I wrote this a few weeks back, before I learned of my Papaw’s death. Seems very appropriate. It was originally posted at The Rabbit Room. -Sam

He gets the words wrong, but his heart is in it as he sings. Andrew Peterson’s “The Queen of Iowa” somehow becomes “The King of Ireland” when sung by our two-year old son. Talk about progressive. His version goes beyond gender-neutrality into categorical inaccuracy and also breaks up those long-held biases about geographic specificity.

I thank God our cute little boy doesn’t yet fully understand all the words he tries to sing. For this is a song about suffering and death. And, of course, life and light. I hope, as he matures, he does get it.

I hope I do.

This seems like a good song (and story –see video blow) for some context on what we see as struggles and suffering and how we see them. It’s perhaps good for our New Year hopes. Are we wishing for a pain-free, suffering-free New Year? I’ll admit that it’s a deep longing for me. Part of that desire I view as righteous, longing for the Kingdom to come all the way and the world to be made right again. The other part is selfish, wanting to be spared the troubles God intends to use as tools to work good in me. Pain is often an avenue to graceful maturity.

Two of the sweetest and most refreshing Christian friends I met this year had recently experienced the death of their only child. In the deep well of their suffering, they spoke of all the good God was doing in their lives. They did more than speak, though. They sang along to the God-tells-me-who-I-am songs of Jason Gray with passion. My friend wasn’t the greatest singer, didn’t hit all the right notes. But it was among the most beautiful singing I’ve ever heard. Jason never had better accompaniment. I couldn’t sing along for the lump in my throat. This couple, so outfitted with reasons to surrender to bitterness and anger, radiated generosity and grace.

Do miracles still happen?

That is the mercy of God. That is maturity. God wants his children to have maturity –childlike faith and maturity.

We will not always get the words right and we will not always sing on-key, but let us keep singing.

So, Almighty God, do your work in us, frightened as we are. For we would be mature and childlike. We would be as you want us, for you are what we want and all our hearts need.

Andrew says meeting the Queen “…helped me to believe the words of my own songs.”

Maybe a good prayer for the New Year is that God would give us experiences, even painful ones if he must, that cause us to believe, and believe more deeply, all that we confess.

Because sometimes we get the words right, but our hearts wrong. The reverse is better, I guess. But best of all would be both.

May our hearts and tongues be in harmony this year and in the years to come. May they sing the same song, for the glory of God, Most High.

Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church, of which I became a minister according to the stewardship from God that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known, the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints. To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ. For this I toil, struggling with all his energy that he powerfully works within me.
(Colossians 1:24-29 ESV)

Happy New Year!

Later this week I’ll post some more substantial New Year thoughts.

Today: The great Eric Peters and Ha ha.

Trust me.

Buy one (or all?)of  Andy’s records here.

This is beyond cute. There’s cute. This is past that point. A ways past.

HT: Whit Elam

Advent is upon us (as of yesterday). I’m not planning to post a lot about Advent this year (did a little last year), but wanted to share a quick thought. I’m sharing it and it’s quick, like a cupcake that takes only moments to eat, but is still a tasty and nutritious to your spleen.

Advent is a “Penitential Season.” It’s also sometimes called the “Winter Lent.” This can sometimes freak out ordinary evangelicals (like me). People might believe that it’s an opportunity to earn favor with God by doing good works. That’s very badly missing the point. As my Dad has said a thousand times, we obey because we are sons, not to become sons.

Christians do acts of righteousness. Advent is a season where many Christians all over the world do particular acts of righteousness to focus on preparation to celebrate the first coming of Christ and deepen our longing for his coming again.

It’s a season to prepare for the festival of Christmas. It’s sort of like saying “no” to cookies before dinner to heighten anticipation and enjoyment of that dinner when it comes. It’s a season of self-denial to prepare for the festive joy of Christmastide.

Anyway, this song by Rich Mullins has always been a favorite. The kids were listening to this record tonight and it struck me how appropriate it was for this season of Advent.

From the chorus to What Susan Said:

“And we both feel lost,
But I remember what Susan said.
How love is found in the things we’ve given up,
More than in the things that we have kept.”

If it’s unfamiliar to you, the entire song (which is a lot about friendship) can be heard here. You can get a good deal on 3 Rich records here, including the one with this song on it, here.

Please note: I am not an advocate of cutting out stuff just to cut out stuff. I think stuff is great. Everything is stuff and God made it. God made a lot of stuff we don’t need for survival and that’s part of the joy of life. Yay stuff. Gnostic denial of the goodness of creation (including the body) is the pits. The pits, I say. It’s infecting the church big-time in our era and I don’t want to give any ammunition to that army. So don’t take this post that way. Fasting is good. But so is food. So is food with icing.

Thanks for tuning in.

Rich: Miss you, brother.

Originally posted at The Rabbit Room.

“I’ve seen Eric play his songs probably hundreds of times, and every time I’ve been struck by how blessedly peculiar he is. He’s self-effacing and passionate, he’s wry and gracious, he’s funny (especially when he doesn’t mean to be), he’s shy about his gifting and bold about his brokenness–and his songs are some of the most precariously honest songs I know. I need them. I think we all do–every peculiar one of us.”  –Andrew Peterson

It seems like everyone who knows Eric Peters can articulate the unique genius of his music better than he can. It’s kind of strange, since he’s a lyrical alchemist, making gold appear mysteriously from the bubbling cauldron of his soul. I can remember describing his music in writing on one occasion and his response was something like, “Seriously? I never thought of that before. Well, I guess so.”

I’ve always loved the music. Catchy and able to catch you off guard. Somehow, the careworn and carefree are often separated only by a soaring note from the most unique of all his instruments, his voice. That voice has always hooked me (and many others).

Eric’s music is a burrowing owl, digging down into the earth of your heart. It lingers there, nestling deep. It breathes and sleeps and sings. Just when you think it’s confined and heavy, it takes flight, shaking off its clinging clods and soaring into a sunlit sky.

I think that always happens with Eric’s records, but I believe this is part of what his new project is about. It’s one of many reasons I’m excited to support his Kickstarter campaign (which you still barely have time to help with). I’ve heard most of the songs that will be on this record and I expect it will be his best yet. You can be a part of making it. That is a pretty fun thing to do.

Eric is migrating. The new record, Birds of Relocation, is your ticket to ride. Beetles will be eaten, new heights will be reached, new sights will be seen, and new nests will be built. (People will not be pooped on.) Perching at the intersection of catchy pop-folk and liberated introspection, this is one songbird you shouldn’t miss. Open your window.

But don’t take my word for it.

“The thing I love about Eric Peters is that he is a master craftsman with words; a poet, even in his prose. I’m always one to connect first with the lyrics of a song, like I have to trust where the artist is leading me before submitting to the spell of the music. With Eric, you have that unequivocal trust in one who both knows exactly where you are and calls you higher in the same breath. Like the best writers, he pricks you out of complacency with the exquisitely disconcerting reminder that we’re not yet all we’re meant to be—but we’re on our way. And we’re not alone.” –Lanier Ivester

“Did you ask me to indoors Eric Peters? Oh sorry, well, I wholeheartedly endorse Eric Peter whether indoors or out. The vulnerable beauty of Scarce, Chrome or any of the Ridgely rarities I own are at home anywhere I go and I wouldn’t hesitate to put my money where my heart will inevitably be once I hear these tunes.” –Matt Conner

“The vast complexity of even Eric Peters’ minor and inchoate work puts one in mind of the greatest pillars of our musical landscape: Beethoven, Handel, Dylan, Esteban. That such a man, so small and so coarsely bearded, should alone possess power to rive asunder the very foundations of the acoustic/folk establishment and institute instead his own solitary and tyrannical vision of songcraft in a glorious Eric-ocracy of his own making, is cause indeed for for raucous and limitless celebration and, in the end, unbounded hope.” –A.S. Peterson

“A lot of people don’t realize this, but Eric Peters is younger than me. And yet he writes songs way better than I can. He supposedly cooks better than me too, but how would I know, since he’s never invited me over for his famous gumbo or étouffée or whatever it is? I’m pretty sure I’m better at board games than Eric. In any case, when he came over and ate my food, I beat him at a board game. I digress. This endorsement is mostly about Eric, not me. And from where I sit–a place of impeccable judgment and unimpeachable rectitude–I consider Eric Peters’ work to be brilliant. It grows out of an honesty and self-awareness that would terrify most other artists. But if the emotion in Eric’s music is raw, there’s nothing raw or unformed about the music itself. It’s thoughtful, challenging, excellent music. That’s just my opinion. But I’m rarely wrong.” –Jonathan Rogers, Ph.D.

“Eric Peters doesn’t write songs as much as he opens up a vein and bleeds them. That’s why his songs feel more like a transfusion than anything else.  His music is most meaningful, I think, to others who have lost some blood of their own. To them his songs are life giving and saving.

“Not to belabor the metaphor, but I think we live in a culture that by and large refuses to bleed or otherwise enter the gift of our pain. But the slow death of denial keeps us from finding our hearts and ultimately from truly coming alive.  Into this world, then, comes the gift of Eric Peter’s music that wounds while it heals.  Eric’s audience is likely to always be that brave but small group of people who aren’t afraid of the sight of blood because they recognize it as the life-giving force that it is.

“It often falls upon the living to care for the dying. Most of the hymns of our pop culture are broken anthems to self-indulgence and escapism that lead to a literal dead end. In a culture that sends Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed A Girl’ to the top of the charts, the humanity of Eric Peter’s ‘Chrome’ is especially meaningful.

“The more I hear Eric’s music, the more aware I am of how generous he is, always giving away every bit of hope for the journey as he finds it. I’m grateful to be able to give back and help make space in the world for songs that bleed life, truth, hope, and beauty.” –Jason Gray

SUPPORT ERIC’S NEW PROJECT HERE. IT’S BASICALLY A PRE-ORDER WITH COOLER OPTIONS.

Veggietales songwriter and super-swell guy Randall Goodgame will be here in southern West Virginia at 7pm THIS FRIDAY, 11/11/11, for a FREE Slugs & Bugs children’s concert.

Please consider bringing any 10 and under children and anyone who enjoys fun, silly, good music.

Providence Bible Church is hosting the event at 116 Willowood Road, Beckley, WV (MAP). The reason Providence wants to host this free concert is to serve and love the children and grownups of our area. It’s also to connect with, serve, and love other churches and the body of Christ in the Beckley area.  Can you help make that a reality by bringing a group from your church? You are VERY welcome!

Remember, it’s free. Free of charge, free of tricky moves to advertise our church, free of bait-and-switch tactics to convert you. Come as you are. Feel free!

Come and enjoy the fun!

I am super-delighted to report that my church, Providence Bible Church, will be welcoming Randall Goodgame to Beckley, West Virginia at 7pm on 11/11/11. (That’s November 11th.) We’re inviting all kids and their parents to come and enjoy a happy, hopping time at our area’s first Slugs & Bugs show! Yay. Check out our Facebook page for the concert for details and let us know you’re coming.

The new Slugs & Bugs record, Under Where? released Wednesday. You can buy it here. Our family LOVES it and I’m pretty sure yours will too.

There is an absolutely spot-on review of the new Slugs & Bugs record from Randall Goodgame over at The Rabbit Room.  Jonathan Rogers puts it through the uprights from 75 yards with 20 yards to spare. Here is a small portion. -Sam

“There is a long tradition that treats story and song as a means of sneaking lessons past our children’s defenses. “Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,” according to Mary Poppins. Mrs. Jerry Seinfeld published a book called Deceptively Delicious, with recipes for spinach brownies and chocolate chip muffins with yellow squash and whatnot, whereby children unwittingly ingest vitamins while they eat dessert. That’s not what happens here. In the Slugs & Bugs world, the sugar is the medicine. It’s a world where delight carries the day, whether that’s the delight we experience in ninjas and lightning bugs and getting dizzy, or the delight that God experiences when he sees the children he loves so deeply. Slugs and Bugs reminds us that delight is intertwined with grace, coming and going.

“So, children, what lesson can we learn from Slugs & Bugs: Under Where? Simply this: the world where we live and move and have our being is a world full of delight. And also this: you, child, are a source of delight yourself. You are loved.”

That was Jonathan Rogers. Read the entire Rabbit Room review AND LISTEN TO A FREE SONG YOU WILL LOVE here.

Josh Garrels. Love this guy. Get his amazing new record for free right here.

HT: Laura Peterson