Wednesday, September 8, 2010
thank you audrey
...for having one of the most encouraging, insightful, relevant, and faith-centered blogs out there. Read her blog at: http://moomooaudrey.wordpress.com/. Also, I'm so happy that her first EP, Midnight Bloom, was just released! Listening to it right now... hooked already. Listen here. And purchase here. I'll probably write a blog post or two about her songs at some point... for now, I'm just thankful for this dose of much-needed encouragement this morning.
pounding heart, pounding nails
One of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes goes like this:
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable."
I first read this during a Family Group study sometime during my junior year. I don't remember what the study was about (sorry Josh...), but this quote stuck out to me.
I just don't understand why it's so hard to love and not get hurt. Why can't everyone just love one another and be happy, all the time? This sounds so... happy-go-lucky, it's sickening. Of course I know why. We all sin, we want what's best for ourselves, and in the end, whatever love we find with another person is only temporary. If a host of other factors doesn't kill the relationship, death will.
In college, I screwed up a lot of friendships with my "open book" personality and habit of delving into everyone's personal lives to make sure they were "okay." Even now, any defensive, flat, or hostile comments from friends are bound to set me off into a tailspin of "oh my God, what did I do wrong? Why can't I love people?" On the one hand, this is arrogant - and on the other, it's completely impractical - you simply can't live that way.
Many times, I have tried the opposite tactic - of nailing my heart in that coffin - of ignoring and breaking friendships in my head in drastic scenarios. My thinking: if I can't love everybody equally well, and all the time, then I'm not going to love anyone - I can't deal with the hurt. The problem? Every single time I pound a nail into my coffin of security, I come up short. Relationships, more often than not, revive, and it's only myself that I'm torturing.
Every single time I pound a nail into my coffin, I feel like I'm pounding one into Jesus, stretched out on that cross. And this is why I cannot stop loving. This is why love is "the greatest of these." (1 Cor. 13:13). This is why, even though it hurts like hell sometimes, I will keep loving - because Jesus did it first. May all of us continue to follow His example.
Edit: The C.S. Lewis quote comes from his book The Four Loves.
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable."
I first read this during a Family Group study sometime during my junior year. I don't remember what the study was about (sorry Josh...), but this quote stuck out to me.
I just don't understand why it's so hard to love and not get hurt. Why can't everyone just love one another and be happy, all the time? This sounds so... happy-go-lucky, it's sickening. Of course I know why. We all sin, we want what's best for ourselves, and in the end, whatever love we find with another person is only temporary. If a host of other factors doesn't kill the relationship, death will.
In college, I screwed up a lot of friendships with my "open book" personality and habit of delving into everyone's personal lives to make sure they were "okay." Even now, any defensive, flat, or hostile comments from friends are bound to set me off into a tailspin of "oh my God, what did I do wrong? Why can't I love people?" On the one hand, this is arrogant - and on the other, it's completely impractical - you simply can't live that way.
Many times, I have tried the opposite tactic - of nailing my heart in that coffin - of ignoring and breaking friendships in my head in drastic scenarios. My thinking: if I can't love everybody equally well, and all the time, then I'm not going to love anyone - I can't deal with the hurt. The problem? Every single time I pound a nail into my coffin of security, I come up short. Relationships, more often than not, revive, and it's only myself that I'm torturing.
Every single time I pound a nail into my coffin, I feel like I'm pounding one into Jesus, stretched out on that cross. And this is why I cannot stop loving. This is why love is "the greatest of these." (1 Cor. 13:13). This is why, even though it hurts like hell sometimes, I will keep loving - because Jesus did it first. May all of us continue to follow His example.
Edit: The C.S. Lewis quote comes from his book The Four Loves.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
total depravity, irresistible grace
It is currently 4 am, and I am somehow still up, trying to fill an empty page with a string of words that actually means something. Spent an hour looking for jobs instead of writing my paper, which, interestingly enough, is on Crime and Punishment. Actually, I think the whole theme of the story can be summed up by the four words in my entry title. Then again, they also summarize my whole life up to this point. There's a reason why these two phrases go together (besides accounting for the T and I in TULIP, something that I'm not equipped to write about at this point, but maybe someday...) I don't think you can live in total depravity without realizing irresistible grace - to do so is to diminish God's boundless love for us.
Let me explain. For the past two years (and intermittently before that), I've been living in what amounted to an emotional black hole - all my life experiences, good and bad, and all the feelings associated with them, disappeared into the mass of unfulfilled expectations and failed attempts to be "happy." As time passed, my daily attitude became "wow, I suck at life, and there's no hope for me." Obviously, this didn't exactly help my mood or productivity, and I felt, in a sense, "totally depraved."
Now, as a senior facing an uncertain job market, (still) unfulfilled expectations, and a questionable future, I still have those moments, quite often, actually. Recently, though, I've come to the realization that my attitude of "there is no hope" is actually quite accurate - but missing a crucial piece - that of reconciliation. To quote Paul, "For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!" (Romans 5:10).
The implications of this verse are enormous - it is not enough to realize that we are saved from our sins through Christ's death on the cross. True, that is an integral part of Christianity, and probably the concept most of us would use when justifying our own failures. We must realize that in addition to being freed from sin (a sort of negative construction), we are also free to live without it (a decidedly more positive one). This isn't to say that we will never sin again (because of course we will) - but that our actions need not be hindered by the fact that we are awash in sin and can never do anything right - because we are reconciled and justified in Christ. In essence, Christ's death means that our guilt is taken away, and we can live with Him forever, but His resurrection means that our shame is taken away too - and that we can actually begin to live through, and for, Him.
I'm going to end this with something a dear friend once told me: "Of course, God's always there to be like... 'Hey guess what, I'm in charge. You will never be successful enough that you won't need Me, or such a failure that I leave you.'" When we finally realize how totally depraved we are, that's when God's irresistible grace comes in - and shows us why we truly live.
EDIT: I wrote this sometime last fall, before I took a year off from school.
Let me explain. For the past two years (and intermittently before that), I've been living in what amounted to an emotional black hole - all my life experiences, good and bad, and all the feelings associated with them, disappeared into the mass of unfulfilled expectations and failed attempts to be "happy." As time passed, my daily attitude became "wow, I suck at life, and there's no hope for me." Obviously, this didn't exactly help my mood or productivity, and I felt, in a sense, "totally depraved."
Now, as a senior facing an uncertain job market, (still) unfulfilled expectations, and a questionable future, I still have those moments, quite often, actually. Recently, though, I've come to the realization that my attitude of "there is no hope" is actually quite accurate - but missing a crucial piece - that of reconciliation. To quote Paul, "For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!" (Romans 5:10).
The implications of this verse are enormous - it is not enough to realize that we are saved from our sins through Christ's death on the cross. True, that is an integral part of Christianity, and probably the concept most of us would use when justifying our own failures. We must realize that in addition to being freed from sin (a sort of negative construction), we are also free to live without it (a decidedly more positive one). This isn't to say that we will never sin again (because of course we will) - but that our actions need not be hindered by the fact that we are awash in sin and can never do anything right - because we are reconciled and justified in Christ. In essence, Christ's death means that our guilt is taken away, and we can live with Him forever, but His resurrection means that our shame is taken away too - and that we can actually begin to live through, and for, Him.
I'm going to end this with something a dear friend once told me: "Of course, God's always there to be like... 'Hey guess what, I'm in charge. You will never be successful enough that you won't need Me, or such a failure that I leave you.'" When we finally realize how totally depraved we are, that's when God's irresistible grace comes in - and shows us why we truly live.
EDIT: I wrote this sometime last fall, before I took a year off from school.
reflections on unified 2009
So last night was our third annual Unified Praise Night. I was pretty excited about it, as I was expecting a lot of energy and passion. The set started out strong, with two songs by Chris Tomlin and one by Starfield. I remember thinking that it was taking me a while to get into the music, but I didn't think anything of it as this occasionally happens. Divine Rhythm, WOV (With One Voice), and Catholic Choir were all great, as was the speech for Hope for the Homeless. At that point, I was feeling pretty content, and I waited for the sermon to start. After the first few minutes, however, I sort of got lost, because I couldn't figure out why the speaker seemed to jump in between Bible verses. I eventually fell asleep, probably a result of my having gone to bed at 6 am the previous night, and being in the library all afternoon. When I woke up, the sermon was nearly over, and I naturally felt really bad. I thought "hmm, maybe the music will help me get back in the right mindset for worship." Unfortunately, I only knew about half the songs in the latter set (Hillsong and Starfield), and I became frustrated by the fact that I still couldn't get into the "right" attitude. When we got to the song "The Stand" by Hillsong, I finally felt some emotion, particularly with these lines:
"So I'll stand,
With arms high and heart abandoned,
in awe of the One who gave it all.
So I'll stand,
My soul, Lord, to you surrendered,
all I am is Yours."
When the final prayer ended and I walked out, though, I felt strangely unfulfilled, but I didn't know what was missing. It had nothing to do with the worship team or the speaker, and I did enjoy the experience. It just felt different from years past. Ironically, the last two years I went, I couldn't see the song lyrics, which usually does take away some of the passion because i can't sing along, and I still loved it. Yesterday, however, I could see everything, but I just couldn't sing.
One of the Chris Tomlin songs we sang yesterday had this line: "How can I keep from singing Your praise?" I thought about that question through the night, but I couldn't answer it. There was one point where I wanted them to play quieter, slower, more reflective songs, but of course, this should have had no effect on me praising God. Right? I just felt... almost empty, like this was just another event to go to, to let pass by. Of course, the fact that I didn't know half of the worship set probably didn't help, and I probably should have slept more the previous night. Was this just an off night for me, then? Or am I making excuses for a deeper problem? Why couldn't I appreciate or understand the sermon? Was it arrogance or just an unwillingness to listen? I was really looking for renewal, but maybe I was searching for the wrong thing, or in the wrong way. Now, just a few hours before I leave for church, I still don't know exactly what I'm looking for, or why I felt so lukewarm last night. I hope things will turn around today... we'll see if I find any answers.
EDIT: This was sometime during the spring of my junior year, imported from a previous blog.
"So I'll stand,
With arms high and heart abandoned,
in awe of the One who gave it all.
So I'll stand,
My soul, Lord, to you surrendered,
all I am is Yours."
When the final prayer ended and I walked out, though, I felt strangely unfulfilled, but I didn't know what was missing. It had nothing to do with the worship team or the speaker, and I did enjoy the experience. It just felt different from years past. Ironically, the last two years I went, I couldn't see the song lyrics, which usually does take away some of the passion because i can't sing along, and I still loved it. Yesterday, however, I could see everything, but I just couldn't sing.
One of the Chris Tomlin songs we sang yesterday had this line: "How can I keep from singing Your praise?" I thought about that question through the night, but I couldn't answer it. There was one point where I wanted them to play quieter, slower, more reflective songs, but of course, this should have had no effect on me praising God. Right? I just felt... almost empty, like this was just another event to go to, to let pass by. Of course, the fact that I didn't know half of the worship set probably didn't help, and I probably should have slept more the previous night. Was this just an off night for me, then? Or am I making excuses for a deeper problem? Why couldn't I appreciate or understand the sermon? Was it arrogance or just an unwillingness to listen? I was really looking for renewal, but maybe I was searching for the wrong thing, or in the wrong way. Now, just a few hours before I leave for church, I still don't know exactly what I'm looking for, or why I felt so lukewarm last night. I hope things will turn around today... we'll see if I find any answers.
EDIT: This was sometime during the spring of my junior year, imported from a previous blog.
Friday, April 30, 2010
foundations
So, it's been a few weeks since I last posted something here. A lot has changed in those few weeks, not the least of which was a three-week period in which I got hit with two colds and a stomach virus. Aside from physical ailments, though, what I've really been struggling with is the reason I'm alive. This isn't in the "oh, I'm so sad and I'm useless - what am I doing with my life?" type of struggle. This is more "why was I created by God?" Previously, I would have considered this from a philosophical standpoint - what am I supposed to do with my life to fulfill God's plan for me now that he's given me so much?
Now?
I'm angry. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, and honestly, at this point, I don't really want to know. This doesn't mean I don't care - in fact, I care way too much - about being such a renowned man of God that people will point at me and say "wow, he certainly is following the Lord with all his heart." Selfish and narrow-minded, I know.
But, you know? I don't actually care. Over these past few months that I've been out of school (more on that, perhaps, in the future), I've found it increasingly hard to find something that I actually give a damn about. So, what to do? I promised myself when I left school last December, that I would do whatever it took to get better again - emotionally and mentally. Since then, this has involved mental health professionals, drugs, and *shudder* talking with my parents.
Has all of this paid off? I'm not sure yet. My point is that tonight is where I begin the same process with my spiritual life - breaking down all the foundations, all I've ever known about Christianity and my faith - and starting over.
The first step?
God doesn't exist.
I know, I know - this is supposed to be a blog about my spiritual struggles, joys, journey, and what not, not about my path towards rejecting my faith. But, I have no faith left. I've realized over these past few weeks that I believe in God's existence - because that's the way I was brought up. I don't actually believe that he can - and will - work miracles, in my life - or even do anything to change me, little by little. I have nothing left. Total, complete burnout. I don't want God to exist - because that means that I've failed him, and that there's a plan for my life that I'm not following - and I don't want that anymore. I want answers. Why am I here? If God can't answer that, I don't want to know him.
Shocking, yes. I talked with my pastor tonight after youth fellowship, and he basically said "throw it all away." Start from scratch. If I'm going to build a faith that I can rely on, and if I'm going to believe that God is real in my life, that I can - in my dreams still, be a useful servant for him - then I need to completely and utterly tear down everything I've ever known about my faith.
If it means that I have to start from ground zero - that God doesn't exist - and challenge myself until something begins to grow - then so be it.
Practically, how is this going to work? I have no idea. I'm not going to stop going to church. I'll still sing songs and maybe even feel worshipful. I'll listen carefully to the sermons. On another level, nearly everything on my ipod is Christian music. My parents and I watch a Christian testimonial program every night during dinner. I have a lot of Christian (and non-Christian) friends whom I talk to about spiritual matters. How is this going to fit with my now-supposed rejection of God? No clue.
To be honest, though, I'm excited. I want to be angry at God, to question him, to rail against what I think is unjust, whether in my personal life or otherwise. I want to be challenged - intellectually, then personally, and maybe finally, spiritually. It's going to take a while. In fact, it might just take my whole life. But starting tonight, I'm putting down a new foundation - and we'll see what buildings rise up from the rubble.
Now?
I'm angry. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, and honestly, at this point, I don't really want to know. This doesn't mean I don't care - in fact, I care way too much - about being such a renowned man of God that people will point at me and say "wow, he certainly is following the Lord with all his heart." Selfish and narrow-minded, I know.
But, you know? I don't actually care. Over these past few months that I've been out of school (more on that, perhaps, in the future), I've found it increasingly hard to find something that I actually give a damn about. So, what to do? I promised myself when I left school last December, that I would do whatever it took to get better again - emotionally and mentally. Since then, this has involved mental health professionals, drugs, and *shudder* talking with my parents.
Has all of this paid off? I'm not sure yet. My point is that tonight is where I begin the same process with my spiritual life - breaking down all the foundations, all I've ever known about Christianity and my faith - and starting over.
The first step?
God doesn't exist.
I know, I know - this is supposed to be a blog about my spiritual struggles, joys, journey, and what not, not about my path towards rejecting my faith. But, I have no faith left. I've realized over these past few weeks that I believe in God's existence - because that's the way I was brought up. I don't actually believe that he can - and will - work miracles, in my life - or even do anything to change me, little by little. I have nothing left. Total, complete burnout. I don't want God to exist - because that means that I've failed him, and that there's a plan for my life that I'm not following - and I don't want that anymore. I want answers. Why am I here? If God can't answer that, I don't want to know him.
Shocking, yes. I talked with my pastor tonight after youth fellowship, and he basically said "throw it all away." Start from scratch. If I'm going to build a faith that I can rely on, and if I'm going to believe that God is real in my life, that I can - in my dreams still, be a useful servant for him - then I need to completely and utterly tear down everything I've ever known about my faith.
If it means that I have to start from ground zero - that God doesn't exist - and challenge myself until something begins to grow - then so be it.
Practically, how is this going to work? I have no idea. I'm not going to stop going to church. I'll still sing songs and maybe even feel worshipful. I'll listen carefully to the sermons. On another level, nearly everything on my ipod is Christian music. My parents and I watch a Christian testimonial program every night during dinner. I have a lot of Christian (and non-Christian) friends whom I talk to about spiritual matters. How is this going to fit with my now-supposed rejection of God? No clue.
To be honest, though, I'm excited. I want to be angry at God, to question him, to rail against what I think is unjust, whether in my personal life or otherwise. I want to be challenged - intellectually, then personally, and maybe finally, spiritually. It's going to take a while. In fact, it might just take my whole life. But starting tonight, I'm putting down a new foundation - and we'll see what buildings rise up from the rubble.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
lemons into lemonade, water into wine
"What makes you think that God doesn't love you?" As we sat in his car in front of my house, my friend's words didn't pierce my heart - instead, they landed with a dull thud. In a perfect world, his question would have sparked a great insight - "oh, so that's why my life hasn't turned out the way I wanted it to!" (Then again, in a perfect world, my life would have turned out the way I wanted anyways, removing the need to ask the question in the first place).
Of course, we do not live in a perfect world. To anyone - Christian or not - it is pretty clear that we live in a fallen world. War, famine, disease, scandals and injustices of every sort imaginable. Do these things bother me? Of course they do - but my recent questioning of what I believe is not based in the typical "if God is all-powerful, he can stop evil - and since he doesn't, he must not exist" argument. No, my thoughts are much more specific - and selfish: if God loves me, he would fix my life so I can serve him better. See what I just did? I used my desire to serve God as a self-serving excuse so that he would give me the gifts, talents, experiences, and lifestyle that I wanted - instead of those that would actually further his plan for my life.
But, back to the conversation. I responded that I felt like God had opened so many doors for me - and I had slammed them shut in his face. One. By. One. Because of this, I am now living at home while taking a year off from school, to figure out the next phase of my life (more on that in the future). I wasted so many golden opportunities - and now I expected God to love me? Not a chance.
My friend gently reminded me to look for the small blessings in life - sort of like making lemonade out of lemons. Qualitatively, I think this is different than finding something to be happy for each day. How so, I'm not exactly sure, but here's a great read on lemons and lemonade from a Christian perspective. As you may have guessed, I have trouble finding (or telling myself to look for) these blessings. Why? Simple: I want BIG BLESSINGS. Like, REALLY BIG BLESSINGS. Blessings like getting into a top grad school (epidemiology and/or global health, in case any kindhearted admissions committee members read this). Like earning a lot of money. Like being respected by all my peers. Like traveling the world stamping out malaria and all the other diseases that we are protected against, but many more people are not. Like finding my other (bound to be better) half and raising God-loving, intelligent, athletic, compassionate kids. Like being able to go back to school without breaking down under the pressure of societal expectations - or my own.
It was getting late, and I was feeling tired. (Also, it was a dark and stormy night. Just kidding - it was just dark). In any case, I knew he was right. I also knew that both of us really needed prayer. So, trying to cast aside any illusions that I knew what I was doing, I prayed that the Lord would protect us, lead us, strengthen our resolve. I honestly don't remember most of what I prayed - but I do remember this: I asked that he transform our lives as he transformed water into wine. That no one would know where this transformation came from - but there was no doubt about its authenticity, and its power to heal. That when people asked us how this happened, we would have the courage to proclaim our faith. That we would have the faith to believe that Jesus can indeed change our lives - that we can indeed live as the "best wine" he - and he alone - is turning us into. My friend prayed for God to show us patience and how to be humble - to trust in his grace and plan for our lives, that he is sovereign over all creation, including us - among other things. That, above all, we would know that God is good, that he does indeed love us, that he will continue to mold us in his fashion, and that we can take wonderous enjoyment from it in our day-to-day lives.
I walked out of the car feeling encouraged - that God had been watching over our very conversation just now. Yes, there will continue to be struggles, drama, confrontations, missteps, and heartbreak. But in spite of all that, God is in control, and he loves us. This is just one of many steps towards regaining - and building upon - my faith, family, friendships, and future. But as for tonight? I think I've found a blessing.
Of course, we do not live in a perfect world. To anyone - Christian or not - it is pretty clear that we live in a fallen world. War, famine, disease, scandals and injustices of every sort imaginable. Do these things bother me? Of course they do - but my recent questioning of what I believe is not based in the typical "if God is all-powerful, he can stop evil - and since he doesn't, he must not exist" argument. No, my thoughts are much more specific - and selfish: if God loves me, he would fix my life so I can serve him better. See what I just did? I used my desire to serve God as a self-serving excuse so that he would give me the gifts, talents, experiences, and lifestyle that I wanted - instead of those that would actually further his plan for my life.
But, back to the conversation. I responded that I felt like God had opened so many doors for me - and I had slammed them shut in his face. One. By. One. Because of this, I am now living at home while taking a year off from school, to figure out the next phase of my life (more on that in the future). I wasted so many golden opportunities - and now I expected God to love me? Not a chance.
My friend gently reminded me to look for the small blessings in life - sort of like making lemonade out of lemons. Qualitatively, I think this is different than finding something to be happy for each day. How so, I'm not exactly sure, but here's a great read on lemons and lemonade from a Christian perspective. As you may have guessed, I have trouble finding (or telling myself to look for) these blessings. Why? Simple: I want BIG BLESSINGS. Like, REALLY BIG BLESSINGS. Blessings like getting into a top grad school (epidemiology and/or global health, in case any kindhearted admissions committee members read this). Like earning a lot of money. Like being respected by all my peers. Like traveling the world stamping out malaria and all the other diseases that we are protected against, but many more people are not. Like finding my other (bound to be better) half and raising God-loving, intelligent, athletic, compassionate kids. Like being able to go back to school without breaking down under the pressure of societal expectations - or my own.
It was getting late, and I was feeling tired. (Also, it was a dark and stormy night. Just kidding - it was just dark). In any case, I knew he was right. I also knew that both of us really needed prayer. So, trying to cast aside any illusions that I knew what I was doing, I prayed that the Lord would protect us, lead us, strengthen our resolve. I honestly don't remember most of what I prayed - but I do remember this: I asked that he transform our lives as he transformed water into wine. That no one would know where this transformation came from - but there was no doubt about its authenticity, and its power to heal. That when people asked us how this happened, we would have the courage to proclaim our faith. That we would have the faith to believe that Jesus can indeed change our lives - that we can indeed live as the "best wine" he - and he alone - is turning us into. My friend prayed for God to show us patience and how to be humble - to trust in his grace and plan for our lives, that he is sovereign over all creation, including us - among other things. That, above all, we would know that God is good, that he does indeed love us, that he will continue to mold us in his fashion, and that we can take wonderous enjoyment from it in our day-to-day lives.
I walked out of the car feeling encouraged - that God had been watching over our very conversation just now. Yes, there will continue to be struggles, drama, confrontations, missteps, and heartbreak. But in spite of all that, God is in control, and he loves us. This is just one of many steps towards regaining - and building upon - my faith, family, friendships, and future. But as for tonight? I think I've found a blessing.
allusions, anyone?
So, why create a blog? Especially when I have another one that I haven't updated in forever? Well, that one was supposed to inspire me to do - and record - my daily devotions. It didn't work. So, I've decided that I want my other blog to be more about public health issues that interest me, or anything exciting going on in my life that's not related to spiritual or philosophical issues. (Which means I probably won't start blogging on that one again until I perhaps go to grad school, but we'll see). As for this blog, I wanted another place where I could put down thoughts more related to spiritual issues - probably more struggles than triumphs, at this point.
Did anyone catch the musical allusions in my blog? (Hint: there are three). If not: the title comes from the song "Take Me to Your Leader" by Newsboys, the sub-title comes from "Like a Child" by Jars of Clay, and the site name comes from "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot. All wonderful songs. Check them out! And maybe, check out this blog once in a while, if you're not busy, or you're bored, or something. I'll try to update it more often than I did my last one. Well, sink or swim, I'm diving in!
Did anyone catch the musical allusions in my blog? (Hint: there are three). If not: the title comes from the song "Take Me to Your Leader" by Newsboys, the sub-title comes from "Like a Child" by Jars of Clay, and the site name comes from "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot. All wonderful songs. Check them out! And maybe, check out this blog once in a while, if you're not busy, or you're bored, or something. I'll try to update it more often than I did my last one. Well, sink or swim, I'm diving in!
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