How to cultivate an appetite for Jesus

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Growing up in Roseburg, Oregon in 1989, all the cool kids shopped at the Gap store in Eugene. It’s an hour drive. And on some weekends, when I got to go shopping with my friends we would all plan to shop at the Gap and eat at Cinnabon. The aroma of those heavy, buttery, sweet cinnamon rolls was intoxicating then, and it still is. There really is no comparison to Cinnabon for me. I’ve tasted and I’ve seen that Cinnabon is good and there is no other cinnamon roll that will do.

That level of craving, of tasting Cinnabons and wanting more does not compare to the taste of and craving for the goodness of Jesus. I know it feels like a drop off doesn’t it. We all know the intoxicating taste of hot, melting-with-butter-and-frosting cinnamon rolls, but Jesus? How do you taste and crave Jesus?

The Bible calls us to, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” (Psalm 34:8) The only way we can taste and see the goodness of the Lord is to be feeding on his word (1 Peter 2:2), joining our lives with his people (1 John 1:3), and praying fervently as we go (Psalm 69:13). And if I’m sensing my own condition and the state of many in my life correctly we’ve lost our appetite for tasting the goodness of the Lord Jesus this way.

There are times I need to push reset on my eating habbits. I need to eat clean so I can enjoy the goodnes of good things once again. When I’ve been indulging in junk food and fast food my body feels it, and I have a diminished desire for what’s actually good for me and want to eat more french fries.  I’ve found my relationship with Christ to be similar. Sometimes I need to intentionally stop filling my mind with podcasts, music, my favorite movies, or busying myself with Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and reading blogs or books, and fill the empty, uncomfortable space I find when I do that with God’s word and prayer.  That’s the only way I can cleanse my spiritual pallete. It’s the only way I can grow my appetite and affections for Jesus.

Today in a leadership meeting at my church we talked about the need to return to our first love Jesus, to return to fervent and effective prayer, to remember the gospel and stir our affections for Jesus and all he’s done for us. It hit me that I have to repent often of not valuing what Jesus has done, and valuing something else in his place. The barrier keeping me from passionate love of God and others, fervent prayer and a worshipful heart is my constant and often unconscious tendency to think, “Yeah, Jesus is great, but I want ____________.”  I’ve filled that blank with so many things over the years. They’ve all dulled my appetite for God’s word and the goodness of the Lord.

Do you have a craving for knowing Jesus more? For being with him, going where he’s going, being made like him? Do you find like me that you’re often lacking in desire or appetite for Jesus and sort of, “meh” the thought of him?  Join me in repenting. Join me in turning away from the things that have dulled our appetites for Jesus. And join me in returning to a steady diet of God’s word and prayer to regain a craving for God that’s fitting. Surely he is even more wonderful than a Cinnabon.

A return to feeding on the word of God, praying as we read, talking and listening, casting cares and asking questions, chewing like cud again and again what God has revealed to us of himself in Jesus through the Bible and his church is the hard reset button we need to push on our spiritual diet.

C.S. Lewis described our condition this way:

“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” – The Weight of Glory

Lord, forgive me for dulling my appetite for you with “mud pies.” Thank you for your mercy and grace provided me in Christ. I want to crave you more than Cinnabon, more than spacing out, or vegging out, or detaching, or escaping, or wine, or chocolate, or surfing social media, or anything. I want to love you with all my heart and love my neighbor as myself.  Let me taste and see that you’re good again and again! 

Sunday Thoughts

I want to be a better writer.   I’ve decided to challenge myself to a series of writing prompts, which I plan to post here.
Writing for me is a way to digest life.  Reading what others have written is like going out to dinner.  Journaling is like making my own meal.  Writing publicly on a blog is like having everyone over for dinner.  I want to have my own food truck/catering biz- freelance?  And maybe even my own little hole in the wall restaurant- book?  If I am going to reach those goals I need to sharpen my culinary, uh-hem, writing skills.  No more margarine.  Time for real butter.   Maybe the challenge of writing prompts will help me refine my menu.

Today at Valley Life Church Surprise, the guy who leads the team that helps people get connected at the church, Michael, preached about the second commandment from Exodus 20. 
It always hits me when I’m at church how strange we are.  We Christians.  I mean what we do on any given Sunday in most Christian church gatherings.  We sit and listen to someone proclaim truths gleaned out of reading a book that is thousands of years old.  Our souls sing… hence for many raised hands, eyes closed, tears flow.  We sing songs about God’s sovereignty and power and grace and love and we sing amazed.  We eat bread and drink juice and remember Christ’s sacrifice.  We confess our sins and weep over them and rejoice at forgiveness and the help we find in the scriptures and each other.   I mean, I don’t know first hand what happens in gatherings of Muslims or Hindus or Buddhists, but from what I read and hear, these religious gatherings are more like corporate prayers. Memorized prayers and chants.  But not adoration in singing and proclamation of God’s self-sacrificing, heart-changing love.  And for the irr-religious, its even more weird what we do.  A morning spent singing songs of praise to the unseen God for an act done in history 2000 plus years ago that has changed the course of life for a millions of people from the inside out, causing them to no longer live for themselves but for the One who died for them?  Why?  Why not just clean the garage.  Or binge on Netflix.  Or work on your golf game.  Why do all that stuff?
Listening today to the comparison between the God of Israel and the multiple gods of the peoples Israel lived amongst (and got entangled with) I realized thousands of years may have passed, but the God of the Bible and his people still stand out in a world full of idols as different.  And we still get entangled in idol worship.  John’s closing sentence at the end of 1 John is a relevant and needed message that we shouldn’t pass so easily over:  Little children, keep yourselves from idols.  
The God of the Bible wants all of me.  My heart.  My affections.  My love.  He has given himself to me in covenant love.  No easy access idol that makes me feel good about myself for a little while should ever get between God and I.  
I start my online Introductory Algebra class on Tuesday.  I have no idea how this will work, but I am anticipating lots of hair pulling and frustrated Facebook posts.  Hopefully at the end of summer I can test into the math I need to get into the BSN program.  
Math is my nemesis. 

Let Down by God?

This past Sunday I stood in a high school theatre with dozens of people I don’t know looking up at the screen where the band was projecting the words to the songs we were singing to God:

You’re never gonna let
Never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let
Never gonna let me down

When I get to church, the words of every song we sing confront me.  And I hang on every word preached.  I can’t mindlessly sing the songs.  I can’t snooze through the sermon.  I’m too desperate.  I’m too thirsty.

So when the words to King of My Heart were on the screen Sunday, and I was singing with hot tears, “You are good.”  I really meant it.  I really believe Jesus is God and He is good!  But when the words “You’re never gonna let, never gonna let me down,” came on the screen I stopped singing.  I stood there with heart exposed to the Holy Spirit’s searching work and I knew I could not sing those words with honesty.  Instead I uttered a prayer, “Father you know me.  You know I can’t sing that.  I confess I feel like you have let me down. But I know you are good. Help me to know you for who you really are.”

I think I have a pretty good understanding of the God of the Bible.   I say that with much hesitation.  What I know is a glimpse, a taste of an infinity of truth.  I’ll spend eternity never exhausting knowing God.  But I have been very blessed to have been taught by some great Bible teachers and mentors in the faith.  I’ve spent many hours chewing on the Bible.  I believe the Jesus I have never seen but love as revealed in the scriptures is the one and only God-Man, the Christ.  My creed is the creed Christ’s historic and worldwide church has believed and proclaimed for thousands of years.  So when I read words like the words written in the song we sang on Sunday I realize something is amiss.  Either something’s wrong with me and my understanding of the God of the Bible or something’s wrong with those words cause I can think of 23 years of prayers unanswered that have left me feeling like God has let me down.

I’m not alone in my honest conflict with the words, “You’re never gonna let me down.”

Throughout the Bible God’s people have had to come face to face with the incongruence of the Sovereign God they believe in and the circumstances in their life.

Job had to reconcile the horror he was living through with the God he proclaimed.  He felt the sovereignty of God in his boils and said, “Though he slay me, I will hope in him; yet I will argue my ways to his face.” Job 13:15

Moses questioned God when he had obediently confronted Pharaoh and was mocked and blamed for making the people he was sent by God to free work harder.  “Then Moses turned to the Lord and said, “O Lord, why have you done evil to this people? Why did you ever send me? For since I came to Pharaoh to speak in your name, he has done evil to this people, and you have not delivered your people at all.” – Exodus 5:22

Noemi said it was God who had emptied her.  “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?” Ruth 1:20-21

Even John the Baptist, who had looked at Jesus and declared, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!” found himself in prison and sent messengers to Jesus to ask if was really the Messiah they were all waiting for.

And there are many, many more examples.

Blessed are the un-offended

When John questioned Jesus’ identity, Jesus’ response was to point out all that he was doing.  And then he added, “Blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”


Was I offended at Jesus in the words, “You’re never gonna let me down?”  Was I offended that Jesus had let me down by not answering my prayer the way I wanted?

The word offended sounds like scandalized in the language Jesus spoke it. skandalizō.

Blessed is the one who isn’t scandalized by me.

It means to be caused to stumble.  To be caused to distrust the person you should trust.

Jesus is not a soft, yes man, who makes you feel good with positive affirmations.  Jesus is the rock that many stumble over and are offended by.  I stumbled over him on Sunday.  And like Job, Moses, Noemi, David and John the Baptist I have a choice: leave him offended or let the mountain of truth that he is be to me a shadow in which to hide, a rock of refuge to which I flee.

Who Else Is There?

Peter and the other ragamuffin disciples of Christ tripped over him too.  When Christ offered the saving truth that he had come to suffer and die broken, like bread, people were offended.  Those who had thought Jesus was there to feed their appetites in the form of miraculous power couldn’t accept the idea that he had come to give life to their perishing souls in the form of a wrath-bearing substitutionary atoning sacrifice.  When Jesus saw the offended folks leave he asked his chosen ones, “Are you going to leave too?”  Peter- I love Peter, quick to speak and quick to trip and quick to fall Peter- opened his mouth and said words I say to Jesus not infrequently, “Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of life. And we believe and have come to know that you are the Holy One of God”

Coming face to face with the reality of who Christ really is, is something we all must and will do.  What we do with who he is is the test of who we really are.

The blessed, oh how happy ones, sorrowful yet always rejoicing, are the ones who look at his sovereignty in his willing brokenness and risen power and say with Job, “Though he slay me, I will hope in him.”  We feel let down, but we look up and we hope in him.  We believe and have come to know he is the only one with the words of life.  We know there is no where else to go.  We see his scars.  And we hear his risen promise to dwell in us and with us and we aren’t offended.  We love him.  We want him.  By his good grace we won’t leave him.

Christmas madness?

I did some copying work for my 5th grader’s teachers today, and then ate lunch with both my boys. On my way out the building a woman who has worked as a crossing guard there for a long time greeted me and threw in, “All the Christmas madness got to you yet?”

My response was, “No.  Actually, there is no Christmas madness in my house at all!”  She looked at me a little surprised.  Maybe she thought I was one of those religious people that doesn’t celebrate holidays, or maybe I was just a scrooge.

Actually, Christmas is a very sacred and happy time in my house.  I love Christmas!”  She gave me a look of curious acceptance with eyebrows raised and bid me a good day.

Christmas is the beginning of Easter for me.  It’s the beginning of an exceedingly special time of celebrating the meaning, the goal, the redemption..the story of life.

I was raised in a church system that threw the baby of worship out with the dirty bathwater of meaningless rituals.  No doubt, worship happens, or can happen on any day, at any time of the day, not just on special days or holidays or Sundays or quiet times of “devotion”.  Just the same, setting aside the “normal” things of life that can be (and oh that they would be) worship-filled, to observe a tradition or ritual or ceremony or dedicated, special activity which focuses one’s attention on the beauty and truth of Christ is equally right and good and, I say, needed for a vibrant relationship with the living God.

My dad was not one to really celebrate any holiday growing up.  I understand, he was a broke log-truck driver with a family of 5 to feed.  Couldn’t see much use in spending money on Christmas “stuff” and un-needed toys when there was concern about where the money for the groceries would come from during the layoff season in winter.  His logic and duty-driven work ethic permeates my thinking today, and I thank him for the help it gives me in not being attached to stuff.  But when it comes to worship- the expression of adoration of God with my life- duty is a blasphemous kill-joy and relationship killer. And logic does not negate the need for celebratory worship, if anything, logic demands it.  The most logical thing I could do in light of the wonders of the living God is celebrate him with my life, on special days and every day.

I’m reading Desiring God right now and Piper is expressing for me something I have not known how to express:

If I take my wife out for the evening on our anniversary and she asks me, “Why do you do this?” the answer that honors her most is, “Because nothing makes me happier tonight that to be with you.”  

“It’s my duty” is a dishonor to her.
“It’s my joy” is an honor.

There it is!… How shall we honor God in worship?  By saying, “It’s my duty”?  Or by saying, “It’s my joy”? –Desiring God, Revised Edition: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist 

For me, Christmas is not materialistic, nor is it a distraction from celebrating the substitutionary atoning death, and eternal-life guaranteeing resurrection of my Lord.  For me it’s not a time to be logically persuaded that Christ was not born on Christmas day and therefore should not be celebrated on Christmas day, or that Christmas has its origins in paganism and therefore should be abominated.  It’s not a time for me to do my duty and put up a tree and buy presents and go to church either.

For me, Christmas is a happy, dedicated season of celebrating and remembering and meditating on Christ- God incarnate for me and for His glory.   It is rich with meaning.  My senses get to take in a foretaste of what I feel when I read or speak the word glory.  I feel something.  I feel a glad expression of joy and awe at the condescension of God for me.  I want to put up lights and think on the Light of the World.  I want to smell the evergreens and inhale a hint of the beauty of the fragrance of the life of Christ.  I want to sing the songs and dance around my house and smile and scheme of giving gifts that will bring joy and revel in the wonder that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us so that he could take the trail to the tree and absorb the wrath aimed at me.

When I celebrate the birth of my son two days after Christmas I don’t do it out of duty or despise it because it’s illogical to eat cake and blow out candles.  I delight in throwing a party for my son being born.  Should I delight any less to celebrate the incarnation of God, my Savior; a son, not just for Mary, but for me, even me?

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. – Isaiah 9:6



(Pics from last year’s Oregon trip)

We spent almost the entire day at the new house but never managed to see much of each other. The boys were out on the back half of the acre most of the day either digging for treasure, shooting at ant hills with the BB gun, or chasing each other with water guns. James worked on pulling out the old sump pump from the basement and getting a new water softener and water heater from someone on Craigslist while I did the only thing I’m comfortable with in buying a fixer-upper… clean, and played gopher for James when he was at Lowe’s and needed me to measure the pipe sticking up out of the sewage ejector pump and get the model number off the corroded thing. I plugged my nose and did my best. Ugh. I can’t imagine working in the sewage business. Yuck!

 Bailey, our black lab, wore herself out chasing a squirrel and sniffing for cottontail bunnies.

 By the time we got home all my normal Saturday energies were spent, but I haven’t even begun to do the normal stuff that needs to get done on a Saturday around the house we’re still living in. I have a lot to do this week if I’m going to head to Oregon on the 8th.  Monday, after work, I take my physical and do all the HR stuff with Phoenix Baptist hospital. I start orientation on June 24th. Tuesday evening we have the end-of-season baseball party at a laser tag place. Wednesday is my last day at my school nurse job and I get to pick up a friend at the airport. Thursday and Friday will be preparing to leave Saturday for the long drive to Redding, CA to stay with my sister.

I look forward to these trips to Nor Cal and Oregon every year!  But I think my boys enjoy it even more.  They’re yearly calendar seems to revolve around this trip.  They mention it throughout the school year with longing.  And as we get to summer, daily they ask, “When are we leaving for our trip to Oregon?”  They love the early morning wake-up the day we start out on our road-trip.  They anticipate it.  They know good times are comin’!

It’s like that as a Christian.  Our calendar is built around the celebration of Christ.  And life is a pilgrimage and we move through our full days, change of addresses and daily tasks longing for those times when we get to come together and revel in the promises, and tell the Old, Old Story, and rejoice in the gift of Christ, and love one another and Him together, and anticipate the day of the consummation of our longing.

A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem. A psalm of David. I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the LORD.” -Psalm 122:1

And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children,  including the new bodies he has promised us.  -Romans 8:24



All the way!

He leads me… even when I walk thru the dark valley of death… -Psalm 23:2b,4a

I just left the city pool where I watched my youngest take his swimming lesson. Two bleacher sets down, my estranged husband sat with my oldest.

We’ve been separated for over a year after 16 years of marriage and 5 years of reconciliation.

As I sat there in the blistering heat, tears flowed mixing with the sweat on my face. I looked up in the cloudy, hot sky and said in my heart, “Do you see me my Lord? Do you see how much I’m hurting?!!”

Five years ago my heart was full of enthusiasm to forgive and love… to let Christ be seen in me by my husband as I set out to just get behind him, “wash his feet”, and be a blessing. It was my joy to just be home, and simply be a wife and mom! I felt it was my crown not just my duty. Jesus had loved me that way and I wanted to love my husband and kids that way!

But when this honor that I treasured and enjoyed so much was ripped from me I felt like Job:

He has stripped me of my glory, and taken the crown from my head! -Job 19:9 NLT

God gave me a crown, just like He gave Job. He gave us the everyday blessings of family and home, which we enjoyed and dedicated to God. We were content to bless God and others. We loved the Lord’s love and set out to follow Him. But the very thing we were honored to do was taken from us. And we were left grieving.

But like Job, God has lifted my head and challenged me in my depression. He has reminded me that He is trying me and when I come forth I shall be as gold! He has reproved me and showed me that He knows what He’s doing. He’s leading me… EVEN thru the valley of the shadow of death. Yes He led me thru green pastures. Yes He led me beside still waters. But now He leads me thru the valley of the shadow of death and to a banquet table of His mercy and grace even while my enemies look on and point fingers!

As I was coming home from that painful swimming lesson the sweet Spirit of Comfort put a song in my heart. An old hymn.

All The Way My Savior Leads Me

by Frances J. Crosby 1875

All the way my Savior leads me,
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who through life has been my Guide?

Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.

All the way my Savior leads me,
Cheers each winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for every trial,
Feeds me with the living Bread.

Though my weary steps may falter
And my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see;
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see.

All the way my Savior leads me,
Oh, the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised
In my Father’s house above.

When my spirit, clothed immortal,
Wings its flight to realms of day
This my song through endless ages:
Jesus led me all the way;
This my song through endless ages:
Jesus led me all the way

I began singing and something sweet, something more wonderful than my “crown” filled my soul! A joy in willingly trusting ALL to Jesus. An indescribable joy. As I sang I felt the tender love which binds me with my Saviour. Who I know I will one day see, Who makes all this worth it!

Just in case you feel stripped of some God-given joy, you may want to stop and sing right now too:

Isaiah 51:3

Meditations on Nothing but the Blood of Jesus

Tonight I sang, “What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus… Oh precious is the flow that makes me white as snow. No other fount I know. Nothing but the blood of Jesus.”

So much in those words. In times past the celebration of the fact that it’s Jesus’ blood, not my “blood,sweat and tears”, but Jesus blood and His alone that can wash away my sins floods my soul. At other times, rest in the simpleness of it being Jesus plus NOTHING, which makes me right in God’s eyes, fills me with peace. But tonight I was compelled while I sang. An argument against all accusations of being legalistic or too idealistic, or too extreme in my convictions filled me.

My heart was shouting, “It’s too precious! His blood is too precious! I can’t just flippantly do what I desire without any regard to what God says or take some of God’s ways and leave behind the others that make me feel uncomfortable or restrained. Jesus’ blood is too precious! I can’t wink at sin or laugh at it or cozy up next to it… Jesus died for it. Don’t you realize NOTHING but the blood of Jesus can wash away my sin!? It takes blood, precious blood, blood from the only pure, perfect, loving, kind One. It cost too much to just do whatever I want to do. It’s not that I am trying to earn His favor, it’s that He has suffered so much and shown me so much favor… how could I walk all over His grace and sacrifice like that?! The answer to why I do what I do or don’t do what I don’t do is, ‘Jesus suffered, bled and died a cruel death for you and me… that’s why!’ “

There’s seems to be a disconnect about works vs. faith when it comes to salvation. But if I just focus on the road of suffering Jesus took up to save me, all of those confusing arguments fall apart. The truth is NOTHING but the blood of Jesus can wash away my sins, therefore I’ll never be able to walk through this life indulging my flesh and making excuses for my sin… there’s too much precious, holy, blood that has been spilled to wash me clean of all those ways.

I can’t wink at. I can’t be entertained by it. I can’t approve of those who practice it. I can only soberly stand on the truth that those ways cost Jesus spit in His face, a beard violently pulled out, gruesome tears of flesh all over His body, mockery amidst cardiopulmonary explosion, terrors of pain, and most of all the rejection from His Father; all while His precious blood flowed to save you and me.

When I sang “What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the blood of Jesus!” tonight, I declared why I can’t live like my flesh desires. I am not my own. A heavy price was paid for me. It’s that expensive grace which saves me. And it’s that freely poured out grace which compels me to flee youthful lusts and obey the ways of God. I don’t want to mock the blood of Jesus. I don’t want to trample under foot His precious blood while I walk towards the fleeting pleasures of what He has declared as sin.

“What can wash away my sins?” isn’t just a catchy old gospel hymn. It’s the self-sacrificing call of Love on my life to live out the holiness purchased for me. It’s a cause to be grieved with God over sin, not to poopoo it. It’s a cause to intercede for those in sin and to cover it with self-sacrificing love. Love that would suffer to speak truth and impart grace. It’s the price tag on my life.

So, friends, we can now—without hesitation—walk right up to God, into “the Holy Place.” Jesus has cleared the way by the blood of his sacrifice, acting as our priest before God. The “curtain” into God’s presence is his body. So let’s do it—full of belief, confident that we’re presentable inside and out. Let’s keep a firm grip on the promises that keep us going. He always keeps his word. Let’s see how inventive we can be in encouraging love and helping out, not avoiding worshiping together as some do but spurring each other on, especially as we see the big Day approaching.

If we give up and turn our backs on all we’ve learned, all we’ve been given, all the truth we now know, we repudiate Christ’s sacrifice and are left on our own to face the Judgment—and a mighty fierce judgment it will be! If the penalty for breaking the law of Moses is physical death, what do you think will happen if you turn on God’s Son, spit on the sacrifice that made you whole, and insult this most gracious Spirit? This is no light matter. – Hebrews 10:19-31 The Message paraphrase

He loves us too much! He paid too much! I don’t want to insult His sacrifice. Oh let me live in that pure fear of God. Not fear of punishment, but fear of trampling on His grace. Not fear of not being good enough. Fear of not responding with my life to His goodness.

Isaiah 51:3

What do I know of Holy

I made You promises a thousand times
I tried to hear from Heaven
But I talked the whole time
I think I made You too small
I never feared You at all No
If You touched my face would I know You?
Looked into my eyes could I behold You?

What do I know of You
Who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood
But the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know? What do I know of Holy?

I guess I thought that I had figured You out
I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about
How You were mighty to save
Those were only empty words on a page
Then I caught a glimpse of who You might be
The slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees

What do I know of You
Who spoke me into motion?
Find More lyrics at
Where have I even stood
But the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know? What do I know of Holy?

What do I know of Holy?
What do I know of wounds that will heal my shame?
And a God who gave life “its” name?
What do I know of Holy?
Of the One who the angels praise?
All creation knows Your name
On earth and heaven above
What do I know of this love?

– Addison Road

Let me get the slightest glimpse to bring me to my knees again You who are Holy!

Isaiah 51:3

The Only Hope

The Only Hope – Bebo Norman

I want to run, it’s my nature to run
And I want to fight, it’s my nature to fight
And I want to live, but you tell me to die
I have resolved that I’m much better off
In your hands than mine

I’m begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to take my life from me
I want a crumb, but you are a feast
I want a song, but you are a symphony
I want a star, but your a galaxy

And I have resolved that I’m much better off
In what you have for me
I’m begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to take my life from me
So tell me you won’t let go
Tell me you won’t let go
Cause you are the only hope for me
Take my life from me, It’s the only hope for me
Take my life from me, It’s the only hope for me
And I’ll never want for more
I’ll never want for more

I’m begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to hold on tight
Begging you to take my life from me

So tell me you won’t let go
Tell me you won’t let go
Cause your the only hope for me
You’re the only hope for me
Yeah, your the only hope for me

Bebo wrote that song for me!!!

So glad He found me ,

Isaiah 51:3

I sing this song a lot… I’m singing it tonight

Good To Me
by Craig Musseau

I cry out
For your hand of mercy to heal me
I am weak
I need your love to free me

O Lord, my rock
My strength in weakness
Come rescue me oh Lord

You are my hope
Your promise never fails me
And my desire
Is to follow you forever

For you are good
For you are good
For you are good to me
For you are good
For you are good
For you are good to me

Isaiah 51:3