Recommending new Mercy Me

Different kind of post today – a brief review of Mercy Me’s latest record, Welcome To The New. At first listen, I didn’t really like it- it was too different than all – and I do mean all – other worship music in style and … Tone is the only word I can think of. 

But, after some time with it, I’ve changed that opinion. This is brilliant. Pure power pop, with an incredible array of musical genres. The songs are produced and arranged like “real” secular hits but incredibly, through the lyrics, maintain with no doubts the reverence of the deep subject matter: the Good News. 

I highly recommend this record!

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Unmet – Yet

Sometimes I really do wish there was a way things in life could be ‘unmet’. As in undone. A do-over with an alternate path taken, or an event avoided. This is usually because of something that was ‘unmet’ in the first place – something that never, in fact, did happen. Isn’t it funny how the same word can be used to express completely opposite ideas.

The official definition of unmet is ‘(of a requirement) not achieved or fulfilled.’ That’s it. There’s no second meaning for going back and ‘un-meeting’ someone or something. For changing what is. The word speaks to that which never was.

Yet.

‘Yet’ because that’s how we humans are. It’s our default way of seeing things. It’s intrinsic. And another word that gives the same feeling as ‘yet’ is hope. Eternal optimism. We all have it – hold it. Cling to it. Otherwise, why would we not just quit? Just turn off the movie and go to bed. Admit it. You really do want to see how your show ends. Deep down, you believe that the ending will be all right.

“Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them.” -Aragorn

Yes, I know. Everyday some of us do give up. Check out. Turn life’s TV off. But most of us just retreat for the night with full intent to come out fighting in the morning. Even when the odds are totally against us, and “the fortress is taken”, there’s a manner in which we can go out. Fighting. Go down swinging. We just can’t do nothing.

“But I’m gonna try and give a little hope to you.
There’s a light at the end of this tunnel.” – Third Day, Tunnel

My morning readings spoke to me about this. About hope. About keeping going, despite the times when things look bleak. Washed out. Washed away. Drained. Not coincidentally, this is often how I feel after a hemodialysis treatment. Physically empty. I have to be reminded that this is the step I have to take to shake off the bad stuff. I have to tell myself that I have to have dialysis in order to live on.

“Moods are nearly always rooted in some physical circumstance, not in our true inner self. It is a continual struggle not to listen to [them]. We have to pick ourselves up by the back of the neck and shake ourselves; then we will find that we can do what we believed we were unable to do.” – Oswald Chambers

“…when the temporary joys of this world are taken from us, we’re reminded that earth is not our home. … Trials remind us that our paradise is elsewhere, with our Lord… There will be no unmet desires in heaven because our Lord will satisfy all our longings. He’ll abolish pain and pour his grace out on us forever.” – Trip Lee “Risen”

“God still works through and in spite of people… doing dumb things… [He’s] doing great things!” – Erik Raymond

Each day, these spiritual things I read all relate to one another – or I should say, there is some common theme that I find in everything I read. That is God speaking to me. His whisper. And he’s been prompting me to get beyond “me me me” and my pitiful situation, which can seem untenable, unwinnable, and reach out to share with others. To show what can be gotten through. What he can bring someone, anyone through.

Luke 21:19 ERV
You will save yourselves by continuing in your faith through all these things.

:13 But this will give you an opportunity to tell about me.

…To Bring Comfort Where There Must Be Loss…

For our present troubles are small and won’t last long, yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and that will last forever! 2 Cor 4:17

Heavenly Father, Creator God, for whom nothing is impossible. Lord, this morning the health of others is on my mind: B, B and family, M, R’s dad, to name a few. We humans don’t like the thought of death or even sickness, even though they are both sure to happen to us – the former especially as the final event in this life for every one of us. I think the the real thing we feel, Father, is fear. Some of us fear the manner of our own end. But many fear the loss of companionship of someone dear. Abandonment, of a sort. This fear, Lord, is rooted in believing there is nothing after this life. But your children sincerely work at believing, however, that the death of this body is just a release, a doorway home to eternity with you, Father God, our maker.

How can this be frightening!? It is the removal of all the bad and sad things of this world! It is the reunion with those who have simply left before us.

Lord, I thank you for this new day you have given me. I thank you for the opportunity to be a source of comfort for those who must deal with loss – of any kind, but especially of someone closer.

In Jesus’ life-returning name…

In every joy-filled moment of this day you have made…