What is Possible

The band storage room was the dirtiest place I knew on earth. Its original carpet was synthetic umber single-ply laid over stained concrete and committed to slow suicide by unraveling. They replaced it, while I was there, with a deep dark blue, the short pile of which had not yet bowed in shame at the things it would see—Oh, the things it would see.

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Created for Worship

Over this last year I have found myself grumbling more than usual. I have always had a cup half-full personality. Yet, I became lost in the mundane tasks of life. We all know it, house cleaning, laundry and trips to the grocery store. Necessary tasks that we can’t ignore to keep our homes running began to dig into me. I found myself growing increasingly frustrated about being a slave to these tasks. I started to despise them and dread them. It was a negative mindset I had created for myself. Through some quiet time I was led back to some old notes I had taken while listening to a podcast. I didn’t write down the speaker but it clearly punched me in the gut then, and without a doubt I needed the reminder.  I needed to be reminded that I was created to worship. Now first let me say that I always associated worship with music. But my heart was stirred to a deeper level of worship for our heavenly Father than just pelting out words from my mouth. Worship, I realized, was and is based on His worth and it is our opportunity to value God for who He Is in the midst of everyday life.

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Every Morning Coffee: a review of Every Moment Holy

The holiday season passed with a flurry of shredded wrapping paper, sugar comas, and age-old family traditions. A shiny new year with infinite possibilities and opportunities is spread before us like a banquet. A whole new year, when we can finally do all those things we promise ourselves we are going to do each and every new year, for which we never manage to find the time, of course.

I’m not one of those folks who puts together yearly resolutions I intend to follow through with. It’s simply not my nature. There are times that I do envy those who think that way, but those moments are rare. I enjoy the days as they come, knowing that each day is similar to the last. I have my morning ritual: start the kettle, grind the coffee, fill the French press, wait four minutes then call out “Plunger Boy!” My five-year-old son’s morning is thrown completely out of whack if he doesn’t push the plunger on the French press. Then I go to my office and read the news. All of us have similar rituals, even if they aren’t coffee related.

At the core of what it means to be human is an inherent desire to have order and intentionality in our lives. 

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