We gathered our volunteers together to ask them to make four commitments: two spiritual and two musical.

Spiritual

• Worship God all week long. Will you commit to forming a habit of listening to and responding to God all week long by daily asking God to speak to you, reading the Bible, meditating on what God says to you through it, and praying? These basic disciplines help us to “abide” in Christ, to be “branches” tightly connected to the “Vine” because “apart from Him you can do nothing.” (John 15)
• Treat us like a church, not a gig. Will you commit to being part of our community on Sunday regardless of whether you are scheduled to volunteer or not? As volunteers we’re serving not only God but our community called “church.” We do this out of deep love for both. This love compels us to be part of this community not just when we’re scheduled to serve but anytime we’re able – every Sunday we’re in town and not serving someone else in need.

Musical

• Be prepared. Will you commit to practicing your part during the week so that by Sunday morning you are prepared to serve free of self-consciousness and anxiety? Sunday morning is not to the time to learn your part, but the time to put the parts together into one beautiful whole. Every Tuesday night you will receive a song list, chord charts and mp3s and you always have access to our leaders and other players if you need help of any kind during the week as you practice your part.
• Be teachable. Will you commit to listen to others and learn from them, especially your section leader? None of us, not even leaders, have arrived – we all have a great deal to learn about our instruments from each other. Our section leaders are our main teachers, available to you for mentoring on your instrument. They may also, at times, respectfully and kindly offer unsolicited critique and instruction. The better we become at our instruments, the less self-conscious and anxious we become and the more joy we experience in serving.

Commitment

Then, I asked them to take a week to pray and talk with family about their ability to make these commitments for the next six months.

The healthiest volunteer organizations do not ask for an open-ended commitment. In other words, most churches are not healthy because the Sunday school teacher, the bass player, the volunteer counselor are all asked to commit without time limit. When a volunteer is struggling, it’s harder to persevere and serve cheerfully when there’s no end to their struggle in sight. But a volunteer can stick it out more easily and cheerfully when they know their perseverance has a finish line and they know exactly when that is. Paradoxically, volunteers are more loyal when they’re given the freedom to quit at the end of their term.

Then, I promised: No matter how passionate and gung-ho a volunteer is I will not allow him to commit to more than six months of service at a time. No matter how amazing and integral a musician is to our community I will not be upset if they cannot make these commitments at this time and I will not try to change their mind.

Sometimes we assume that because we’re great at teaching, God wants us to teach at church. Or because we can sing we should sing at church. But only God knows what the next six months hold. He knows that in a couple months our spouse will be sick, our kids’ class will need a teacher, our responsibilities at work will increase and we won’t have time to practice, we’ll be wronged by a neighbor and nurse a grudge that hinders our sincerity in worship. Our talent is not an automatic “yes” from God. We need to ask his permission and our family’s before committing to six months of service.

I also reminded our volunteers that we currently have more musicians on rotation than we have people willing to love and serve children and youth. And children are a higher priority. My hope is that some of our musicians will in fact bow out and serve children for the next six months.

So, if you serve at your church in any capacity, I’d like to hear what that commitment and experience is like? How could your church better serve those who serve her? Leave a comment. Teach me something!

Of course, “spiritual disciplines” have strong biblical foundations and have been practiced by saints for two thousand years. But the disciplines were slowly forgotten by most non-Catholic followers of Christ as the rational modern scientific world around us seeped into our thoughts and choked out these ancient good habits. Too often the hussle of my own modern life has given me this sort of amnesia too. Here’s what I’d be better off remembering about spiritual disciplines.

For The Purpose Of Godliness

Practicing the spiritual disciplines places our emotions, volition, and intellect on the wheel for the Potter to mold – to mold us into the image of Christ. Paul told Timothy “Discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness (1 Timothy 4:7).” He said to “sow to the spirit” (Galatians 6:7-9 ) and “pursue holiness” (Hebrews 12:14). Holiness and godliness are gifts from God we cannot earn but practicing the disciplines makes us receptive to these gifts somehow.

For The Purpose Of Intimacy

The disciplines help us tune into God’s voice a bit better, and allow us to talk back as He nudges. The sheep learn the Shepherd’s voice by listening to it (John 10:27) and learn to “abide” in Him or stay dependent on Him because otherwise they can do nothing (John 15). The disciplines maintain our intimate dialogue with God.

I haven’t consistently practiced the disciplines over the years – but I’ve consistently returned to them. When I stop their practice I eventually find yesterday’s want to’s have become today’s should do’s. I love my wife because I promised to. I write songs because it pays the bills (in theory). I read the Bible because it’s my job to teach it. All of life becomes action without power, love or passion. So I return to the disciplines – back to the basic tools of “sowing to the spirit” and maintaining intimacy with God.

Here’s what practicing a few of the disciplines looks like on an average (good) day for me:

Solitude:

Before the kids wake up, I walk upstairs to my office, lock the door and sit by the window. I’ll need about an hour alone.

Pray:

I shoot straight with God, tell Him I’m tired and that while part of me wants to spend time getting to know Him better, part of me also wants to sleep or check e-mail or eat. I ask Him to help me focus and wake up. I ask Him to guide me as I try to get to know Him better, to speak to me, to help me hear Him.

Read:

I open the Bible and read one chapter, expecting God to speak to me. This week I’ve been in Galatians. So, on Monday I read Galatians chapter one. I read it slowly and out loud. I read it again. One line stuck out to me: Verse 4 says “…[Jesus] gave himself for our sins to rescue us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father…”

Meditate:

I may do one of a number of things to meditate at this point – or all of them. The goal isn’t to clear my mind and get in touch with my inner self as in Eastern religious meditation. The goal is to fill my mind with truth and get in touch with its Author.

I may put myself into the verse: Jesus gave himself for my sins to rescue me from the present evil age, according to the will of God my Father.

I may amplify the verse: Jesus gave, gifted, donated, surrendered, laid down himself for my sins to rescue, release, free, liberate me from the present evil age, according to the will, the wishes, the plan, the desires of God my Father.

I may pray the verse: Jesus, thank you for giving yourself for my sins. Thank you for rescuing me, not just from death someday but from evil right now. God, show me the evil in my own thoughts and heart. [I spent some time confessing and thanking God for His forgiveness.] What do you want to rescue me from today? [I listened and prayed to be rescued from everything that came to my mind. I prayed through the day's worries and struggles I knew were coming.]

Listen/Pray:

Then I ask God to still my mind, to shut me up and allow me to listen. I tell Him I’m open to convictions, inspirations, visions, prayer requests, to anything He wants to speak. I imagine my mind is a silent theatre with a blank screen. Then I’m still and quiet, but not relaxed. I’m attentive and on the edge of my proverbial seat listening intently – watching the screen for any sign of God.

One day recently, I saw a dark skinned girl in my mind’s eye, South American maybe, about eleven years old wearing a red shirt. She was under short green trees, maybe in an orchard and she was smiling with her lips together. I don’t know who she is or if I ever will but I prayed for her the best I could knowing nothing about her. Another day recently, an artist came to mind and I immediately felt intensely envious and angry toward them and I asked God to change that in my heart, to make me grateful for my life and theirs and then I prayed for that artist’s success.

Often God is silent – or I’m not that good at listening. So I pray through my family and friends and about any concerns I have and then thank God for every good thing that comes to mind.

Without Ceasing

With practice this process loses its beginning and end. If I’m in a habit of practicing these disciplines, they run under my whole day no matter what I’m doing. All day, long after I’ve unlocked that door and walked downstairs, I’m being gently urged to pray for this person or that, confessing this sin, releasing that worry, thanking God for that sight or smell, asking Him to comfort that stranger on the shuttle bus. And this destroys the artificial barriers between sacred and secular, work and worship, solitude and community, prayer and thought, meditation and the rest of life.

There’s no requirement in scripture to follow anyone’s particular prescribed method here – this isn’t law, it’s relationship. But Richard Foster’s writing is a good guide to start with, offering biblical foundations for each of the disciplines and more practical advice on how mere mortals can begin practicing them. If you’re of more of a Calvinist bent, check out Donald S. Whitney’s Spiritual Disciplines For The Christian Life – less mystical and more rational and systematic but an equally excellent introduction to the disciplines just the same.

For what it’s worth: This works for me. And when I drift out of these practices nothing seems to work at all.

First, there was the amicable parting of our youth minister/music guy. He’s on the lookout for a job that plays more to his gifts. As much as we all know his leaving was best for all involved, it sure hurt. His departure left a hole in our community that’s hard to fill. In fact it’s gonna take five of us to (attempt to) fill it.

We have a “worship administrator” guy who’ll be handling the organization and logistics, scheduling musicians, coordinating efforts with the lead sound guy. We have an incredible team of volunteers who set up the room, the chairs and curtains and whatnot every weekend as well. This way we creative types don’t have to do anything we admittedly suck at and don’t have the time to do.

Then there are four of us who will be leading the music on Sundays: JD, Ty, Doug and me. We’ve all led the music before as substitutes but now we’ll be on a regular rotation. Actually, I’ve only sung at our church once so these guys are the real experts. My primary volunteer roles so far have been teaching 2nd and 3rd grade Sunday school and substitute teaching in “big church” six to eight times a year. There are probably people in our church who don’t even know I sing and wonder what kind of job lets me get away with this hairdo!

Our pastor asked me to step in as the leader of these worship leaders, paying most of my attention to the spiritual and musical development of our team. It’s a volunteer position – one I was reluctant to take because of what it would mean for my career, but since the original invitation was given I’ve become more and more convinced of its perfect timing.

Between now and October I’m on the road a lot. But after that I’ve decided to limit my gigs to two weekends each month – which will mean fewer children get sponsored, fewer CDs get sold and my “career” takes a backseat for a while – ends could be harder to make meet. But this transition and these great people I get to serve alongside now deserve as much attention as we can offer them. And I’ve slowly become convinced this is the right move for me.

I know how to arrange songs, put bands together, rehearse them, improve a player or singer over time, etc. But I’m not passionate about all that music stuff. I’m excited to see what will happen to our heads and hearts and relationships in the next year or so as our priorities take shape. I’m most excited about expanding our community’s definition of worship, beginning with our musicians.

What does success look like in this job? I’ve thought about that a lot. If success is innovation and cranking out a CD of original tunes penned by our team or doubling church attendance because of awesome music then, well, I’m not the guy.

Thankfully, that’s not our definition of success. Success is: If the music is very very bad one Sunday, nothing goes right, and no one complains. If musicians are worshiping without songs all week, reading the bible, meditating on it, memorizing it, silently listening to God every day – because they want to. If there are more people in line to teach and serve and give than there are to sing and play. If we can cancel music for a month and people still show up on Sunday to be with God and each other. If silence isn’t squirmed through. If great players befriend pretty good ones and treat them with respect and genuine love. If musicians quit to tend to their marriages or their kids or their faith. That’s what success looks like to me.

God, lead the leader of leaders.

I first met Regie when I was working in a small office at a music publishing company. He had an intense way about him, restless, his dark brown eyes open a little too wide on his chubby face, hair held back by a pair of shades. He didn’t say much to me if anything, just stood in the doorway while another writer dropped off a demo of a song they’d written together I think.

That was my job in those days: to sit at a desk archiving other people’s songs onto disks, entering the writers’ info into a spreadsheet, listening, learning, dreaming of signing a writing deal of my own.

A year or two later – I’m no good with time – Regie was signed to the company, turning in song after song. I remember one batch in particular, a group of songs that would later become the heart of his first album American Dreams. I wasn’t supposed to, but I dubbed a copy of those songs for myself and drove around for months listening to them over and over again, dissecting the efficiency of every line, studying the way he set up each hook and shed new light on them at the bridge. Listening to Regie’s music, and so many others, was my advanced degree in music composition – the stuff I couldn’t learn in any other classroom.

One verse stands out in my memory as a revelation. Every line containing information, but not forced, nothing wasted, each one leading to the next seamlessly. It’s from the song “American Dreams”:

Charlie O’Connally, a mariner’s son
Followed the Hudson Bay tide
Found Ellis Island in 1901
And found him a young Irish bride
Worked in a sweathouse for ten cents a day
To pay for the children she bore
Dublin was more than a lifetime away
The pipes weren’t calling no more
Cause he was locked up and tangled in poverty’s chains
But a red celtic river ran hot through his veins
The new world was nothing but factory steam
Charlie was dreaming American dreams

I started writing “Heaven Hang On“, my first (and last) story song in an attempt to put the lessons learned from “American Dreams” into practice.

What I’m trying to say is, when I was younger I wanted to write like Regie Hamm when I grew up. I still can’t. But I’m better now than I would have been without his words to learn from.

The album American Dreams released a few years ago and Regie said goodbye to the Christian music business, to writing hits for Christian radio like his breakout “I Surrender All” performed by Clay Crosse and producing for Christian labels. The album went nowhere and I often wondered what Regie was up to. We weren’t buds or anything. We never crossed paths. I was just a fan who wished success for one of my many musical mentors.

On the way to the baggage carousel in the Nashville airport on Saturday I saw Regie – slimmer than I remembered, looking younger than his old self, younger than me. “Regie Hamm!” I shouted. “Shaun!” he shouted back and hugged me like family.

Who is this guy? Regie Hamm never smiled this much? Regie Hamm never hugged me before?

There was something lighter about Regie. We made small talk and he asked what I was up to. I looked at the floor. My lack of success in the music business still shames me unexpectedly sometimes. “You know,” I said, “I’m still playing shows every month – I don’t write much anymore but I’m trying to do that again; I think I need to do that again.”

He just smiled and then – “Oh!” – like he remembered he left the coffee maker on back at his hotel a thousand miles away. He turned to his manager. “Do you have a copy of the book on you?” he asked. And then he handed it to me, “fresh off the press”, a copy of Angels and Idols, a biography that he said would catch me up on his life since our days at the publishing company years ago. And I think he knew it could bring comfort to the shamed too.

I inhaled it. I spent Saturday night and Sunday reading it in spurts between treating the kids for lice, cleaning, buying groceries and treating the kids for lice again.

If you’re a little particular about your books and only expose your eyeballs to Pulitzer quality stuff, then skip it. There are a few spelling and grammatical mistakes, a few too-long sentences I got lost in for a second. He’s a better writer in the fences of verse and chorus than the wide open spaces of chapters – I can relate.

But the writing fits the raw honesty, heartache, confession and God-wrestling of the story. I wouldn’t want it any other way. This is the gritty true story of a man who went from rags to riches to rags to riches to gratitude for it all. He’s not polishing it up for us. Reading it felt like therapy, like coffee with a good friend, like hearing a confession, like sitting at the feet of a great story teller, like hearing the healed man exclaim, “All I know is I was blind and now I see!” – It felt like all of that.

My lows have never been as low as Regie’s (losing his mind, marriage, health, and career) nor my highs as high (penning the third most successful song by a male vocalist in the history of American music), but his tale is similar enough to my own that the lessons Regie wrote about learning were lessons I knew I needed to pay attention to. Once again I spent hours learning from Regie and I think I’m better for it.

The book Angels and Idols is available at Amazon.com and so is his new album Set It On Fire. Or you can grab both on his site: regiehamm.com.

I especially recommend Angels And Idols to aspiring writers and artists. It’ll screw your head on straight without having to go through the heartache usually required to get the job done. It’ll also teach you the nuts and bolts of the music business that can’t be learned in school and won’t be talked about at an industry-hosted workshop. And I recommend it to parents of special needs children and those experiencing the aftermath of a difficult adoption as well: Regie’s been there, done that, still doing that and lived to comfort others who are in the thick of it.

So we’re celebrating.

The whole family is headed out to sea for a week. A whole week without cooking a meal, scrubbing a dish, mopping a floor, returning a phone call, entertaining strangers, or – ah – the internet.

Papaw turned 90 just in time. I need a break. Even if he doesn’t seem to!

The road has worn me out. This Summer I’ve had the honor – truly, an honor – to be one of Compassion‘s regular festival speakers. I’ve never spoken to so many people at once, seen so many children sponsored, seen so many different meats on sticks. Seriously, a corndog made from a Twinkie? Really? Is your life so miserable that you’re now sprinting to heaven? Have you nothing to live for??

But, anyway, it’s been a blast of a Summer so far but I need some rest, a few hands of Blackjack, a little swimming with stingrays, sleeping in, the rhythms of the water, a good book, a nap in the ocean breeze with my bride, lots of belly laughs with friends and family, to celebrate life with a man who’s seen more of it than most.

I need to lie down beside some still waters, to have my soul restored.

Mom and Dad are in town to play with my kids for the week and I’m off to the big boat.

While I’m gone, you might want to check out my favorite blogs, the ones I won’t get to read this week. And when I get back, I’ll see some of you at the six festivals and many college chapels we’ll be heading to in the next few months. After I unspoil my children and detox them from sugar and lawlessness.

Could you do me a favor? Pray that God “makes me lie down” – it doesn’t come easily for me.

Thanks, friends.

She sees my bowl full of cereal, or hears an omelet sizzling in the skillet, smells her brother’s breakfast and her own hunger is amplified to the point that it can no longer go unnoticed and unsatisfied.

Before we become Christians, we don’t desire God’s will with our heart – the seat of spiritual hunger. We can’t even discern what His will is. Our soul’s stomach wants what is opposed to God, even the good we do is motivated by selfishness: the applause and recognition of men, acceptance by some religious system or obedience to some government law, quid pro quo. None of us are born craving obedience to God and able to obey God with unselfish motives, to obey simply because what we desire most is obedience to God.

But Christians are given a new heart, a new spiritual appetite sometimes called the “new nature.” It was promised to us by the prophet Ezekiel.

EZEKIEL 36:25-27 I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. ²⁶ I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. ²⁷ And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws.

The Spirit lives in us and moves us to obey God’s laws now written on our heart. We are now able to discern the will of God, want the will of God, and accomplish the will of God.

We fail, of course. We aim for perfection and miss. In my own life I see this happen again and again and I hate it. That hatred is evidence enough that my deepest desire is to think, believe and behave like Christ. Not my only desire, but my deepest.

That desire needs stirring. It needs to be fanned into ravenous hunger that can’t be ignored, one that causes me to pull over, change course and satisfy it.

When I’m speaking to a group of Christians I often forget this. I begin to believe it’s my skill that will move the crowd to obey God, to love Him and their neighbor.

I was reminded this morning, as I ate my cereal in front of Gabriella, that my job as a speaker on Christ’s behalf is to tell the truth, love the truth, model obedience to the truth, to eat in front of the crowd. This arouses their God-given appetite for Him. It spurs them on to love and good deeds.

I’m headed to Lifest later today and will speak a couple times there tomorrow on behalf of Compassion International. I’m hoping I get to catch lots of good music and teaching too. Pray we all get hungry and then satisfied.

It’s on his newest album, The Medicine, which releases today. Go get it. I can’t recommend it highly enough. Beautiful, innovative, poetic, intelligent, subversive, theologically robust, sonic sweet tea and biscuits, transcendent.

Enjoy.

Death In His Grave (Performance Video) from john mark mcmillan on Vimeo.

Lyrics:

Though the Earth Cried out for blood
Satisfied her hunger was
Her billows calmed on raging seas
for the souls on men she craved

Sun and moon from balcony
Turned their head in disbelief
Their precious Love would taste the sting
disfigured and disdained

On Friday a thief
On Sunday a King
Laid down in grief
But awoke with keys
Of Hell on that day
The first born of the slain
The Man Jesus Christ
Laid death in his grave

So three days in darkness slept
The Morning Sun of righteousness
But rose to shame the throes of death
And over turn his rule

Now daughters and the sons of men
Would pay not their dues again
The debt of blood they owed was rent
When the day rolled a new

On Friday a thief
On Sunday a King
Laid down in grief
But awoke holding keys
To Hell on that day
The first born of the slain
The Man Jesus Christ
Laid death in his grave

On Friday a thief
On Sunday a King
Laid down in grief
But awoke with keys
Of Hell on that day
The first born of the slain
The Man Jesus Christ
Laid death in his grave

He has cheated
Hell and seated
Us above the fall
In desperate places
He paid our wages
One time once and for all

Disclaimer: I wasn’t asked to write this post by John Mark, his label, his mama or anyone else associated with him and I’ve not been reimbursed for doing so. It’s just such stinkin’ great music that I couldn’t help myself.

It would be a very sharp and trying experience to me to think that I have an affliction which God never sent me, that the bitter cup was never filled by his hand, that my trials were never measured out by him, nor sent to me by his arrangement of their weight and quantity.

Other intelligent devout thinkers, like Richard Foster, author of Celebration of Disciplines, imply that God knows about but does not engineer our afflictions. Instead, God allows them for some greater good as God took down his “hedge of protection” around Job and allowed Satan to test Job’s devotion to God.

Still others say God does not allow our pain, but it is purely an attack from Satan that God walks with us through and makes the best of.

In times of intense suffering, I’ve demanded answers. I’ve shouted at God, stomped my feet, banged the floor with my fists, tears swelling my eyes, and begged that he give an account for the “thorn in my flesh.” How could a good Father send or allow or be ignorant of pain in his beloved child’s life?

The apostle Paul answers in part and redirects my energy from questioning God to thanking him.

7To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:7-10

Why might I be suffering? Paul gives two reasons. 1) In verse 7 Paul says his suffering was “given” to him to prevent conceit. I might be suffering for my own good, to develop Christ’s character in me. In Paul’s case, to keep him from becoming proud, to give him reputational amnesia, to make him more dependent on God. 2) At the end of verse 7 Paul says he’s suffering because Satan wants to torture him. He says his “thorn” is a “messenger” of Satan. Literally, it is an “angel” or “one who is sent” by Satan to “torment” him, or “beat [him] with a fist” or “torture” him.

Who gives these “thorns”? Again, Paul says clearly that the suffering he experienced was a subject of Satan, Satan’s messenger, Satan’s angel, sent by Satan. But, why would Satan want to prevent conceit in Paul? It doesn’t make sense that Satan would want to make Paul more like Christ. So, again, we have a paradoxical answer that isn’t as clean as the ones I’ve received from the theologians and authors I respect and have turned to for answers.

Paul sees his infirmity as being both sent by Satan and used by God for great good, to build Paul’s humility. Paul didn’t care to clarify how exactly this partnership between Satan’s torture and God’s good worked. Instead, Paul spent his words on emphasizing his gratitude to God for his suffering.

Paul cried out to God to take his thorn away and God refused. Instead of removing Paul’s pain, Jesus himself promised his power to Paul, sufficient power to meet the pain he was in. In fact, Jesus said, only in such a state of weakness could Paul know the “perfect” or “complete” power of God.

Paul looked at his suffering then as a gift he delighted in: the gift of God’s strength that can only be received when his own strength is inadequate, sapped, used up, gone.

That’s all the answer Paul offers. It’s all I need for now.

God answered our prayers!

You spread the word and you gave! Generously. More money was raised than needed. I don’t have an official total number but it’s at least $26,000 that you raised/gave and only $20,449 was requested for the surgery. The excess will go into Compassion’s medical assistance fund to heal other children in need. Thank you for giving!

And God healed! Achile made the long trip from Brukina Faso in Western Africa to specialists in India and the surgery went off without a hitch. He’s doing great! I received these pictures today of Achile in the hospital recovering with Spiderman.

Again…

Before:

And after:

Thank you for loving Achile. Thank you, Compassion for loving him and being a conduit of God’s hope and healing in his little life!

“But I love you,” I said. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?”

She stopped her pushing, brought her blanket up to her nose for a sniff, looking over it into my eyes, ready to hear.

“I love you. But just a little bit.”

She eyed the small gap made between my finger and thumb.

“I love shots in the booty this much.”

I opened the gap a hair wider.

“I love a poke in the eye this much.”

One undetectable smidge wider.

“And I love you this much.”

“Nuh uuuuh!” she said and grabbed my finger and thumb with both hands, bit her bottom lip and pulled them apart with all her might.

“I don’t have fingers big enough.”

I miss her already. But just a little bit.