Scripture: Psalm 37:7-9
"Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes. Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. For evil men will be cut off, but those who hope in the LORD will inherit the land."
People don't like to wait. You can go to any airport, bus terminal, fast food restaurant, and wherever people are gathered, you can bet that one or more is waiting for something. You can see it in their faces, this look of..."Come ON!!!" I myself am among the worst of them. Patience is perhaps the hardest of the Spiritual fruits to blossom in me. I did some updating on my website today, just some progress on the album, and realized (again, as I do every day), that this is all real. Before I signed this contract, I made quite a facade out of a non existent music career. I had a website, a MySpace, and all the tools of marketing, without a product to market. Now as I listen to my scratch tracks, receive e mails from my producer and my marketing staff, I am in such a hurry. Gods gifts were meant to be enjoyed thoroughly. Me trying to rush everything along is robbing him of his full glory. I just can't seem to sit and watch everything go down, content to let God do the heavy lifting. Maybe if you're in a similar spot, we can commiserate.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Convicted. Again.
Scriptures: Psalm 40, 1 Peter 1-2
The Lord is so gracious. When I was a kid, my Dad had this incredible turntable. It was state of the art for 1982, had a diamond tipped stylus, and any record you played on it sounded beyond amazing. He loved that record player. It was his baby. Well, me being the person I am, loved it too. I would check out records from the library (man am I dating myself here, or what!) or buy them from my favorite record store, bring them home and crank them up, amazed that my father trusted me with such expensive machinery. One day, I brought home a 45 single (for those that don't know, those are the little ones with the big holes) and put it on. My arm slipped, and the needle scraped against the side of the turntable. I looked down, not believing what I had done, and saw a piece of metal on the platform. The needle. Oh God, it's the needle. I broke the needle off. What have I done! Immediately I set to work to cover up what I had done. I pulled the record off, covered the turntable back up, and swore that if I ignored this hard enough, it would go away. The days of the week that followed were agonizing. I sat there dreading Saturday. Saturday was the day my Dad enjoyed his time with his records. So Saturday came. True to form, my father took his coffee into the den, unsheathed the turntable, selected a Sinatra album, and put it on. The music that played stunned me. How is music playing? I broke it! Or DID I? After he finished, I went immediately to it. Uncovered it. Opened it up. Looked for that piece of metal I knew was the evidence of my misdeed. And there it was. A dog hair. I never broke it after all. There's a point to this. We go through so much to hide our sin, to say there's nothing wrong, when we know that there is. God knows our every move. You're not getting anything over on him. His grace allows us to believe that we're pulling the wool over his eyes. No one gets away with anything. I think what I got out of my reading this morning, is that conviction doesn't have to equal fear, or even overwhelming shame, like that 12 year old that thought he broke the record player. God chastens us, but lovingly, and without flaw. Praise God for his word. Yes, Saturday is coming, but how great is the knowledge that Jesus has already been to the woodshed.
The Lord is so gracious. When I was a kid, my Dad had this incredible turntable. It was state of the art for 1982, had a diamond tipped stylus, and any record you played on it sounded beyond amazing. He loved that record player. It was his baby. Well, me being the person I am, loved it too. I would check out records from the library (man am I dating myself here, or what!) or buy them from my favorite record store, bring them home and crank them up, amazed that my father trusted me with such expensive machinery. One day, I brought home a 45 single (for those that don't know, those are the little ones with the big holes) and put it on. My arm slipped, and the needle scraped against the side of the turntable. I looked down, not believing what I had done, and saw a piece of metal on the platform. The needle. Oh God, it's the needle. I broke the needle off. What have I done! Immediately I set to work to cover up what I had done. I pulled the record off, covered the turntable back up, and swore that if I ignored this hard enough, it would go away. The days of the week that followed were agonizing. I sat there dreading Saturday. Saturday was the day my Dad enjoyed his time with his records. So Saturday came. True to form, my father took his coffee into the den, unsheathed the turntable, selected a Sinatra album, and put it on. The music that played stunned me. How is music playing? I broke it! Or DID I? After he finished, I went immediately to it. Uncovered it. Opened it up. Looked for that piece of metal I knew was the evidence of my misdeed. And there it was. A dog hair. I never broke it after all. There's a point to this. We go through so much to hide our sin, to say there's nothing wrong, when we know that there is. God knows our every move. You're not getting anything over on him. His grace allows us to believe that we're pulling the wool over his eyes. No one gets away with anything. I think what I got out of my reading this morning, is that conviction doesn't have to equal fear, or even overwhelming shame, like that 12 year old that thought he broke the record player. God chastens us, but lovingly, and without flaw. Praise God for his word. Yes, Saturday is coming, but how great is the knowledge that Jesus has already been to the woodshed.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Day One
So, I've started a new blog. I suppose this one should be a score more uplifting than my previous one, since God's Grace has been showered on me and my family so profoundly. This is also the blog that I'll direct my fans to, if ever I get any fans. My wish is to be transparent, upfront, and completely open about the things that are happening in my day to day life. So I'll start here. At the beginning. This past April, I received a very interesting phone call. On the other end of the line was Allen Finch, director of Artist Aqusitions for Tate Music Group. An Offer was made, which I accepted, and to flash forward a few months, I have just returned from Oklahoma City with Vocal tracks laid down for what is to become my debut album. There are 8 songs, all of which speak directly to those that are seeking God for who he is, and not who people want him to be. I hope (obviously) that my current contract proves to be fruitful, and that I sell some records. My dream since I was old enough to know what work is, is to make my living playing music. So, we'll see, right? I don't know much about the machinations of fame. I'm not sure I want to know. My personalty being what it is (for those of you that know me personally.....) I can imagine fame being a hard core stumbling block for me. Yet, I know of musicians that handle fame quite well with help from God, and I hope to be counted amoung them. So, for right now, I am not a rock star. I am not a celebrity. I am not even a published artist as of today. The tracks are in the can, and are being mixed. My producer, Houston Green, is very good at what he does, and we'll see just what he can come up with. All I have now, are hopes and dreams...and if you follow this blog, maybe we'll see it turn into more than that. Together.
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