"To love God is to love His voice." Mark Batterson - Primal
I started reading Mark Batterson's new book "Primal" last week. Its Christmas and life has been busy, challenging and wonderful all at the same time. Honestly, regardless of Christmas, that statement applies. I am in a season where God is very close but hearing His voice has been difficult.
One of my hero's, Bill Johnson, was on a conference call with about a hundred of us the other day. He was talking about hearing and discerning Gods voice. The voice of God has been my one pursuit this year. However else God has revealed Himself to me, via the Bible, nature, my beautiful Karen, my kids or friends, I am most interested in His personal and intimate voice - the one of a kind voice He has for me, the voice only my heart can hear.
So I asked Bill during the conference call - via instant message - how to hear God in a season where He is close but His voice seems distant. Bills response was simple. "Go back to the things you did when you first heard his voice." Essentially what Bill was saying is, go back to the wonder of your earlier times with God, the places you first fell in love and start there.
Primal is a book that encourages both the brand new believer and the battle scared saint to always remember their first love - the voice of God. Marks passion is that we would awe at the wonder of God; that we would see not just with the natural eye but from heavens perspective. And mostly, Mark seeks to release a deeper revelation regarding Gods beautiful voice - how to hear it, how to know it, how to fall in love with it again.
I would most definitely recommended the book!
Merry Christmas all and may you hear Gods good and intimate one of a kind voice for you in this coming year!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
New Song - Northern Lights
Well, I am playing again! I have had some of these songs brewing for years now. This one is already celebrating three. I've had no outlet and no grace... "But the times, they are a changing." It seems good to me now to sing again. Soooo, yet another song dusted off.
I went to see the Northern Lights
So bright, reflected of your eyes
As your glory cloud descends,
Hey friends, its time that we got going
Come on in out of the cold, come home
Lets go find this Kingdom come, well done, well done
Let me find my joy complete
Let me see, oh love be my sweet witness
Come on in out of the cold, come home
Lets go find this Kingdom come, well done, well done
When the sun sets on my shoulder
When the northern lights shine bold
When my troubles, there all over, well done
Come on in out of the cold, come home
Lets go find this Kingdom come, well done, well done
I went to see the Northern Lights
So bright, reflected of your eyes
As your glory cloud descends,
Hey friends, its time that we got going
Come on in out of the cold, come home
Lets go find this Kingdom come, well done, well done
Let me find my joy complete
Let me see, oh love be my sweet witness
Come on in out of the cold, come home
Lets go find this Kingdom come, well done, well done
When the sun sets on my shoulder
When the northern lights shine bold
When my troubles, there all over, well done
Come on in out of the cold, come home
Lets go find this Kingdom come, well done, well done
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Lightning On The Lake
This summer I did some jet skiing. We bought the skis a few years back and they have been nothing but fun. Its exhilarating, that first trip of the day, flying over the water. I always find my soul praising God. On this particular summer day, it was the brothers Clark. Just us four boys being … well, boys. Though the weather started off perfect, soon after launching the skis a storm threatened.
I have a memory from when I was five of playing out in a thunderstorm with my cousin Mark. It was one of those freak thunderstorms - one minute it’s a beautiful sunny day, the next, the clouds have turned ugly and the sky opens. It poured. I have a clear image to this day of lightning flashing at the end of the driveway and the thunder crashing down on our heads. I also remember laughing and singing raucously with Mark, “Its raining its pouring the old man is snoring” as we marched fully clothed in circles around the circumference of my little blue plastic pool.
It’s a great memory and it’s only slightly dampened by the arrival of my mothers shrill and anxious screaming. “Jason, Mark! Come inside! Now!” She seemed possessed as she gestured hysterically at us from the porch to hurry. It certainly didn’t match my euphoric feelings but by the time Mark and I stood in the kitchen, wrapped in towels and dripping water on the linoleum, I had, if not a clear understanding, at least a better grasp of what happens to little boys who get struck by lightning.
Now some children after hearing about blackened toenails and smoking heads would never go out in a thunderstorm again but it was too late for me. You see, for a moment I experienced the wonder of standing out in a downpour and it was glorious. So, the other day while out jet skiing with my brothers, I couldn’t help but stay out in the storm.
It came while we were on the open water. We idled alone on the lake watching the black wall of clouds approach. The sky went from bright afternoon to dusk in minutes. Sheets of rain hit the far end of the lake, it was moving toward us quickly. It was violent and beautiful. Then lightning began to strike the water and we started counting - just like when we were kids. "One one thousand, two one thousand." The thunder boomed. "Two miles away" Joel said, a grin on his face.
Another flash, "One one thousand" BOOM! It was coming fast. My mothers voice faintly tugged at my mind. "Maybe we should head to shore?" I said. "Yeah" Ben sighed, he was in the water but had started climbing on to the back of Joel's ski. CRACK BOOM! "That one was close" I yelled over a sudden gust of wind. I think we could all hear moms voice now. We raced for shore.
We docked the skis just as the first fat drops fell. Then, being fascinated by the storm and intoxicated with its wildness, we swam under the raised dock and waited it out in the water. That is, Joel, Ben and myself swam beneath the dock. Josiah, the fourth brother, apparently heard moms voice at full volume with clear inflection and decided to to towel off. He waited it out like a civilized person - dry and under a roof.
The lightning and thunder did not disappoint. The rain fell so heavy you couldn’t see 10 yards. I was a boy again, making jokes, laughing and though I didn’t sing, it was close. We told stories about people getting struck by lightning - each one of us trying to better the previous tale. Then Joel gave a statistic that 9 out of 10 people struck by lightning survived. I was just about to make a joke, you know, about how there was only three of us in the water and how that seemed like good odds when -
Someone kicked me! A spear to my kidneys!
At the same moment, both Ben and Joel also appeared to have been kicked. Both of them looked at me with pained confusion. All at once it dawned on us. Then, as we realized what had happened, we started laughing, hysterically. Joel screamed, “Get out of the water!” - moms voice couldn't have been louder if she'd been standing next to us
“Joel, is my head smoking?”
You know, I have never, in my entire life, wondered what happens when lightning strikes water and you are in it… and now, I will never have to.
Later, Josiah, who had watched the whole thing from the dry safety of the covered dock, said that the lightning had struck only 30 feet from us…
The moral here? Well, lets just thank God I don’t have ten brothers…
And, I should probably listen to moms voice now and again; she knows a thing or two.
Love you mom...
I have a memory from when I was five of playing out in a thunderstorm with my cousin Mark. It was one of those freak thunderstorms - one minute it’s a beautiful sunny day, the next, the clouds have turned ugly and the sky opens. It poured. I have a clear image to this day of lightning flashing at the end of the driveway and the thunder crashing down on our heads. I also remember laughing and singing raucously with Mark, “Its raining its pouring the old man is snoring” as we marched fully clothed in circles around the circumference of my little blue plastic pool.
It’s a great memory and it’s only slightly dampened by the arrival of my mothers shrill and anxious screaming. “Jason, Mark! Come inside! Now!” She seemed possessed as she gestured hysterically at us from the porch to hurry. It certainly didn’t match my euphoric feelings but by the time Mark and I stood in the kitchen, wrapped in towels and dripping water on the linoleum, I had, if not a clear understanding, at least a better grasp of what happens to little boys who get struck by lightning.
Now some children after hearing about blackened toenails and smoking heads would never go out in a thunderstorm again but it was too late for me. You see, for a moment I experienced the wonder of standing out in a downpour and it was glorious. So, the other day while out jet skiing with my brothers, I couldn’t help but stay out in the storm.
It came while we were on the open water. We idled alone on the lake watching the black wall of clouds approach. The sky went from bright afternoon to dusk in minutes. Sheets of rain hit the far end of the lake, it was moving toward us quickly. It was violent and beautiful. Then lightning began to strike the water and we started counting - just like when we were kids. "One one thousand, two one thousand." The thunder boomed. "Two miles away" Joel said, a grin on his face.
Another flash, "One one thousand" BOOM! It was coming fast. My mothers voice faintly tugged at my mind. "Maybe we should head to shore?" I said. "Yeah" Ben sighed, he was in the water but had started climbing on to the back of Joel's ski. CRACK BOOM! "That one was close" I yelled over a sudden gust of wind. I think we could all hear moms voice now. We raced for shore.
We docked the skis just as the first fat drops fell. Then, being fascinated by the storm and intoxicated with its wildness, we swam under the raised dock and waited it out in the water. That is, Joel, Ben and myself swam beneath the dock. Josiah, the fourth brother, apparently heard moms voice at full volume with clear inflection and decided to to towel off. He waited it out like a civilized person - dry and under a roof.
The lightning and thunder did not disappoint. The rain fell so heavy you couldn’t see 10 yards. I was a boy again, making jokes, laughing and though I didn’t sing, it was close. We told stories about people getting struck by lightning - each one of us trying to better the previous tale. Then Joel gave a statistic that 9 out of 10 people struck by lightning survived. I was just about to make a joke, you know, about how there was only three of us in the water and how that seemed like good odds when -
Someone kicked me! A spear to my kidneys!
At the same moment, both Ben and Joel also appeared to have been kicked. Both of them looked at me with pained confusion. All at once it dawned on us. Then, as we realized what had happened, we started laughing, hysterically. Joel screamed, “Get out of the water!” - moms voice couldn't have been louder if she'd been standing next to us
“Joel, is my head smoking?”
You know, I have never, in my entire life, wondered what happens when lightning strikes water and you are in it… and now, I will never have to.
Later, Josiah, who had watched the whole thing from the dry safety of the covered dock, said that the lightning had struck only 30 feet from us…
The moral here? Well, lets just thank God I don’t have ten brothers…
And, I should probably listen to moms voice now and again; she knows a thing or two.
Love you mom...
Thursday, December 10, 2009
John Mark McMillan - Skeleton Bones
I had a chance to go to a filming of a John Mark video for the song "How He Loves" a few weeks back. Don't know when that one will be released but I look forward to seeing it. This guy is one of my favorite artists right now. He is gifted, anointed and madly in love with God - check out this song.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Maddys New Book!
My oldest daughter is the most beautiful person I know, she almost outshines her mom. She is my favorite... I have four favorites in total.
There is nothing more amazing than listening to her tell me about her day, or her idea on how she wants to re-arrange her bedroom, or what she wants to buy her mom for Christmas and how we can get it on sale if we go this weekend...
I am so proud of her - she is my delight!
Here is a book she wrote for a project with her Uncle Shelly. Its a good read.
There is nothing more amazing than listening to her tell me about her day, or her idea on how she wants to re-arrange her bedroom, or what she wants to buy her mom for Christmas and how we can get it on sale if we go this weekend...
I am so proud of her - she is my delight!
Here is a book she wrote for a project with her Uncle Shelly. Its a good read.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Identity
I recently heard Don Miller speak about how this God journey we are on is kinda like a story. I love reading Dons books and hearing him speak, he not only makes me giggle, he also has some wonderful things to say - about life, about God. I too think this journey we are on is like a story. I think all of us want to live a good story, one filled with love, wonder and promise; a story that is inspired, a story that one-day our kids will read to their kids.
I am convinced of two things; first, the best stories end happily ever after. And second, before they end “happily ever after” they are filled with conflict and risk and sometimes even death...
Jesus lived the best story. His was full of wonder and mercy and love and friendship. It was also a story with conflict and risk, even unto death. And if there was a crisis in his story, it was a crisis of identity. Not with Jesus, he never doubted who he was, but those around him. If you think about it, the question of His identity followed him everywhere he went.
I would like to suggest that the question of identity is not only the theme of Jesus’ story but it’s ours as well. The good news is, Jesus was sure in his identity and because of this, we can also become sure in ours…
Jesus was actually born into a crisis of identity. As far as public perception was concerned, his birth was a little sketchy. His inception was miraculous. He was born of a virgin. My Bible refers to Him as “God with us” (Matt 1:18) and as “The Son of God” (Luke 1:31). However, that part of my Bible was unavailable at the time of Jesus, as it hadn’t been written yet.
Most likely, Jesus grew up with the stigma of “bastard.” Outside of a few shepherds and some Wise Men who knew the whole story, his birth appeared scandalous. He was born out of wedlock as Joseph waited until after his birth to “tie the knot.” But Jesus was not insecure. He knew who he was. He was sure in his identity.
We know this because of the one story of Jesus in his youth. When he was twelve, his family journeyed to Jerusalem. As they were heading home, his parents lost track of him and for three days they searched the streets of Jerusalem. They finally found him at the temple. When his mother asked him where he had been he replied, "Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's house" (Luke 2:49). Jesus was sure in his identity.
We don’t hear about Him again until he turns 30. The story is picked back up with Jesus baptism. The Bible says that when He came up out of the water, he was filled with the Holy Spirit. A dove descended and God spoke in a thunderous voice. And in case anyone was unsure, God made it perfectly clear saying, “This is my Son with whom I am well pleased.” At that moment it went public; Jesus was the Son of God. We heard it from an angel, we heard it from the child and now we’ve heard from the mouth of God.
I would have expected Jesus to start his public ministry upon this proclamation, but instead, he is led into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. (Matt 4:1)
Forty days Jesus went without food or water. Three times Satan tempted him and each time he went after Jesus’ identity. “If you are the son of God,” he challenged. But Jesus was sure in his identity.
If you keep reading the rest of His story you will find that everywhere he went his identity was questioned and challenged; by the religious teachers, by entire towns, by government officials and even by his closest friends. And while all this is happening, Jesus is living a story of beauty and wonder. He is healing blind and def, lame and mute. He’s raising the dead and making lots of food out of little food. He’s walking on water and calming storms. He is releasing life to anyone who receives him as he is - the Son of God. In fact, everything he did confirmed he was Gods Son.
If the story of Jesus life had a battle, it was a daily fight for identity. If his story had an antagonist it was doubt, better known as unbelief. And each time Jesus was confronted with the crisis of identity he chose to believe what God had said about him from the very beginning. Jesus was sure in his identity.
Three years after Jesus baptism we read about how he rides into Jerusalem being worshiped. Finally, He is received by the people as He truly is – the Son of God, the King of Kings, love in human form. And for a moment we take a breath… and then…
Jesus is betrayed.
Only three days after his triumphant arrival to Jerusalem he finds himself bound and standing in front of the religious rulers. His identity is officially and for a last time questioned. "Are you then the Son of God?" (Luke 22:70a) he is asked.
And Jesus, knowing what lay ahead, knowing he faced a brutal beating and then a cross… And Jesus, sure in his identity, said, "You are right in saying I am" (Luke 22:70b).
To be honest, my entire life has been a search for identity. And I am becoming sure. Daily I come into a greater understanding regarding the fact that this faith journey I am on is a battle for who I am in Christ. I am at war with an antagonist known as unbelief.
God has invited me and you as well, to believe - to believe that he is love, that he works on our behalf toward good and that we are his sons and daughters with a profound heritage. I am confidant that our faith journey is about daily deciding to be sure in our identity.
I would like to suggest that though we were born into a crisis of identity, the moment we asked God to join us on the journey, that crisis was resolved. The moment we surrendered our life to Jesus, the moment he became Lord and Savior, the moment we received his love, is the moment we stepped into a new identity. Through believing, Jesus not only confirmed and revealed his identity but ultimately he won our identity for us as well. Jesus rose from the grave and forever answered that question for those who choose to believe. We are sons and daughters of God. We are loved and becoming love.
Our Identity is found in believing in the absolute goodness of Gods love. This journey we are on will have its breath in that revelation. To the extent we know this truth is to the extent we can engage this life giving adventure story. Like all good stories there will be mountains and valleys, there will be scary moments and wonder. And always it ends happily ever after. And that’s what I’m getting at. Following God is risky, absolutely. It might even lead to death on a cross. But because Jesus went first, we can be sure in our identity and therefore know that our story, like the best stories, always ends well – always.
I am convinced of two things; first, the best stories end happily ever after. And second, before they end “happily ever after” they are filled with conflict and risk and sometimes even death...
Jesus lived the best story. His was full of wonder and mercy and love and friendship. It was also a story with conflict and risk, even unto death. And if there was a crisis in his story, it was a crisis of identity. Not with Jesus, he never doubted who he was, but those around him. If you think about it, the question of His identity followed him everywhere he went.
I would like to suggest that the question of identity is not only the theme of Jesus’ story but it’s ours as well. The good news is, Jesus was sure in his identity and because of this, we can also become sure in ours…
Jesus was actually born into a crisis of identity. As far as public perception was concerned, his birth was a little sketchy. His inception was miraculous. He was born of a virgin. My Bible refers to Him as “God with us” (Matt 1:18) and as “The Son of God” (Luke 1:31). However, that part of my Bible was unavailable at the time of Jesus, as it hadn’t been written yet.
Most likely, Jesus grew up with the stigma of “bastard.” Outside of a few shepherds and some Wise Men who knew the whole story, his birth appeared scandalous. He was born out of wedlock as Joseph waited until after his birth to “tie the knot.” But Jesus was not insecure. He knew who he was. He was sure in his identity.
We know this because of the one story of Jesus in his youth. When he was twelve, his family journeyed to Jerusalem. As they were heading home, his parents lost track of him and for three days they searched the streets of Jerusalem. They finally found him at the temple. When his mother asked him where he had been he replied, "Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's house" (Luke 2:49). Jesus was sure in his identity.
We don’t hear about Him again until he turns 30. The story is picked back up with Jesus baptism. The Bible says that when He came up out of the water, he was filled with the Holy Spirit. A dove descended and God spoke in a thunderous voice. And in case anyone was unsure, God made it perfectly clear saying, “This is my Son with whom I am well pleased.” At that moment it went public; Jesus was the Son of God. We heard it from an angel, we heard it from the child and now we’ve heard from the mouth of God.
I would have expected Jesus to start his public ministry upon this proclamation, but instead, he is led into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. (Matt 4:1)
Forty days Jesus went without food or water. Three times Satan tempted him and each time he went after Jesus’ identity. “If you are the son of God,” he challenged. But Jesus was sure in his identity.
If you keep reading the rest of His story you will find that everywhere he went his identity was questioned and challenged; by the religious teachers, by entire towns, by government officials and even by his closest friends. And while all this is happening, Jesus is living a story of beauty and wonder. He is healing blind and def, lame and mute. He’s raising the dead and making lots of food out of little food. He’s walking on water and calming storms. He is releasing life to anyone who receives him as he is - the Son of God. In fact, everything he did confirmed he was Gods Son.
If the story of Jesus life had a battle, it was a daily fight for identity. If his story had an antagonist it was doubt, better known as unbelief. And each time Jesus was confronted with the crisis of identity he chose to believe what God had said about him from the very beginning. Jesus was sure in his identity.
Three years after Jesus baptism we read about how he rides into Jerusalem being worshiped. Finally, He is received by the people as He truly is – the Son of God, the King of Kings, love in human form. And for a moment we take a breath… and then…
Jesus is betrayed.
Only three days after his triumphant arrival to Jerusalem he finds himself bound and standing in front of the religious rulers. His identity is officially and for a last time questioned. "Are you then the Son of God?" (Luke 22:70a) he is asked.
And Jesus, knowing what lay ahead, knowing he faced a brutal beating and then a cross… And Jesus, sure in his identity, said, "You are right in saying I am" (Luke 22:70b).
To be honest, my entire life has been a search for identity. And I am becoming sure. Daily I come into a greater understanding regarding the fact that this faith journey I am on is a battle for who I am in Christ. I am at war with an antagonist known as unbelief.
God has invited me and you as well, to believe - to believe that he is love, that he works on our behalf toward good and that we are his sons and daughters with a profound heritage. I am confidant that our faith journey is about daily deciding to be sure in our identity.
I would like to suggest that though we were born into a crisis of identity, the moment we asked God to join us on the journey, that crisis was resolved. The moment we surrendered our life to Jesus, the moment he became Lord and Savior, the moment we received his love, is the moment we stepped into a new identity. Through believing, Jesus not only confirmed and revealed his identity but ultimately he won our identity for us as well. Jesus rose from the grave and forever answered that question for those who choose to believe. We are sons and daughters of God. We are loved and becoming love.
Our Identity is found in believing in the absolute goodness of Gods love. This journey we are on will have its breath in that revelation. To the extent we know this truth is to the extent we can engage this life giving adventure story. Like all good stories there will be mountains and valleys, there will be scary moments and wonder. And always it ends happily ever after. And that’s what I’m getting at. Following God is risky, absolutely. It might even lead to death on a cross. But because Jesus went first, we can be sure in our identity and therefore know that our story, like the best stories, always ends well – always.
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