As I collect some of my thoughts regarding my trip to India (some of which I will continue to post here) I thought it would be appropriate to share the  lyrics a song that will appear on “Y,” the 3rd EP in the CMY(K) series. It’s an adaptation of the list Mahatma Gandhi made of  the traits to be the most perilous to humanity:

* Wealth without Work
* Pleasure without Conscience
* Science without Humanity
* Knowledge without Character
* Politics without Principle
* Commerce without Morality
* Worship without Sacrifice

My version goes something like this:

Lord, You know we’ve seen it
Wealth without the work
And pleasure with no conscience 
Both plagues upon the earth

We are overwhelmed; we are overcome
And yet we live in expectation

Lord you know we’ve lived it 
Religion with no cost
Worship that means nothing
Because it does not bear a cross

 We are overwhelmed; we are overcome
And yet we live in expectation

 Science with no heart
Knowledge with no character
Politics without a sense of place
And we’re selling things without a thought
For what we need
And what really cost.

We are overwhelmed; we are overcome
And yet we live in expectation 

Father, I do not understand Your world and even less when I think of the world as “Yours.”   Calling it “Yours” causes a tension in me I’ve seldom found release from.  In the one hand, I hold the knowledge that You are Good; that You are the Root of all that is good in the world.  In the other hand, I hold the heavy weight of knowledge that, among any number of other atrocities, tens of thousands of children will die before the end of today due to things that could have been averted.  This second knowledge is one I share with far more of my friends than I do the first.  It is a knowledge so prevalent as to become innocuous at times. And that is what breaks me as I try to hold both things: that something so terrible as starvation can be so fundamentally true in a world governed by Someone so fundamentally Good.

You do not relieve this tension in me.
I have asked you to. But you do not.

I have also asked for some form of certainty or clarity, even if only for the purposes of explaining You and Your Mind to others but You offer nothing remotely like the kind of answer I’m asking for.  What I have from You is what You’ve always offered; an assurance of your Presence and the challenge to let that be sufficient. You say what you have always said “Do not be afraid, I am with you.”  You offer the knowledge that, in regards to those who truly suffer, You suffer with them; that You are the God of the Cross, Who stretched his good arms out to hold together the tattered edges of the world He made and loves. I am also aware that my own only truthful response to what I’ve seen is to do as You have done; to offer my presence, to do so sacrificially and to trust it is enough.

What I see is that there is so much wrong. What You tell me is that You are Good and that You are here.  Though it honestly tears me in half sometimes, I hold both things to be true.  I am fully aware that my comfort with Truth does not make it any more or less True.  Is it enough for me that you suffer with us?  There are days when it simply is not. Yet I’m learning that it is this way with Truth; that there are times when it is clear and bright and there are times when it is cold as a stone.

I wrote a letter to you, Lord
Not unlike the one You wrote to me
Not to explain myself or anything I think
Just to tell You what I see

Which brings us to where we are now
Where I don’t know how to begin
You won’t explain Yourself to satisfy my mind
And I simply won’t give in.

They say Your love is great
But maybe they should wait
Until it’s their child dying of diseases that have cures

They say You’re faithful like the sun
I watch it rise most every day
But if I stand here still and wait here long enough
The sun will also go away

All you’ll say is…

You’ll say Your love is great
With Your body broken, Your spirit faint
For a world turned over and laid to waste
While Your people treat each other like it’s some damned game
Cuz they’re all Your children aren’t they?
Yeah, they are all Your children anyway
Yeah, they are Your kids dying of diseases that have cures.

——-

You can get this song for free at Noisetrade
You can pick up the entire EP at iTunes

I’m pretty sure I’m not going anywhere today. I mean, I’ll go for a walk with my family this morning and then across town to the studio later.  But I’m pretty sure I’m not headed anywhere celestial…

…because I’m pretty sure it’s not Judgement Day.

I’m trying to be funny.  Funny is how I deal with things like embarrassment or sadness. And I’m definitely fighting off a bit of both embarrassment and sadness today.

I’m sad for the folks who believed Harold Camping had discovered something that even Jesus said he didn’t know.  I suppose it’s not at all funny (in fact, it’s downright heartbreaking) to believe something so strongly as to be happy facing ridicule over it only to find out it was untrue.

I’m also sad for Harold Camping because, regardless of whatever good he’s done in his life, this will be the most prominent moment of his public legacy.

I’m embarrassed that such a thing gets more attention than IJM’s rescue of 500 slaves last month… More attention than the 1000 clean water wells the Blood:Water Mission recently celebrated… More attention than the hundreds of thousands of child-sponsor relationships facilitated by Compassion International and the 1-million-plus children whose lives have been dramatically changed because of those relationships.

I’m saddened and embarrassed that this stunt will color the way my faith is seen by those who already find it odd… because I think (better yet, I know) that the christian faith is made up of far more substantial stuff than this.

So, perhaps today isn’t Judgement Day the way Harold Camping thought it would be… But for those of us who haven’t quit calling ourselves ‘christians,’ (even when it means standing arm-in-arm with Camping and his sect as part of the family) it sure as hell is something very like a day of Judgement.

Today is a day when it really does cost something to say I believe in Jesus Christ.

Because believing in Jesus means believing some pretty odd things to be true. And today, many of those odd things I believe are tangled up with things that are equally odd and tragically untrue.  The challenge is to continuing believing these odd things regardless, rather than throw out all oddities from my worldview in exchange for something much safer.

These odd things I believe make me the person I am. They move me to make art.. To be a better husband and friend.. To keep working, in the name of Jesus, for the rescue of children from extreme poverty… To keep working, in the name of Jesus, for the rescue of people from slavery and indentured servitude.. To keep loving, in the name of Jesus, the actual neighbors I live among,.. To, in the paraphrased words of St. Peter “Live such a good life that, though they mock me, they would yet see my good works and glorify God.”

So even though the Judgement doesn’t show up today the way Family Radio has described it.. It has shown up the way it has for christians since the first days of our movement.  And I hope, as I am judged, right alongside brother Harold, for believing some very odd things, that I will be found faithful to the things I believe and to the person those beliefs make me into.

Harold Camping’s stunt makes my job harder. But it’s still my job and I am still honored to do it.

Here is the original video blog (vlog) I’d planned on posting before writing it out…

In light of our new addition, Amy and I have been working to book more regional events and shows.**  I was in Oakland this past weekend, speaking at a church I’ve had great history with for over a decade.  Speaking or singing with folks I am familiar with is often very freeing; That I get to be part of that peoples’ larger story.  As a storyteller, that’s pure gold.

My time with Re:Generation church on Sunday was such a time.  I was there to share a few songs and tell some stories about the work Compassion is doing in the lives of children living in poverty.  But in all honesty the best stories told on Sunday night in Oakland were not stories I told. They were stories folks shared with me or stories I was witness to that evening; stories that are part of that peoples’ larger story.

Here are 2 of them.

The first is was from a family whom I will refer to as the “Jetsons” in order to preserve their anonymity.  As their three children were growing up, the Jetsons sponsored three children through Compassion; one for each one of their children.  Among the three was a beautiful young girl from The Philippines with whom they really connected.  We will call her Judy Jetson. Judy wrote well in English which allowed the Jetson kids to really know her.  When she turned 18 years old, Judy graduated and moved on from the Compassion program.  The Jetsons hoped, as do all sponsors whose kids graduate, that her path would be made straight into a healthy and fruitful adulthood.

Years later… this year in fact,.. the youngest Jetson boy received a message over Facebook from Judy. She’s living in New Jersey and doing extremely well.  She had been searching for her Compassion family since arriving in the US and, thanks to Facebook, finally found them. She expressed her deep thanks for the years of faithfulness and wanted the Jetsons to know that her path was in fact made straight in great part because of their love and faithfullness.

The Jetsons sponsored another young girl from The Philippines Sunday night.

The second story  is about a young girl who grew up right there in Oakland.  A dancer and an athlete, this young lady (whom we will call Shakira) was struck by encephalitis just about a year and a half ago.  The past 18 months have been an emotional and physical challenge like none other for both her and for her family; grand mal seizures, loss of memory and on and on..

Sunday night was Shakira’s first evening out in a long while, since most of her seizures happen at night.  She stood at the table for a while and finally turned to her parents with a packet for a younger girl in hand, saying “I want to sponsor her.”

“You’ll have to use your allowance money” her mother warned, kindly.

“I know” Shakira said “but I’d just be spending that money on myself.”

Shakira receives $40 each month as an allowance.  Sunday night, on one of her her first nights out after months of suffering, she chose to invest $38 in the the Kingdom of God, supporting, encouraging and loving another young girl in her time of need.

These are the kinds of stories that sustain me.  Sure, I am moved by the fact that over 1 million kids have been rescued from poverty by the love and faithfulness of Compassion sponsors. But more and more, it is the new life I see in those sponsors themselves that inspires me.

If you would like to sponsor a child with Compassion International, the process is very easy, the organization is trustworthy and the sacrifice you make sincerely changes the life of a child as well as your own.  Click here to sponsor a child.

** (If you live near the SF Bay area or on the West Coast anywhere feel free to contact us here to book a show or speaking engagement.)

One year ago today I was on my way, along with my wife and several other Compassion International peeps, to Kenya and Uganda.

Once we did land in Kenya, I found that my little joke about Nashville being hotter than Africa was, in fact, accurate.  Weather in Nairobi, Kenya was hovering between the 70s and 80′s; it was quite refreshing.  In fact, my whole experience of Kenya was refreshing in every way.  Amy and I met Zablon; a young man we’ve been sponsoring for over a decade now.  We’d exchanged letters for years and had become family.  The pictures had led us to believe that he was going to be much taller than he was.  I must honestly confess that I was pleased to learn that this was not the case..

That’s right, I TOWER over my sponsored child.  Woot.

With about twenty other Compassion advocates, we journeyed to Uganda to visit several of the projects in that devastated nation.  Time and time again, I saw faces like these:

(Amy had the time of her life dancing and singing with this choir of young ladies.)

…and it was only a few days after I returned home that it struck me.. why these images and these smiles were so powerful; so life-altering.  The devastation of Uganda after years of war, oppression and political corruption was not present in these faces; what we saw in them was the confidence of hopeful and loved children whose future had been re-written; this is what the Resurrection looks like in everyday life.  This is why I love Compassion as both a sponsor and an advocate.

Consider sponsoring a child with Compassion International here.

I am honored to have guest blogged at “Inspired to Action.”  The piece is up now.  Among the many other things that make the I2A blog super-dopetastic (I’m told this is how the kids say “neat” or “good” these days), is their support of Compassion International.  Huzzah!  The blog is entitled “Tough Times and the Resurrection…. Read the blog here.  Also here…You can link to the blog here.  Or click here to read the blog.

Also here.