Category Archives: a quick word

DJ Coles and "Your Grace"

DJ Coles and "Your Grace"

Over the past couple of weeks God has been ministering to my weary soul with the music of DJ Coles. Most of you aren’t familiar with his work. I wasn’t either until early May when DJ was the guest worship leader at our church’s spring revival. DJ serves as the youth pastor and “praise and worship” leader for Sunday worship services at Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, which is located in within our community.

From the moment he took the microphone in hand, I was keenly moved by DJ’s giftedness to not only sing, but also to write some incredible music that moves a heart into an immediate posture of worship. I sat and wept through most of his selections. In particular, DJ favored us with many of the songs off of his first full-album release, Your Grace.

 


Your Grace is a collection of songs written for an audience in search of healing, inspiration, and God’s grace. The project is meant to inspire the human spirit beyond what may seem impossible or what may appear unbearable. After an agonizing year of uncertainty and loss, DJ was inspired to write songs that would help others through life’s challenges and triumphs.

From the title track, “Your Grace” to “Good Morning, Lord” to “Only a Prayer Away” and every song in between, you will sense and hear DJ’s desire to persevere and to relate with everyday people. Also peppered within the album you will find what Barry Weeks has called, “Our nation’s next anthem”—referring to DJ’s song, “A Prayer for America” (a personal favorite). You can get a brief listen of it by clicking here. Trust me when I tell you that not one song on this album is wasted. I love every track (how often can you say that?).

How thankful I am to have come across DJ’s ministry in this season of my life. God timed this “sacred intersection” with perfect precision. I couldn’t have appreciated the depth of DJ’s gifting had I not been in this posture of deep need.

Perhaps you understand. Maybe this day your heart is also in deep need of a touch from God—a touch that will penetrate through your pain and your weary in order to soothe the ache within. Your Grace offers that touch, and DJ has offered three copies for me to give away via the blog. One of the copies is reserved for Runner Mom (you all do know that she is making a road trip next week to come and visit with me…); the other two will be given away to those of you who leave a comment on this post.

In addition, if you’d like to order your own copy of Your Grace, you can do so through amazon.com (click here) or at cdbaby.com (click here). Further, if you would like to contact DJ regarding leading a time of worship at your gathering, you can email him at: [email protected] .

I am reminded again today (thanks for the call Joanne), that we all have a story to tell; some of us will write it. Some of us will sing it. Some of us will tell it, but all of us are commissioned with the task of living it! I won’t live it exactly as you do, but by God’s grace, I will walk the rest of my earthly days on purpose and with a heavenly end in mind.

Life is a precious gift. His grace … all the more. Live it like you mean it, friends. As always,

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Waiting

“I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.” (Psalm 27:12-14).

Today has been a day of routine waiting. From the moment my feet hit the floor, it’s been full speed ahead, pushing the various duties of my life through the motions and then some more. It’s not been bad … just full.

In the midst of my commotion, God gave me a couple of moments. Moments I would have missed had I not been waiting. As I consider them now, they seem a better trade for the stress of my waiting.

First, I met Jenny and her infant daughter, Lily Ann. Like me, they were waiting in the office of a local oral surgeon. I was waiting for a consult with the doctor; they were waiting for “husband and dad” to emerge from his wisdom teeth surgery. After perusing magazines for over an hour, I finally put down the “Good Housekeeping” and made my way over to the couch where they were sitting.

Lily Ann was a delight. At six months old, she coos and smiles at the top her game. I couldn’t escape her drool or big blue eyes. Her mother, Jenny, was quite eager for me to engage with her beautiful daughter. At just twenty years of age, Jenny could have easily been my daughter. We talked and laughed and shared a couch for a good thirty minutes before her being called to pick up her husband at the side door of the building.

Prior to her departure, I told her about our church; she told me that since moving to the area five months ago (they are a military family from Athens, GA), she and her husband have been “looking” for a church. She grew up Baptist; I grew up Methodist, and when she asked me if we were close to being the “same,” I assured her that we were—that, in fact, God doesn’t look at our denominations. God looks at our hearts. I passed her my card, and we parted as friends.

One moment I would have missed had I not been waiting.

Moment two came on the floor of a local resale shop. My son was trying on clothes for his upcoming trip to Bolivia. I was contemplating my tired when a woman emerged from the double doors at the back of the shop. She made her way over to me and asked for my opinion about the two objects she held in her hands.

One was a polka-dotted cookie jar; one was an ornate flower vase, blue with gold etching. With some hesitancy, she stated her request…

“Which one do you think will hold more sand?”

“Excuse me, sand? What are using this for?”

“Well, my brother died yesterday; we’re having him cremated and will be taking him to the river to scatter his ashes. Which one do you think might work better?”

“Tell me what you think and then tell me something about your brother.”

And with that, the floodgates opened as Geneva spent the next fifteen minutes describing to me the events of the previous twenty-four hours. Bill died in his wheelchair while talking with a friend at his assisted living facility. Dead at the age of sixty-two without warning, leaving behind at least one grieving sister who was in search of his “casket” in a resale shop.

I hugged Geneva, told her I would be praying for her throughout the day and then encouraged her to leave the cookie jar and vase behind and head to “Michael’s” for her purchase. If I could, I would have gone with her, but this was not my journey to make. This was simply a divine moment given to me in order to “enter into” someone else’s pain.

One moment I would have missed had I not been waiting.

Jenny, her daughter Lily Ann, and Geneva. Three of God’s precious children waiting for me on the road of life today. I am not surprised by their arrival to my world; instead, I am profoundly thankful for the sacred intersection that allowed me a few moments of connection between my heart and theirs. What a privilege and blessing it was to be able to seed some comfort and love on behalf of the kingdom. God will do with it what he will; I am content to leave the outcome in his best-intentioned hands.

Moments. Split fragments of time that call for our notice and our willingness to engage with the heart of God’s people. We may not see them coming, but when they arrive, may we all have the good sense and the kingdom perspective to call them worthy of our attention and intervention.

Perhaps this day, you’ve known a “wait.” If not, I’m fairly confident that one is on your way. What you do with that “wait” is up to you. As for me, I’d rather spend it on behalf of a people who need to know the lavish love of my exceedingly good God. And while I don’t relish a long lingering in the doctor’s office or an unscheduled stop at the resale shop, I pause today to consider what I would have missed by not receiving their requirement.

I think this day better lived because of them; I think my heart all the more.

Live your moments like you mean them, friends. Make them count for something more than what they seem. As always,

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On Empty…

I see Christ’s face before me tonight. There is a deep need in me to do so. My world is spinning fast, and my commitments are firm in their insistence. I haven’t slept well for days, and my nerves harbor on the edge of collapse.

I am tired, friends. The kind of tired that searches for answers but can never seem to take hold of the right one. I imagine you understand. Who of us hasn’t lived through a tired season or two in recent days?

Still and yet, there is no retirement for me as a mother, a wife, a friend, a follower of Jesus Christ. I don’t get to quit because my feelings tell me to do so. I get the privilege of “walking it through.” Yes, privilege. To see my life’s work as otherwise—to value it less than what God intends—is to till the seeds of discontent. And when tilling those seeds becomes more important than accepting my privileged participation as a member of the human race, then sure disaster lies on the horizon.

Thus, the rub. How do I balance exhaustion and privilege? Where is the dividing line between what I am called to do and what I feel that I can no longer do? When does taking care of my need become more important than taking care of the needs of others?

This is the current struggle of my heart. I could keep it to myself … bury it in hopes of being able to ride this wave a bit longer, but what does it profit me to stuff my angst? I’ve never been able to reason that as helpful. Rather, I believe that confession is very good for the soul. In choosing to do so, I believe that there is someone else … perhaps even you … who needs the witness of my admission.

My weakness to strengthen you. Yours to strengthen me. This doesn’t make for an easy understanding; it simply and profoundly “is” what the body of Christ does.

We depend.
We befriend.
We bend.
We lend.
We tend.
We mend.
We comprehend…

so that in the end, the body grows stronger. Walks better. Shines brighter and lives purer.

For all of the struggle that feeds my flesh this night, I willingly embrace the high and holy privilege of being yoked alongside of you. I’m part of something bigger than what exists inside of me. My life is not lived in isolation, even when I reason solitude to be the better option.

Sometimes, it is the better option. Sometimes not. Wisdom comes from knowing the difference between the two. Tonight, wisdom tells me that my exhaustion mandates a much needed pause—at least until I get a good night’s sleep and a heavy dose of doing “little to nothing” for a few days.

Come Monday, summer kicks into full swing over here. I haven’t yet decided how I feel about all of that (although I have an inclination or two). I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, thanks for your understanding. I covet your prayers and need your friendship now more than ever before.

You are some of best parts of my day. God did me an incredible favor when he decided to intersect my life with yours. Words fail to adequately express my deep love and fondest affection for all of you who make my walk a richer pilgrimage. Keep to the road friends. Keep to Jesus, and I’ll see you on the other side of some rest. As always,

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A Good Day

A Good Day

Good days.

I don’t know if we get a quota on them—like one good day a week … a month … a year … until we reach the max, and then we’re done. I know that there have been seasons in my life that seemed to portion out like that. Times when no matter how I turned things, wished for things, and even prayed for things, good remained hidden.

But not today. Today was a good day any way you turned it. In fact, this week has spent in good measure. Full and rich and close to perfect. Yes, there have been moments of chaos and times when my mind wandered beyond the boundaries of certainties. Tears have found their home upon my cheeks, and a pain or two has whispered its insistence into my heart.

But as I stand this night on the threshold of a seventh-day pause, I do so with a backward glance that yields a satisfactory nod to a week well-lived and to a God who isn’t capable of authoring otherwise. We sometimes think that he does … author otherwise. When pain, hardship, heartache and questions are our requirement, it’s difficult to reason the good of God.

I understand. Life has afforded me a few occasions for arriving at that conclusion. But life and the pursuit of all things sacred have also afforded me something else.

A growing understanding and knowledge of God.

For every comprehension that eludes me, for every question that surfaces in my heart to challenge the integrity and goodness of the God whom I call Father, there is an overriding and overwhelming anchor that pushes my thoughts through to the other side of my confusion.

Faith and the certainty of all things therein.

That is where my conclusion lies. In the unseen and unimaginable wealth of a God who is willing to sustain my breath a day longer in hopes that I will arrive at a declaration concerning his incomparable goodness. Regardless of the mitigating factors that collect and gather to beg my thoughts in another direction, God is after my acknowledging him for his goodness.

Some days, like today, it’s an easy reach … an easy write … an easy prayer of thanks. Some days, not so much. Perhaps for many of you, there’s been nothing easy about this day. I’ve heard from a few of you. I want you to know that I walk with you. I covenant with you in prayer for some easy and some identifiable good to work its way onto the scene of your life. But just because we don’t always see God’s good doesn’t mean that it has been diminished because of our difficult.

This faulty theology cannot stand up to the truth of who our Father IS. We can spend a lifetime blaming him, labeling him, squeezing him into a box that “fits” our need to have everything make sense, but at the end of the day … at the end of this life … no seemingly justifiable scrutiny on our part will keep God from being good. He simply and profoundly cannot help himself.

Good is what God IS. Good is what God does. God’s good is what woke you up this morning. God’s good is what will safely see you through another night’s rest. God’s good cannot be fully explained nor can it be completely measured. Still and yet, we get the privilege of trying. And for me, today, it was an easy find.

Today was about as good as I imagine an earthly good to be. Tomorrow holds a good all its own. When I get there, I pray for the willing eyes to vision its unfolding and the expectant heart to receive it all the more. I earnestly and sincerely desire the same for you. Would that we all could get to the end our week with the overriding and truthful conclusion that our God is good and worthy of all our praise.

Sing him well in your Sabbath tomorrow. From my pew, I’ll be listening for your voice alongside mine.

So shall he. So shall he.

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A Building Matter…

“Go and tell my servant David, ‘This is what the LORD says: You are not the one to build me a house to dwell in. I have not dwelt in a house from the day I brought Israel up out of Egypt to this day. I have moved from one tent site to another, from one dwelling place to another.’” (1 Chronicle 17:4-5).

I have little time to be here today, friends. Still and yet, I’ve been stuck in 1 Chronicles 17 for the better part of an hour and feel like I want to say something. Nothing new on my end; “saying” something seems an easy fit with my personality. That being said, not all my “saying” is worthy of the “saying.” Are you following me?

Even if you’re not, there’s something I want to say to you. Something I think that God would like for us to remember as we go about the business of our day, desperately trying to “build” a life that matters. We’re all busy building something.

Careers.
Bank accounts.
Families.
Ministries.
Reputations.
Kingdoms.
Faith.
Followers.
Futures.
Agendas.
Selfishness.
___________________ (you fill in the blank).

Regardless of the “dressing” we’re wearing this morning, whether it be a hard hat, a whistle, and briefcase, some overalls, or, perhaps even our pj’s from the night before, you and I woke up to build something this morning. And while our intentions may operate from the purest of motives, nothing will build as lasting … nothing will frame as enduring… without the hands of God in the mix.

Here’s the deal. As Christians, we’re tempted to think that “If we build it, He will come.” Sometimes it seems to happen that way. But there’s a danger in thinking that the work of our hands and hearts can contain the holy presence of Almighty God. Our “building” may sound good on paper … might even match up with the truth of God’s Word and even receive the prayerful support of a well-intentioned committee or a home-team advantage.

But unless God builds it, we labor in vain … in our prideful attempts at trying to make God happen rather than simply letting God be. Where he will. When he will. Moving from one tent to another as he will.

You and I are that tent. As New Testament believers, we house the presence of the living God in this covering of our flesh—a temporary covering that will soon trade in for the eternal cloaking of a forever structure. Wherever we walk, he walks. God inhabits our flesh in order to build his kingdom through us, most days in spite of us. Most days we get it backwards. Most days we move ahead of God’s process.

We build and then we ask and then we wonder what went wrong. Why isn’t it working? Why isn’t the all-consuming fire from God descending upon our precious altar of hard work and sacrifice and causing it to burn with all the fervor and purpose of heaven? Why do the offerings of my brother or my sister’s heart seem more pleasing to God? Where is my payoff for doing something for kingdom?

Oh friends, we mean well. Really we do, and I believe that God honors our meaning well. We can’t always see on the front side of our laboring which way it’s going to go. Sometimes we just jump in with all the wild and wooly of a well-meaning trust, and rather than smacking us down immediately, God tenderly esteems the “want to” behind our building. He sees our hearts that are eager to do something … to be something … to work toward something that will matter in the end.

He doesn’t balk at our desire. Instead, he simply asks us for the shaping of that desire. For us to bring our desire before him … to sit with him in uninterrupted pause and consider the “building” together. As the “tent holders” of an extraordinary King and his kingdom therein, we carry the weighty responsibility of bringing Jesus into the mix of our everyday doings.

Wouldn’t it be better to consult him before dragging him into the work of our hands? In doing so, we might save ourselves a heap of heartache and disappointment on the front end of a long labor.

Regardless of your current building project, God is with you. Whether you started it in vain or whether you’ve sensed his fingerprints from the very beginning. God doesn’t abandon us mid-stream. He may not be a fan of our plan (and therefore calling us to change course), but God has and always will be a fan of our hearts. He understands that we won’t always get it right. That sometimes we let our dreams about “building something bigger” eclipse his dreams about “building something lasting.”

And I don’t know how you stand on the issue, but as for me, I’m after a “something” that is going to last. God determines the size of the building, and whether it is a big thing or a small fraction of that big, it will be a perfect fit into a perfect plan that constructs a perfect kingdom within a perfect forever.

I can live with that. Indeed, I can run with this one. Thus, I’d better get out of these pj’s and get on with my moving on. God’s got something to build through me; you too. And while we may not be able to see the fullness of the plan in this moment, we can be confident that there is one. May we all have the good sense and willing heart to sit before our Father this day and ask for it rather than assuming our wisdom and strength enough to build it. Thus, I pray…

Forgive us, Father, when we think ourselves worthy of building our lives in isolation. Your hands build everlasting. Mine build to dust. Keep me mindful and humble of the chasm between the two. Keep me thankful for the grace that covers my willful ignorance accordingly. Amen.

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PS: Whew… that’s a lot of saying for someone who doesn’t have much time today! That being said, I believe someone needed to hear it. I certainly did. If you want to take further time with this concept, please read 1 Chronicles 17 and see what God might be saying to you about your current “building” project. Mine looks a whole lot like a WIP (work in progress) near completion, but that’s another post for another day. Shalom.

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