifying our insecurities, until, at last, our true heart is revealed.

But loving God settles all that because it is first a revelation of our own being loved. That he really did love us first, before we even knew him, before we had ever heard his name, before we drew our first breath, God loved us. We’ve always been loved and so loving Him back is an awakening of sorts, a kind that has a way of melting all our fears and insecurities. It’s why perfect love (God’s kind of love) casts out fear.

Even now we can wake up. We don’t have to sleep forever. We could open our eyes, and stretch our bodies, and arise into the dawn of life. True life is loving God, first, and most. True life is being loved by God, and knowing it, down in our hearts, in the center of our being where facts and feelings are intertwined like a warm blanket – I am loved by God – I will love my God.

Peace!

Adam

responding to God

Have you seen anything beautiful?

Has your heart been melted?

Have you been brought low, all the way down to tears and weeping?

Have you laughed and had your very bones soaked with joy?

Have you heard the voice of God?

Have you felt the love of the Father, even when you weren’t exactly doing great?

I could keep asking questions. You could keep a running tally. We could keep score. But truthfully it wouldn’t even matter. Point is, the beginning of any song, especially a song that will be sung by the church is some sort of an encounter with God.

I know some people might push back on that idea, fearing that I’m proposing a life with God that is solely based on feelings – or perhaps I’m suggesting that songwriting is meant for those brief moments when one is filled with inspiration.

Trust me, I understand the traps of only writing when one feels inspired. The net result of that approach is a notebook filled with half-finished songs, which are about as good as half-baked brownies – a little too gooey, and lacking the addictive, crunchy corners…

As for a life with God based on feelings, I say why not? He did in fact give them to people, and when he declared creation ‘good’ he was declaring feelings and emotions good as well. I know that our feelings can trick us, but so can our intellect. I know that faith and feelings are not the same thing, but life with God is richer and more textured than a purely intellectual, reason-based faith will allow.

I bring it all up because people often ask me about songwriting and how to develop a culture of songwriting. The most basic answer is this – what have you seen, experienced and come to truly know in God?

Worship is essentially responding to God. Seeing Him for who He really is and then responding to that in what ever means is available to us. Songs are really great for responding to God because songs contain another dimension of truth, melody. People sing when words alone are not enough, when they encounter truth that sits in a space too lofty for language.

If you want to write songs, encounter God. If you want to create a culture of songwriting, make a space where people can encounter God. Take some time to reflect upon His goodness, help the people you are sharing life with to see the nearness and affection of God. He isn’t avoiding you or your church. He’s right in our midst, if we can just see him. And if we can catch a glimpse, we can write, and sing, and respond.

Peace!

Adam

blessed to neediness

Near the weak, that’s one of the easiest places to find God. The socially awkward, the never-quite-got-it-right, the sick, the loony, the brokenhearted, and the embarrassing are some of his best friends. I forgot to mention the annoying, but they are also in Jesus’ inner-circle.

It’s one of the complicated parts of walking with God. Complicated because just being with awkward or annoying people can be really difficult. Complicated because as a person grows in love for God, one will eventually grow in love for the things that God loves – and God loves people.

Now to be fair, God loves the rich and powerful too. In fact he loves them just as much as he loves single moms who barely make bills. He’s equal opportunity. The trouble is that the rich and powerful aren’t aware that they need God. They think they need a better financial advisor, a longer vacation, a swing coach or a remodeled bathroom. God never really makes the list, and so he isn’t invited, leaving him silent, standing in the room.

That’s one of the great, mind-bending facts of life – God never leaves the room, for anyone.

Our circumstances are all opportunities to recognize our need for God. The weak generally have no trouble coming to this logical conclusion, but the perfectly-matched struggle to make the connection even though their blessedness calls for the same answer.

When the bank account is zero and there are bills to be paid, or when we end up with an unexpected diagnosis our need for God gets highlighted with florescent brightness, but blessing has a way of clouding our judgement.

Make no mistake, blessing is a florescent color! Blessing opens doors and brings possibilities that we never imagined. Suddenly we’re living in unknown realms where we are being stretched – and the point of the stretching, at least in part, is for us to recognize our need for God. Sadly, we sometimes believe that we are the source of our blessing – that our strength, intellect, and talent has brought us to this place. We become the center, and move God to the side. Our awareness of him becomes dull, even though he is near. We begin living in a delusion, one of our own making.

If you are weak, cry out to God. If you are living next to an annoying neighbor, look close, God is there. And if you are blessed beyond measure, look out! Blessing is about to open up doors to realms where yesterday’s answers don’t work in quite the same way, a place where our need of him is exposed, if we can see it…

Peace!

experts

Being an expert is one of the heaviest burdens that a person can carry. Once a person reaches expert status there are certain expectations that get attached and the weight can be crushing.

There is something about being an expert that often stifles exploration, even though a pioneering, exploration spirit is one of the key ingredients that makes an expert. When a person breaks through and becomes something of an authority in a given discipline there are two forms of pride that subtly harden arteries and make progress difficult -

1) The notion that one knows all there is to know. It’s silly, but we are geniuses at fooling ourselves. When a person is an expert, they have accumulated a lot of knowledge and experience, and to acknowledge that one doesn’t know it all can be hard. As soon as one becomes closed off to the potential that more exists, as soon as advancement is seen as a personal challenge to one’s identity, rather than enhancement to one’s achievements, a hardening has occurred.

2) Fear of looking foolish. Experts have worked, and studied, and failed, and tried, and eventually broken through. And when a breakthrough comes, so does honor and notoriety and status. In fact the fruit of exploration can become the roots of fear that prevent the next breakthrough. Once a person becomes distinguished, who wants to risk reputation by heading out again, out into the unknown where fools and experts are on equal ground.

Let’s keep pressing for more!

Peace!

Adam

promise land

When Israel wandered in the desert they had a cloud to guide them in the day and a pillar of fire in the night (Ex 13:21). God was with them. In the morning they would wake and there would be fresh manna. On a couple of desperate occasions water came flowing out of a rock! God was guiding, and God was providing in spectacular fashion. But Israel wasn’t promised a desert wandering. They were promised a land, one flowing with milk and honey.

Here’s what’s interesting to me. After the desert wandering, and all the miracles, which is to say nothing of the supernatural deliverance that brought them out of Egypt, they stood upon the edge of the promise and there was a shift. Now they had to fight their enemies. And once they dispossessed those enemies, and took over the land as a home, inheriting the promise, they had to manage the land. If they were to eat, someone better be planting a garden. No more manna.

All of this is interesting because in the desert wandering God was incredibly close, and in the possession of the promise, God seemed absent. Of course he wasn’t, but things had changed, and the change was a part of God’s good plan!

Sometimes we feel as though we are wandering in the desert, and that God has forgotten us, but perhaps we’re standing in the promise. Mary received the promise of a son from an angel, she was overshadowed by the Spirit, and then, what seemed like 30 years of ‘normal’ – it was actually 30 years of living that very promise out in real life!

If you’re in the desert of God’s great provision, and promise, know this – a time is coming that will look profoundly normal – blessed but normal. If you are in the quiet of the promise, know this – God hasn’t left you at all, He’s near, as near as your very next breath.

Peace!

Adam

lewis and clark

One small change can change everything. My two main guitars hang right beside my desk, literally within reach. I planned the layout of my office this way. I like playing guitar and nothing keeps a person from playing quite like a guitar case. If you put your guitar in it’s case, inside of a closet, you may as well just go ahead and set it on fire and offer it to the guitar gods because there’s a good chance you’re never gonna see it again.

Anyhow, the guitar that’s closest to me is my acoustic Gibson J-45. I love that guitar and probably play it almost every day. In fact, I can’t remember a day when I didn’t pull it down and play at least a chord or two. One of the things I’ve noticed is that I tend to play certain things on that guitar. There is a certain way that guitar seems to want to be played, and after several years those ways, those approaches, have become ingrained like a habit I just can’t shake. Until the other day…

…When a friend of mine dropped off a new guitar amp that he just finished building. He wanted me to try it out and see what I thought, see if there were any bugs that needed running down. What a great friend huh? So I plugged the amp into the wall and grabbed my tele, and suddenly, within minutes, I’m playing different sounds. Not just different in the sense that they were amplified, but different in the sense that a whole new range of chords, notes, and tones were emerging, quite naturally, from the little, tweed amp. It was a bit surprising. More surprising still was the fact that a few minutes later I had written a brand new song, start to finish, something that didn’t even sound like ‘me’.

This isn’t a new phenomena. Guitar players all ‘know’ that different guitars tend to ‘pull’ different things out of the person playing them. This is the basic logic that most guitar guys use for ‘needing’ to buy yet another instrument. My wife is quite familiar with the argument. This is not, however, a blog about going out and buying another guitar, unless my wife is reading, and then this is absolutely about going out and buying a Gibson 335! Baby! You hear me!

This is simply about trying something new, breaking out of our usual routines, even the patterns that have been really fruitful in the past. Sometimes the best thing to do is to lay down our acoustic guitars and plug in the electric. Sometimes we need to put all the guitars down a learn a new instrument, like banjo – there’s nothing that contorts the mind and heart like forward rolls on the banjo. Maybe you need to just lay music aside for a bit and paint. Or perhaps grab pen and paper and write – just a stream of consciousness-Jack-Kerouac-beatnik-poetry-slam-never-let-anyone-read-it sort of thing.

There’s something to be said for focus and determination in a singular direction. That’s how one gains real skill in a particular area. But there is also something to be said for exploration and heading in a new direction. So maybe it’s time to lay the guitar down and head out like Lewis and Clark, following the sunset, to God knows what.

Peace!

Adam

laughing with tears in our eyes

Luke 23:26

“And as they led him away, they seized on Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, and laid on him the cross, to carry it behind Jesus”

Everyone who follows Jesus gets a cross. We wish it were not so. We close our eyes, we place our hands over our ears, hoping not to see or hear anything which would pull us from our spot in the crowd. We were hoping to go on as mere spectators.

But no one who follows Jesus gets to remain a spectator.

Sometimes we object. Sometimes we gather all our best theology into the forefront of our minds. We tell ourselves the truth.

‘I’m a child of god’
‘I’m free’
‘I’m blessed’
‘I’m God’s favorite’

All true, yet the cross awaits.

If the Son of God, very freedom in human skin, blessed like no other, the apple of the fathers eye had a cross, will not the sons and daughters who follow have one as well?

Sometimes being God’s favorite has ramifications that we never imagined. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between God’s favorite and a common criminal. Sometimes the blessed life, the good life, the better path is also the hard life, the sad life, and the sort of life that cuts you right down to marrow. Sometimes being blessed by God means crying tears and giving your best to people who don’t even get it, and certainly don’t deserve it.

There’s a kind of death that comes from following Jesus.

But then, afterwards, there’s life, life that no one imagined. Even though we heard about it, and read about it, we find ourselves surprised. Right in the spot of greatest pain, and greatest difficulty there is a fountain of life. Right when we were about to lose hope, hope was renewed. Right when we were soaked with tears an unexpected laughter bubbled to the surface. And so here we are, one foot in the grave, one foot in heaven, laughing with tears in our eyes.

Peace!

Adam

anything but a job…

I know that none of us wants a job, because having a job is so normal, and rigid, and bourgeois. It’s unbecoming a person who is destined to greatness. I can’t possibly be here, or there, every single day, doing the same exact things, with the same exact people, people who have never done anything important, people who are perfectly content to never do anything important! I was meant for more! I’m management material!

Maybe you’ve heard people say these things.

Perhaps you’ve said these things.

Or at least thought them.

A couple thoughts:

1) ‘Work’ and ‘art’ are not mortal enemies. They are the left and right hands of process and progress. Every meaningful endeavor in life contains a certain amount of grinding. There is an intestinal fortitude that comes from showing up, every day, holding course, and not giving up. It is the very same resolve one will need to accomplish ‘greater things’.

2) Being broke makes for great stories, but not much else. It’s pretty unreal how a steady paycheck and a few hundred bucks can change what’s possible in the immediate here and now. I’ve also noticed that people are willing to be more generous with an artist or pastor who is already working. How many times has an artist or missionary asked me for money, and in my head I’m thinking, “You could just get a job, right?”

3) There is a part of work, even really hard, physical labor that ennobles and dignifies human life. To wake in the morning and build something, or complete a project has an illuminating effect on the human spirit. I know that lots of people are miserable in their jobs, but people without a job are even more miserable. One of the best ways to fight depression and malaise is to go to work.

4) Abraham, Moses and David were all shepherds, Noah built a boat, Boaz was a farmer, Peter was a fisherman, Paul was a tentmaker, and Jesus was a carpenter – they all had a common life before they had an extraordinary life. In fact, one is a foundation for the other.

Peace!

Adam

the gospel of small

So much of what God does is quiet. It seems he loves to hide in plain sight, and often he’s perfectly content to start small. All of this causes us to scratch our heads in disbelief. After all, isn’t he the God of all creation? Didn’t he speak the worlds by his words and part the Red Sea for Moses?

Of course he did, and a good deal more.

It’s just that for all the big, instant, and show stopping moments that God has provided in his rather extravagant career, there have been as many, possibly even more, that went completely unseen. And to the degree that we see or think about God as ‘big’ we are potentially conditioning ourselves to the miss the God who is small, slow, hidden, and progressive.

In fact, most of God’s biggest moves are precisely the ones that started the smallest. Creation started with a word, perhaps igniting the big-bang, but no one knows exactly how long it took for molecules and elements to combine and rearrange into the world we now enjoy – most likely it was more than 6,000 years. After all, it’s taken me the better part of 15 years to get over teenage angst, and that’s with the help of the Spirit, the very same Spirit that was present and at work in creation! Furthermore, when God decided to rescue his beloved creation from sin and death, he sent his son – an 8 lb. 8 oz. baby! And this baby grew up, unnoticed by anyone for years. Of course Jesus made a few heads turn when he was 12, and then, nothing. Just living at home and working with his adopted dad for the next 18 years!

God is certainly in no hurry. He is not bothered by process. It seems to me that he has worked a certain amount of process into life. And unless your quiet, quiet enough to listen, you might become distracted by the loudness of life and miss the whisper of God.

Sometimes we become disheartened because life feels so normal. Sometimes we wonder why our life doesn’t seem to compare to the biblical text. Sometimes we wonder if anything great could come from our lives at all. But if Nazareth could be a home to the savior of the world, and mustard seeds really do become the largest plants in the garden, then there must be a real possibility that God is at work, right beneath the surface, where no one is looking, in ways that no one is expecting.

Don’t lose heart.

Peace!

Adam