Mercy Street

It was a sound that shot straight through me. It was a keening cry of fear…

I had entered the grocery store to pick up a few items, but my heart and mind were preoccupied. My spirit was already raw and bleeding, and unprepared for what happened next.

A little girl, maybe seven or eight years old, was being forcibly carried/dragged through the aisle toward the exit. The mother was visibly angry…no, pissed off and embarrassed by her daughter. I have no idea just what could have happened to cause such a scene, but people nearby were frozen in their tracks, not wanting to stare but unable to turn away.

The moment was more than likely just that; a mere moment. But it felt like an eternity as mother and daughter struggled. I could see the mother forcing gritty words through gritted teeth, but I couldn’t catch their sound. There was no way to hear, as the girl’s cries drowned out everything else, literally begging…

“I’ll be good, Momma…I promise! Please don’t…please don’t!”

It was a hard sight, but a terrible sound…the sound of heartbreak, as a little girl was begging and pleading her momma for mercy.
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My hands and heart were trembling as I shuffled through the store. My mind raced back to all the times I cried out as a child, lost and lonely in seeming abandonment. To the times of seeing fists fly in rage against an elder sibling, his punishment far exceeding the crime. To the times of fear and shame for things beyond my understanding and control.

I remember all the sounds all too well…every single one.

The Easter season reminds us that the cost of mercy is paid with bruises and blood.

Her cries echoed as they neared the exit, and then faded away, replaced by bland music and in-store announcements, and the beating of my bruised and bleeding heart.

Have mercy…

“Genesis House”

The final notes rang out minutes before 11 PM. The gear is packed away, and the band and I have driven our separate ways. I’m down the road a little ways and my favorite playlist on Spotify is streaming into my ears. Yet tears stream down my cheeks as I remember the words and stories recounted tonight.

The words ring over and over in my mind. “He was hungry for my pain and suffering…
I was determined to survive.”

Right now someone is attempting to ward off blows that should never fall.

Someone is begging and pleading for it all to stop.

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Statistics were shared tonight how relatively few in number decide to survive. The rest believe they deserve whatever they receive. It’s a hell storm that they long to flee, yet fear holds them hostage. They convince themselves it’s not the abuser who is wrong, but it’s them. Somehow they have failed and are worthless…yet worthy of any punishment rained upon them.

Father, protect your children tonight. Give courage where fear reigns. Give strength to the weak, and let your mercy flow…

“God… Shape a genesis week from the chaos of my life.”
Psalm 51:10 The Message

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“Time”

And then one day you find
Ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run
You missed the starting gun’

-Pink Floyd “Time”

I woke up this morning to find a message in my inbox from a music biz friend. He was wishing me a happy work anniversary.

Since I had left my job back in Birmingham in 2005, I was a bit mystified. Upon closer examination (I read the email) I saw where it’s the tenth anniversary of the launch of Project Onefifty.

For those of you new to the program, P150 is the music missions non-profit ministry we began in Birmingham in 2004 after a tour of Italy and Switzerland.

Ten years gone. Hard to believe. But when I look in the mirror and see the streaks of grey in my hair…and the lines in my face, reality hits.

From the beginning Project Onefifty was to be the musical proclamation of Psalm 150:6, “let everything with breath praise The Lord.”

It is a story too long to tell how P150 migrated from Birmingham, Alabama to the outskirts of Nashville, Tennessee. There are many tales to tell indeed…

Ten years is a long time and a perfect time to look back. I can say that we never really became what I thought we were supposed to be. But instead we did apparently what God intended.

In ten years we played to folks all around the world. We partnered with other missions groups to sing the Good News in Ireland and Japan and Oman. We played coffee shops and churches and retreats and house concerts back home in the US.

We helped orphans in Africa learn that ‘Grace brings Good News,’ and contributed ‘Hope’ to disaster relief when the fury of storms ravaged the Gulf.

In the strangest turn, the song “I Will Trust in You” was published world-wide by LifeWay to teach kids about missions and how God is trustworthy.

Our music literally reaches around the world.

Please forgive me if it appears that I am boasting. I am not. I am just as shocked by all this as you, if not more so.

I am grateful to all the people who have supported this dream and helped make it a reality.

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It is time for changes for Project Onefifty. While there are still projects that can be achieved no other way than through P150, there are some places and projects that require a new vision and a new way.

I haven’t got a clue about what’s next.

All I know is that the times are a’changing, and things that live and grow change along with the times.

Change is not easy. It’s difficult and terrifying. But needed and necessary.

In the coming weeks and months, this new way will have made itself known and we will certainly shout from the rooftops when we figure it out.

I’ll end with a brief story. In the days before P150 I found myself in New Orleans with my church worship team. I was the tech director and we had come to the Baptist seminary to lead worship during their daily chapel services.

At that point in my life I had all but given up playing. Church tech work is a consuming fire and I was crispy on both sides.

During our off time, we made our way to Bourbon Street. Let me go on record that I LOVE N’awlins. It is a place rich in history and culture, and unlike any place on the planet.

I ducked into one of the many music joints when I heard the most terrifying sound. A guy was playing a blues so dangerous and electric…I could not help but fall under it’s spell.

On that day a fire long-dead burst into flames. I wanted to play again. I wanted to feel the fiery wash of sound from a too-loud amplifier. I wanted to coax tender notes from a steel-strung acoustic. I wanted the power and joy that is music to be front and center in my life.

The trip came and went and I reverted to the status quo of church music.

But I never forgot the blue fire of a guitarist in a nasty club on Bourbon Street.

Anointing is not exclusive to the house of God. I felt it wash over me in that club. And I’ve felt it a few times since.

God, send me the fire again. I want to be immolated in the sound of Holy Spirit blowing like the wind through hearts of cold stone like mine.

“Let everything with breath Praise The Lord”
Psalm 56:3

“OneWord for 2014: A New Thing”

“For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” (Isaiah 43:19 NLT)

Happy New Year! Please welcome 2014! Out with the old…in with the new! It’s time to make resolutions and plans and exercise programs and budgets and daily readings and goals…I could go on and on and…

Well, you get the picture.

I have been as guilty as you and the rest of humanity regarding ‘new years’ and the plans to make the coming days better than the past ones. But in the last throes of 2013 as I thought and prayed for direction for the coming year, I began to experience a growing sense of dissatisfaction. The old system of resolving to ‘be better’ just hasn’t worked. At. All. It was time for a change.

A new thing…

The previous year was perhaps the most difficult one I’ve ever experienced. So many challenges…I’ll not even attempt to describe the highs and lows. There were many of both, and all the moments in between. But perhaps I can at least clue you in by using the ‘motto’ of my music ministry, Project Onefifty.

If you know me, then you know I dislike the way believers throw around vaunted theological language, especially with people who don’t know Christ. So I resolved long ago to try to use English instead of ‘Christianese’ terms and expressions. When I thought of the work God does in our lives, it seemed to break down into three distinct areas of revelation, redemption, and restoration. I translate them thusly:

Reveal. Redeem. Restore.

I’ll spare you the Sunday School lesson. The important point is that the past year has been these very words made manifest.

It’s been a season of revelations. Not only from God…but He’s revealed things about me and my heart long hidden or ignored by yours truly.

It has not been a fun process. But it has been illuminating…

Along with these difficult moments of revelation, something incredible happened. Redemption! God has extended Grace and Mercy and Love in such vast quantities as to overwhelm my heart. I’m truly thankful for the mercy of forgiveness and the grace that’s been given.

God works miracles and God forgives falls and failures. This past year has seen many. But what preachers don’t always tell you is that some miracles take a long time.

Especially when it comes to part three of the process. Restoration.

All this is just preamble to my One Word for 2014. I’m wrapping up, I promise!

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The past year was filled with revelation. I found out just how broken my heart is…how much it needs healing. I lack the courage oftentimes to own the truth of my feelings and fears and the choices I make.

I dance around my own heart like some kind of damaged diplomat. As if emotional détente will heal my broken spirit and create worth from worthlessness.

These revelations have impacted every facet of my life. But the unexpected redemption by God’s own hand is nothing less than miraculous. So undeserving of this grace, but I am so very very thankful.

But I want…no, need the many mistakes to be made right. I need more than revelation and redemption, however miraculous. I need restoration…in every aforementioned facet. My very spirit requires it.

Restore…

It may be the hardest word ever lived.

But it’s the word that I cannot seem to escape. I can’t settle for anything less than whatever it is God has planned…despite my every effort to seemingly screw it up. I’ll be honest in that choosing this word terrifies me. Because I’ve made every effort to avoid it and run. It’s almost as if this word has chosen me.

So God help me this year…

Father, I thank you for the gift of this day, and the gift of restoration…guide me, Holy Spirit along each step in this path…Jesus, thank you for your Love and Mercy.

Welcome to 2014…a new thing: the Year of Restoration.

GV

Reveal•Redeem•Restore…God is still doing all three

Link to OneWord 365 here