Not your grandma’s sandcastles. Assuming your grandma was into sandcastles.

Check it out.

 

When I see these kind of things, I always think, “Too much time”.

However, I also think, “Awesome.”

 

They’ve done it again.

 

This is what happens when you give thousands of stickers to thousands of kids…

 

5 people, 1 guitar. Uh-mazing.

 

Got patience? You’d need it.

(Thanks to @jcambers for pointing this one out. Get it? Boo.)

 

2 years, 288 000 jelly beans. Insane. Gloriously insane.

 

My laundry doesn’t sound like this…

(Thanks to my buddy Gord @gordondickinson for this one)

 

Well, guess what – it’s that time of year again! Yep, just a couple days and it’s December. So, without further delay, the first Christmas themed “Rocket Fuel Monday” post of the year! And to kick off the yule, we’ve chosen a classic.

You likely saw this one last year, but in case you were renting a studio apartment under a rock, here’s NorthPoint Church’s “iBand”.

Is it an Apple commercial? Is it a band? Is it a monument to commercialism? I dunno, but it’s pretty dang creative…and I dug it.

 

My mind is an odd place to be sometimes.

I have some strange trains of thought, on occasion, I’m sure you do too, but we always feel like the only one.

One of the things I’ve occasionally bumped up against is the idea that if I enjoy it, it must not be from God. Sounds dumb, no? Well, maybe when I type it like that it does, but in the confines of my innards it can be a real tete-a-tete for me sometimes. To explain what I mean, it’s the idea that I get myself into this vicious thought cycle often when I’m doing something I believe to be God’s will or even just making a decision of any significance. I get this not-so-merry go ’round thing happening where I think, “Is this really what I’m supposed to be doing, or am I just convincing myself of it because I enjoy it?”, or, “Is that really what I should do or do am I just rationalizing it because it’s what I want to do?”, or even, “Uh oh, this is starting to be fun, I better check myself and reassess things.”, and so on.

Sound familiar? Anyone? Of course not, I know. But humour me anyway.

It took me a while, but I’ve made a little progress in that regard. I had my mind jogged to think about this in a recent conversation with someone who is a potential new team member in our worship ministries at my church. This person had gone through our orientation/training and is processing what it means to be involved in worship ministry. I got an email with some of those questions…”How do I know I’m doing this for the right reasons, and I’m not just pursuing it for my own glory or gain?”

My first reaction was, “Awesome. So glad you’re struggling with that.” That doesn’t sound very comforting, but the truth is I was glad to hear that this individual was grappling with that stuff. In my reply, part of what I said was that when we arrive at a place where we never consider our motives or check ourselves against what we hear God asking of us, well, we’ve lost the plot. I think we, especially those whose ministry involves any kind of public persona, have a responsibility to hold our feet to the fire in that regard. That said, I think this is what Andy Stanley would call, “A tension we manage, not a problem we solve.”

The danger, of course, is that we let our grappling with this stuff handcuff is from ever pursuing anything or following a prodding or taking a risk in faith. The truth I’m working toward living in is this idea that I’m uniquely constructed by God with an innate and ingrained set of gifts and accompanying “desires of the heart”. The simple version of the way I understand it is that I’ve been gifted by the Holy Spirit in certain ways, and as such I’m built in such a way that utilizing those gifts in the way the God intended and for His glory tends to ring my bells. The problem, of course, is that sin can mess this stuff up pretty good. My insecurities and selfish desires can cloud the issue, undoubtedly. That’s why I say this is a tension we manage. This side of glory, as they say, we’ll just have to have an eye on our gauges at all times. I can grow, but I’ll never be completely free from distorting and twisting this “gifting/desires” thing until this whole “human” thing is sorted out.

I think this is probably a common struggle for worship leaders. First of all, we’re on stage in front of people weekly, sharing a musical gift, running along the fences of an industry built on worshiping the individual artist. Artists also tend to have a bit of a sensitive, chewy center and the desire for approval is often a familiar foe. That’s why I love Psalm 139. I think returning to this Psalm and praying it through is the antidote to this tension. David takes a poetic walk through God’s hand on His life, almost reminding Himself that God is the architect who made Him, knows Him and directs Him. It’s a beautiful reminder of the confidence we can operate with when we’re clear on who our confidence is in. Then there’s this little tag at the end that makes this piece the perfect tool for the job. At the end of it all, David comes back and says, “God, search me. Take a look through and find out what parts are me and weed ‘em out; replace them with You.” There it is. There’s the tension. God, You know me and You made me and I can have every confidence in the gifting and calling You’ve placed on my life because of who You are, not because of who I am…so, search me out and make sure that I’m operating out of the surety and joy of who You made me to be and for Your glory – and nothing else.

I think it’s probably no coincidence that this Psalm is written “For the Director of Music”.