restored to grace

I got up this morning with an unusual sense of excitement for the day. There’s nothing special about today (other than the fact that it’s a holiday), but something inside told me that I had something to look forward to.

I got out of bed, did a handful of pushups, brushed my teeth, and grabbed a bowl of cereal before heading into the heat to mow the lawn. The day was loud; kids were running up and down the street or playing in their backyards as parents did yardwork in preparation for the arrival of their barbecue guests.

As I started my lawnmower’s engine I felt my name being whispered in the breeze. Nate, I sensed. There’s something I want you to see.

The vibrating hum of the lawnmower lulled me into a rhythmic daze, but each time I turned I looked up at the nearly cloudless sky, unable to shake the feeling that something was happening to me.

As I rounded another corner it hit me. I came face to face with the Creator of the universe right there in my front yard. It was the last place I expected to have an encounter with God, but there he was, waiting for me to listen.

He reminded me of the cross, of what he did to tell me how much he loved me. He reminded me of all that I have, of what he does everyday to show me how much he continues to love me.

And he reminded me of his overwhelming majesty and power. The sun peaked through the trees, calling my attention to the limitless power of the God I was witnessing. The power to both sit on the throne of the universe and at the same time preside over the tiniest detail of the most insignificant life.

“Through Christ all things hold together. . .”

With all that I’ve been battling internally, I was begging God to comfort me. But he didn’t. Instead he chose to show me who he was, is, and will forever be—the God of all days.

Nate, he said. Each day I’m writing a story. You’re a part of this story. As insignificant as your life is, it’s still crucial to what I’m doing. And while it may be crucial, it’s still only a part. This story isn’t about you. It’s about my Love. It’s about the Christ.

Drenched in sweat and covered in grass clippings I discovered—or perhaps rediscovered—something about God. That he is in everything—every sound, every sight, every smile, every hug, every kiss, every moment—and that this God will never stop relentlessly loving me.

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I heard a voice today.

I asked God the most difficult question I’ve ever asked him.

“Who am I?”

I can’t even relate to you how much strength it took me to get those words out. And when I did, the answer wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

“You’re my child, and I love you so much.”

“Yeah, I know that. Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“You’re my child, and I love you so much.”

I grew a little frustrated, so I asked again, “No, God, who am I?”

And again, “You’re my child, and I love you so much.”

And then it hit me. I really don’t know what it means to be loved.

By God.

By my friends.

Or by myself.

After a shower this morning I looked at myself in the mirror and again I heard God speaking. “Do you like what you see? Because I do.”

“No.”

“Really? Because I made you. Nate, you may think that’s some kind of warped humility, but in reality, that’s as selfish and proud as the people who love themselves a bit too much. Because you’re saying that you have the right to have an opinion about yourself. You don’t. Only I do. And I like what I see because I made what I see, and I spent time shaping your life and drafting every moment of your so-called insignificant existence.”

And I paused, angrier with God than I can ever remember being.

And as if to rub it in even more, very faintly (and I don’t know if this was just my mind’s residual thoughts or if he was still speaking) I heard, “And if that’s not enough, I died for what you see in the mirror.”

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I’ve lived between downtown Morristown and Madison for practically my whole life. With the exception of a few bars and clubs, I’d say I was pretty familiar with the local flavor of these towns.

But despite having walked up and down Main Street in Madison so many times throughout my life, I seemed to always miss the best things about it.

For instance, on the corner where Main Street becomes Park Avenue, there’s a little coffee shop called Drip. It’s a quiet little placed tucked away and not nearly as prominently displayed as something like Greenberry’s on the Green in Morristown. But there’s something wonderful about this place. The smiles, the laughs, the soft rock playing in the background.

How have I missed this place over and over again?

And then there’s Poor Herbie’s. At the end of my search for the perfect tavern lay this great little place. It’s close enough to be convenient yet not so close that it feels redundant. The food is great, the beer selection is excellent, but neither of these is what draws me in.

I feel at home there. Comfortable. Happy.

How is it that you can feel so at home in a place that’s so new to you?

In many ways it’s a lot like connecting with God. We go through life, seeing the same things over and over again, reading the same passages in Scripture over and over again, and we miss the best truths God has for us.

And when we discover them, it’s like finding something completely new and unexpected.

But at the same time, it’s like coming home.

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It’s been several years since I last listened to a good post-grunge album. And that’s exactly what The Burning by JPT (formerly Justpassingthru) is. A good post-grunge album. Post-grunge has never been a musically strong genre, but it’s great for just plain old rocking out.

The record kicks off with a live rendition of their song “Deeper Than,” a driving anthem in the tradition of bands like 12 Stones and Breaking Benjamin. The album doesn’t depart from its roots. Every song follows the post-grunge formula, resting in minor keys—not quite to a fault, but not exactly a strength either. The few times JPT breaks away from this formula are a welcoming departure. These exceptions are very well done; they’re introspective and make strong use of a wide range of pop chord progressions.

The album’s weaknesses are, oddly enough, also its strongest moments. A handful of covers individually are some of the best moments musically on the album, but a couple of them seem misplaced. Generally, The Burning drives home the theme of painful love, but a few of the songs don’t match this theme.

The album gives me the impression that JPT is still searching for an identity. It’s certainly not a bad release, but it feels a little bit disjointed. The main culprit is “Lord, I Lift Your Name on High,” a cover of Rick Founds’ immensely popular worship song, which divided the album in a rather uncomfortable way. However, I must say that it’s my favorite version of the song (no offense to Petra fans, but their version was too heavily tied to the decade in which it was recorded). It just doesn’t fit in this album musically or thematically.

The album’s glaring flaw would probably be the inclusion of two versions of “Deeper Than.” It’s actually a great song, but I’m not sure it was a good idea to double it up on one record.

The most unexpected, and quite honestly, most enjoyable song on the album was “Praise Adonai,” a cover of a Paul Baloche worship staple. It’s unique enough to make me pause and immerse myself in the music, and exciting enough to get me off my feet in celebration of my God. Unfortunately, like “Lord, I Lift Your Name on High,” thematically it feels out of place on the album.

Technically, the album has a great mix. While extremely predictable, there’s nothing on the record that I wouldn’t put on a personal playlist. Not a bad release from JPT, but not a solid one. Each song sounds great, but as a whole, the album feels like a chain that has a few disconnected links—not weak links, just disconnected. It may have been better as an EP than as a full record. Several songs work really well, but there are a few that just don’t quite blend with what’s going on in the album.

If you’re a fan of post-grunge rock, this is definitely a record worth adding to your collection. It’s got some excellent moments, and while dark, it’s not angst-ridden like most post-grunge. The Burning isn’t a great album, but it’s definitely a good one. I’m looking forward to discovering what JPT comes up with next because, if this release is any indication, the band definitely has it in them to create some great music.

Overview

1. “Deeper Than (Live)” – Great opening to the album.
2. “Amazing Crazy Beautiful” – Strong continuation. Flows well from the opening.
3. “Tainted Love” – Excellent cover. Fits well with the album’s theme.
4. “IMSU” – Weak. Fits the album theme, but too formulaic, and the repeated words in the chorus are a little bit annoying.
5. “Lord, I Lift Your Name on High” – Fantastic cover. Doesn’t match the rest of the album though.
6. “Let’s Take Heaven” – Good segue from track 5. Not the strongest song, but still a good listen.
7. “One” – Musically out of place, but probably the best song on the album.
8. “Waiting for Love” – Great album closer. Well written and catchy.
9. “Deeper Than” – I like this better than the live rendition the album opened with. But I really think the inclusion of this song did more to hurt the album than help it.
10. “Praise Adonai” – Thematically out of place on the album. Still, it’s one of my favorite songs on the record, and it’s worth listening to over and over again.

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With my voice I cry out to the Lord;
With my voice I plead for mercy to the Lord.
I pour out my complaint before him;
I tell my trouble before him.
When my spirit faints within me,
you know my way!
In the path where I walk
they have hidden a trap for me.
Look to the right and see:
There is none who takes notice of me;
no refuge remains to me;
no one cares for my soul.
I cry to you, O Lord;
I say, “You are my refuge,
my portion in the land of the living.”

The last few days haven’t been easy. And it becomes so difficult to trust God when it feels like he’s taking things away from me. To be totally honest, I’m actually angry at him right now. I almost feel like he’s given me glimpses of the great things he has planned for me, only to rip them away with the words, “You’re not ready for this yet, Nate.”

He gave me something to pour my abilities and efforts into, and then I hear, “I can’t let you do that, Nate. Not when you’ve lost sight of whom this is really about.” And it hurt, but I knew I needed to make some changes in my own life.

And just as I’m on the brink of taking that first step towards change, a gift he’d given me very recently was quickly snatched away, and I hear, “You’re not ready for this gift, Nate. This was my gift to you, but you’re not a gift yourself.” And again, it hurt.

Like any child who’s being corrected by his father, I’m angry because the correcting hurts. But, like that child, I know that I have nowhere else to turn, and that the hand that’s correcting me is the same hand that comforts me.

So I’ll run into the refuge of my Father’s arms, knowing that, even though I can’t have what I want right now, he’s providing me what I need.

My old mentor told me recently to stop “seeking change for yourself and start seeking the God who changes.” Because change may be everything I want in my life right now, but this God is everything I need.

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I’ve been reading through the Gospels again recently, and I can’t shake the feeling that I was missing something in Christ’s words. Something crucial about this “kingdom of heaven” he referred to over and over again. I’ll post more on this at a later time, but I just wanted to get you thinking about this as well. Try reading through some of Jesus’ words and rethinking what you’ve previously been taught about the kingdom he talks about.

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Coming soon. . . a church middle-school curriculum series written by yours truly.

Have you checked out your Sixty Six lately?

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There’s always a story.

Life is made up of stories. And every story we have is a part of a bigger story within our own lives, and the lives of those around us, and the lives of everyone we’ve ever come in contact, and ultimately everyone on earth.

It’s all a story.

And often, we can’t figure out what part of the story we’re in. John Eldredge put it this way: “For most of us, life feels like a movie we’ve arrived at forty-five minutes late” (Epic).

I’ve felt this confusion time and time again. But what helps me is knowing that my story fits in somewhere as part of a larger story, and that the story has already been written. Well, the important parts, that is.

But I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve been looking at this story the wrong way for generations. And I think that’s where the confusion comes in.

We’ve been searching for meaning in our lives, but we haven’t discovered that meaning comes when we find out that our lives aren’t a puzzle. Rather, they’re puzzle pieces. And they all fit together to create a picture that, at its heart, centers around Jesus.

But I really think people—no, Christians—have gotten it wrong.

To find meaning for life, we have to center life around Christ. But to truly center our lives around him, we first have to discover who he is.

Look at his life. What made him happy? What made him angry? Whom did he cherish? Whom did he criticize?

Can you relate what went on during his life to what’s going on in your life?

What makes you happy? What makes you angry? Whom do you cherish? Whom do you criticize?

No, this isn’t a rehash of WWJD?. It’s much deeper than that. It’s a challenge to rediscover.

Rediscover what life looks like through Jesus’ eyes. Rediscover what people look like through Jesus’ eyes. Rediscover what you look like through Jesus’ eyes.

Can you find meaning in that? He found meaning in you. Enough meaning to die.

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Here are my top ten blog posts! I didn’t choose these entries; they were chosen because they received the most traffic since I started the site (the stats might be a little skewed because the blog moved from restoredtograce.wordpress.com about a year and a half ago.) Also, I didn’t include the entry “Free book giveaway. . .” because we all know why that post received a lot of traffic. Technically though, it was number 5.

Anyway, here’s the list (not including the aforementioned post). . .

1. To my future bride (whoever you may be). . .

2. A day at Liquid Church. . .

3. God, the Lover. . .

4. What does true love look like?. . .

5. Through new eyes. . .

6. Communications and children’s ministries. . .

7. Fear in love. . .

8. Break my heart. . .

9. The fury of God’s grief. . .

10. Shorts and flip flops at church. . .

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It hurts sometimes.

Actually, no. It hurts all the time.

Do you ever feel alone? Like there isn’t a single person who’ll listen to you? Like all your friends are there simply as a courtesy, but when your heart is crying out to them for a hug or an ear to listen to your fears or pain, they suddenly disappear or tune out?

I do.

Everyday.

Some nights I set it aside and numb the pain by escaping into a book or watching a movie or playing video games.

Not tonight though.

Tonight I’m screaming. Tonight I’m calling. Tonight I’m crying for that friend who’ll wrap their arms around me and let me pour everything I’m hiding onto their shoulders.

And tonight, like every other night I feel alone and abandoned. . .

He answers.

He listens intently when I unload the hurt that’s eating at my soul. He sits beside me when I feel like no one else will.

He rests his hand on my shoulder and says, “I won’t leave you.”

“Is that a promise?” I ask him (night after night).

“I told you, I’m always with you.”

He says the same thing every time. No matter what I say or do.

He’s always there.

I rarely follow his advice (even though I try so hard to). I often forget to do what he asks me to. I don’t communicate well with him, and when I do, I’m almost always asking him to do something and never listening to what he has to say.

Some friend I am.

But he’s always there. He’s always listening. He’s always holding me.

He destroyed death for me. . .

By dying himself.

And here I am crying out for a friend when this one is already here beside me.

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