Alright, this is the last time that I’ll ever mention this…just a beef I have with our restaurant culture that came upon us seemingly out of nowhere (like that Dane Cook guy). Since when am I supposed to expect a lemon in my water? Seriously! I can’t stand it! I ask for water and it’s automatically garnished! When did this happen? Was there some sort of meeting of the collective restaurant minds that spawned this sudden dogmatic principle that states water can no longer be just water? I can understand the general idea behind this phenomenon, but all of the sudden it applies to everyone without even a question as if we’re all wired the same way. What if every time you got an oil change, the mechanic painted a racing stripe on your car because he thought it looked cool? Or if you got a haircut and the stylist dyed your blonde roots brown because ‘the majority of her customers like it that way.’

This wouldn’t get accepted nearly as easily in any other part of society, but somehow this little trend slipped through the cracks. Maybe I’m the only one who is perturbed by it, but when I’m out at a restaurant I have to order ‘plain water’. PLAIN WATER! What’s more plain than water? But if I fail to specify, I end up getting some poor man’s Gatorade. This wasn’t the case five years ago, but nowadays it’s standard. Sure, a lemon in water may have health benefits…so does running but you don’t see everyone doing it. It may be tasty to some…but we all have different taste buds. Water is just fine as is. It doesn’t need a spritz of anything. And who decided lemon was the way to go? Why not an orange slice or grapefruit? Or how about a tomato? I hear they’re healthy.

I would just appreciate it if my servers would ask for my preference. Like so many other things in life, options should be given upon request and not assumed. I had to get this off my chest and I’ll try, real hard, not to bring this up anymore but it’s tough when it occurs every time I dine out. Now, can I get a Diet Vanilla Black Cherry Coca Cola Classic with Lime please?

We encounter the unbelievable on a regular basis: the tropical fish that can survive out of water for months at a time, the child born with eight limbs, the man that ate his way through an entire car, rust and all.

Lorraine is 95 years old. She is slumped in a wheelchair now, but her body holds the residue of soft fluid lines, shoulder to hip, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Arms hang akimbo, each jutted in a slightly different direction. Her hair is swept around at the nape of her neck in a soft bun; her mouth, down-turned at the edges and mostly unresponsive. But her eyes, those gray eyes were sharp. And they cut me that day.

When I opened the waiting room door to wheel her into the examination room, she surprised me with the unbelievable. She lowered her voice conspiratorially, struggled to raise her neck, and looked up, her eyes unclouded.

“You know, I was a dancer once,” she said. She shifted her gaze to her spindly legs, mere straw shafts under loose fitting stretch pants. Her metal cane made a hollow scraping noise against the spokes of the wheelchair as we turned a corner. “I began dancing when I was seventy-five years old. My children and grandchildren had grown up and I realized it was time to do what I was created to do. I was just a little bit late.”

The joy moving over her face was unbridled. No longer was she 95 and wheelchair-bound, reserved and uncertain. All signs of anxiety visibly drained from her face as she stopped to remember the pirouettes and petit allegros. She had known what she wanted and went after it. Recklessly.

What’s holding us back from living a life of such complete reckless abandonment, a life that is so filled with the passion and drive that we only look to the future, rather than becoming weighed down with the past? What’s it going to take for us to make bold moves for God outside of the normal routine? For us as a generation to rise up and execute a peaceful revolution, one grounded in God’s love, grace, and faithfulness?

I think part of it lies in understanding what God created each of us to do.

So often I forget that God has a unique plan for each one of us, one that allows for the dual purpose of serving Him in heaven and His people here on earth; a plan that allows us to use our His gifts for His glory, no matter the talent; a plan that will bring us unspeakable joy just by following His cues.

Why then do we have such a hard time grasping all that God wants to give to us?
This is a call for action: for the artists, the number-crunchers, the musicians, the handymen (and women), the teachers, the socialites, the librarians, the computer scientists and the political scientists alike. For the weary and the strong, the shy and the outspoken, the healed and the broken.

Embrace the talent that God has instilled in you. Use it to bring glory to His name, to reach out to each other, to form lines of mutual understanding and edification.

Don’t give into the unbelievable– dance recklessly, arms flailing and head bobbing. Know the song that’s on the tip of your tongue. Sing it boldly, just as you were created to do.

That dizzying, inevitable, crystallized moment when there’s nothing else for you but Love. Passionate, compelling, unrelenting and unrestrained Love. Not the brand you’ve been sold in every way conceivable—from billboards to the airwaves—no, I write about a Love that’s much more subtle. It whispers in the streets amidst speeding cars and chirping mobiles. It speaks a language foreign to our ears—uttered in a tone so beautiful it has the power to revolutionize hearts and minds in the breadth of a moment. I don’t want to confuse you; this is not some whimsical fairy-tale Love, aimed at thickening your wallet and boosting your popularity. This love of which I write is the Love of Jesus Christ—the great I AM—Creator, Savior, and Lord over heaven and earth alike. But this love is not extended free of charge. Let me rephrase that. His love is a gift that anyone can receive, and it is freely given, but to accept it is to surrender to it completely. For to know this Love is to give it.

But this love is not something to merely be mentioned. It is not a spiritual bandwagon. The Love He gives is consuming. If your most beloved were to lay down their life—to be beaten, bruised, and tortured unto death—would it not move you? Would you not tell of their sacrifice and seek justice for the crime? A day would not pass without their sacrifice burning up your heart and mind. And your love for the ones you love most are to appear as hatred when compared to your love for Jesus—the One who did lay down His life for you (Luke 14:26). That’s right—passionate and deep-running love.

Every praise song you breathe is a love song to Him. When I write love songs and sing them to my significant other, would I interrupt myself periodically to tell a joke or inquire as to where she wanted to eat lunch that afternoon? What a ridiculous thought. So how can we act that way in regard to Jesus?

In a big way I think many of us have lost sight of the Love we have for Him. That first moment when you felt the depth of His Love has been forgotten in a sea of media. We forget Him although he surrounds us in countless ways throughout every day—the honesty of a friend, or the selflessness of a stranger. Joy, peace, kindness, and love—these are merely symptoms of who God himself is. And he Loved us before we even existed, in a way and depth that is truly a mystery to grasp. How can we not love Him in return?

I love Christmastime. I love the traditions, the food, the bulky sweaters, the red cups at Starbucks, the lights in downtown Rochester. I enjoy watching as many Christmas movies as possible, beginning with Elf and Home Alone, and working my way backward to the old holiday classics. Holiday Inn, White Christmas (my wife’s favorite), The Bishop’s Wife, and Miracle on 34th Street all get watched in our house as we hang decorations and pick up needles. But there is one movie that stands out as not only my favorite Christmas film, but also as my all time favorite regardless of genre. It’s a Wonderful Life has been choking me up since early elementary years, and it has etched a deep place into my heart in my adult years – ever since Christmas of 1998.
I was working at Circuit City, as a Audio/Video Sales “Counselor”, and I was having one of the greatest Decembers on record for a salesman. I had worked over 80 hours in the week leading up to Christmas Eve, and was scheduled to leave at noon so that I could make it to Cleveland by that evening to spend time with my family who had driven to my sister’s home. As I tended to the needs of last minute shoppers, the time started to slip away. Each time I tried to get out the door, the manager would hand me another customer to sell. As I closed theses last second deals, I kept noticing other guys in my department leaving to go home early and before long I was the only one left. I was stuck. I even had to help close down the store. By the time I finally waded through the slushy parking lot to my car, it was past 5pm. Cleveland was a 7 hour drive from where I lived in Scranton, Pennsylvania and I still had to run some last second errands of my own.
I’ll never forget the moment that I made the call. It was about 8:30pm on Christmas Eve and I was standing in my parent’s home, which had no decorations up at all because they had just placed it on the market to sell in preparation for their move to Tennessee. I had to tell my family that I wasn’t making it to Cleveland for Christmas.
Home alone.
I desperately searched for some sort of a decoration, and found one of those 12 inch trees with the lights on it and the burlap bag base and plugged it in. I made myself some hot chocolate and ate toast (they were on vacation so the cupboards were pretty barren). Then I sat down on the couch and popped in my favorite Christmas movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. As I watched it this time, the story resonated in a way that it never had before. I had never felt so alone, and introspective thoughts began to overwhelm me. Then Harry Bailey arrived at the spontaneous Bailey Rally in front of the Christmas tree and Zuzu’s Petals and offered the toast, “To George Bailey, the richest man in town!”, and I lost it.
Completely and utterly lost it.
I bawled. Audibly sobbing. I had the biggest, longest, messiest cry of my 21 year existence. I even stood in front of the mirror and watched myself cry. It was a very weird hour.
Fast forward one year. Christmas 1999. I am now engaged to Angela Marie Holdridge, and am sitting in her parent’s living room sharing about what God had done in our lives over the past year. When it came time for me to share, the tears came back… My lip was quivering. My words failed. My tears streamed boldly in front of a stunned family.
I was reflecting on a stunning transformation. I was now surrounded by the woman I loved, a family that welcomed me with open arms and a tissue box, and the searing knowledge of God’s generosity. This led me to a different type of introspection. This time it wasn’t about what I was missing, but about what God had given me. As I fumbled my way through an emotional testimony, I reached in my pocket to see if maybe just maybe, I might find Zuzu’s petals.
I will never forget Christmas of 1998. Home alone – but not for long. I would encourage all of us to reflect on the gifts of God in our lives this year. He is so good.

How many of you have ever been job searching and the employers all require experience that you can’t get ‘cause they won’t give you a job? What’s the solution? I asked myself, ‘do I have to be an unpaid intern or volunteer my time to get this experience?’ What about the college experience and the piece of paper that came of it? Was that all for naught? Of course it wasn’t, but this logic often surfaces in reference to thoughts about Christian faith. We can’t use the Bible to prove God exists to those who don’t believe in the Bible in the same way we can’t prove to a company that we’re capable of doing the job offered by showing them our diploma. They might not believe in our diploma; they want to see our abilities in a tangible environment.

So where do we as Christians start with non-believers? Can we really just point to verses that we hold to be true?

In Acts 2:38,39 Peter replied, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call.” NIV

This verse speaks straight to us, but how do we explain these concepts of sin and repentance to someone who believes that this life is all there is and our bodies on earth are all we are…no soul, no afterlife? They believe the Bible is manmade, or equally disheartening, that God is manmade. There is a fundamental need to show the world that our lives are full of the Holy Spirit who infiltrates our being. How has it changed your life and your heart? How has it curbed your tendencies towards sin?

Corporations today need to see your experience in the work place, just like non-Christians need to see your experiences with the Lord. It is not enough to claim with our lips, instead we must show it with our bodies and minds. They want experience…show them experience.

So I ask, are you experiencing God working in your life? Are you conversing with Him and listening to what He has to say to you? I pray that you are and that you are not just holding that ‘diploma’ you received at age 5 hoping that it’ll be enough to get you into heaven.

Kneeling at God’s throne above,
My tears are streaming down with love
Asking God “what have I done?”
Pleading mercy from the Son

Why do I fall, O God on high?
Do you hear my desperate cry?
Patiently I wait for You,
Ready, willing, make me new

Time and time I fall down,
Heavy shadows on the ground
Stumbling as I try to stand,
Reaching up for Christ’s hand

Why do I fall, O God on high?
Do you hear my desperate cry?
Patiently I wait for You,
Ready, willing, make me new

Grasping tightly I stand up,
Quenching thirst from the cup
Loving Father be my guide,
Strike and crush all my pride

Why do I fall, O God on high?
Do you hear my desperate cry?
Patiently I wait for You,
Ready, willing, make me new

Holy Spirit, Faithful One,
Quickly to you I will run
As storms arise all around,
In your arms may I be found

Why do I fall, O God on high?
Do you hear my desperate cry?
Patiently I wait for You,
Ready, willing, make me new
Ready, willing, make me new

1:12am.

That’s what the clock on my dashboard read a mere eleven minutes ago.
The night was clear, the ride easy. The roads were barren, save for a few of us renegades who dared to tempt the police with easy prey for unfilled quotas. As I stared at the yellow lines, their staccato rhythm hypnotizing, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to swerve across the lanes of traffic into the oncoming lane.
Relax, I was not contemplating suicide. That side of the road was empty.
I almost laughed to myself at the arrival of the unwelcome urge. There was no one to discuss this sudden weirdness with. So I contemplated what would give rise to it. It hit me a moment later.

I’d never driven on that side of the road before.
Is that a good enough reason?
There are reasons I have not: the aforementioned police, the promise of safety should I remain in my own lane. The eerie vine of nervousness crept into my gut, spurring a jolt of adrenaline into my heart to make me uneasy. The thought goaded me—accused me. You don’t have the guts.

I didn’t.
It’s probably a good thing, looking back. It’s strange to think, however, that there are things I refuse to do simply because I’ve never seen them done, or done them myself. I could fill a book with the things I’ve seen. I could fill volumes with things I haven’t. I’ve never seen cattle take flight. I’ve never seen a sunset in Jerusalem.

Because I’ve never seen it—does that make it not happen? Is it impossible? I have seen men live; they breathe, they eat. But I’ve never seen one die.

And they do.
I’ve seen the effects of death. I’ve felt the effects of its icy grip on a loved one.

I’ve never seen a man crucified. I’ve never seen a man raised from the dead.

To think…
Could a man return from death? Conquer it?
Could a man be perfect—sinless?
Could a perfect God wrap Himself in flesh?
Could a wretched man be made clean? For nothing?

No price?
No demand?

My economics professor told me there is no such thing as a free lunch. Nothing free at all, to broaden it. Someone has to pay for it.

He’s right.

I’ve been told that man’s heart is desperately wicked. The evidence is buried in my chest. Some things need not be seen. Some things require trust, and faith.

Someone paid my debt. I didn’t even see it happen. But I heard about it.
And oh, I’ve felt its effects.

This past weekend, I went back to Minnesota to do a wedding for one of my former students. We are extremely close to him and his family, so it was a very special event for all of us. I had a very interesting conversation with Dan, the groom, two nights before the wedding, and it made me think about deeper things.

Our conversation was about the fact that Dan had “changed” a lot since he started dating Kristin. In order for you to understand the gravity of that last sentence, you need to realize the before and after. The Dan that was in my youth group was a good times guy, loved to eat fast food, wasn’t especially fond of exercising, watched movies late into the night, then slept in past 2pm. He wasn’t a particularly good student, he just did enough to get by. His walk with God was up and down – up after a missions trip, down during the winter doldrums.

Now don’t get me wrong. He is one of my best friends in the world. He has always been a great listener, a friend that would drop everything to help. We laugh like little schoolboys when we hang out. We went ATVing together, shot things together, took road trips together, took air trips together, took missions trips together, and became like brothers.

But something else happened right before Dan met Kristin. He fell asleep driving his truck on a rainy Saturday morning and flipped it five times. The damage to the truck was breathtaking. He walked away with only cuts and bruises. I saw him later that day, and pulled him aside from the crowd to see how he really was doing. He told me that there had to be a reason for him to be alive. God must have something in store for him, something great for him to do. He realized that he shouldn’t still be here.

A few months later, Dan met Kristin, a beautiful girl from a small town in Nebraska. She loved to laugh, hated fast food, was very fond of exercising, was a Pre-Med and a brilliant student, and a passionate committed follower of Jesus Christ. You can obviously see why they were drawn to each other. The term “polar opposites” still doesn’t seem to cover it. Dan was completely smitten by this Cornhusker.

Okay, now back to the conversation I had with him on Thursday night. Dan was sharing with me that some of his friends were having trouble with the changes he had made over the past year. “I don’t know, I guess I have trouble explaining it to them,” as he looked out over the rainy landscape and took a sip from his Chai latte. “She just makes me want to be a better man.”

Those words seemed to hang in the air as we both realized the power that they contained. Have you ever struggled to describe what’s in your head, then you say it so perfectly that you are in a state of lyrical shock? Amazed at yourself, not in a proud way, just sort of surprised that you were capable of stringing together a line that belongs in a movie? (That line was in a movie, it was declared by Jack Nicholson to Helen Hunt in “As Good As It Gets” but anyway…)

Dan had spoken such truth in that moment, that my only response was a wide eyed “Wow”. He went on to say that Kristin didn’t force him to change things, she wasn’t like that. She was just authentic in who she was, her identity was sure. Dan wanted to make changes in order to be the man that he knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. It was his choice. And he chose her. He chose her love. Her love spurred him on to change, the changes stuck and led to growth, and the growth matured and led him to a new identity. She made him WANT to be a better man.

Who would have thought that Dan and his bride would organize a 2 mile run on the morning of their wedding? Or that Dan and Kristin would recite a long scripture passage from memory during the service? Or that they would request three worship songs for the attenders and wedding party to have a corporate and private worship experience during the wedding ceremony?

Her love made him want to be a better man.

What a beautiful picture of Christ. His perfect love should inspire us to live for him. Not by force, or mandate, or because we have to. But because we WANT TO! It’s delight versus duty. It’s a bride versus a slave. It’s a choice versus an obligation. We make a few changes for Him, which over time lead to growth, and eventually people will say to us “You are like a different person!” We are.

His love made us want to be passionate followers of Jesus.

The bitter sweetness that accompanies unoriginality is, no matter how well done the music is, the sound has been “pulled-off” before, and many will use this simple fact to discredit new acts. Emery’s debut “The Weak End” found its place amongst already established groups such as “Hawthorne Heights” and “Story of the Year.” Despite their unoriginality, in an industry flooded with “emo,” Emery skyrocketed onto the Pure Volume charts, and landed spots on tours such as “Vans Warped Tour.” The album carried a rather depressing tone, many of the songs pertaining to broken relationships and the various downfalls of the human heart. Integrating raged laden screams, with harmonious smooth vocals “The Weak End” saw the success of singles such as “Walls” and “The Ponytail Parades.”

In 2005, Emery released “The Question,” slightly departing from the signature sadness that pervaded “The Weak End,” and offered an emo rock, lightly sprinkled with pop, and even some electronica tones, without abandoning the screams that intensified their first CD. “I’m Only a Man” fuses together the tones of the first two CD’s, showing maturity in some areas, and immaturity in others.

Opening is the unorthodox “Rock and Rule,” which cycles through numerous tones, creating a sort of originality not found in every band. Moving along, is “The Party Song,” a well-crafted sing along tune, which is not terribly amazing, but far from bad. Here’s where some of the trouble brews. Outside of “The Party Song”, the CD is very unconventional, and although many would interpret this to be a good thing, it sometimes comes across as awkward. For example, “The Movie Song” repeatedly changes time signatures, which shows creativity and sounds good in theory, but sounds rather awkward when listening. However, the irregularity is not all bad. “Story about a Man with a Bad Heart” is far from radio friendly yet is very emotionally powerful, and memorable. Fans that feared that Emery may have mellowed out, need not worry, as the screams are plugged into all the right places, however those outside the “scene” will not understand their necessity. Highlights include “Rock and Rule,” “After the Devil Beats His Wife,” and “You Think Your Nickel Slick (But I Got Your Penny Change).” However on the down side, songs such as the acoustic, poppy, and upbeat “World Away” sound extremely out of place on “I’m Only a Man” The complaint is not about the style itself, but the actual job of pulling it off.

Lyrically, “I’m Only a Man” surveys the various failures of the human heart, from topics such as adultery to the fake fantasy world a drug-induced life can create. Despite the dark topics, the goal of the band is not to bring others down, but rather reflect on situations that could have been dealt with in a much better fashion. For example in “Story of a Man with a Bad Heart” the lyrics ends with “Is this sin… is this how I’ve spent my life, lying here, with a broken heart on bedroom floors, and finally… finally… I’ve realized… I’ve realized that I’m only a man.” The theme covers the persistent up and down nature of life, and how hindsight changes what was perceived as reality.

Overall, “I’m Only a Man” is semi-solid. The unconventional song structures, and rapid change of tones, may appeal to some, but it’s doubtful to pick up new fans. And that’s ok, as not every CD in the music world needs to be radio friendly, however Emery’s structures just seem plain awkward at times. Regardless, this highly anticipated release is bound to sell copies, and well enough so, as their last two CD’s consisted of very solid song lineups. Just be sure to check out their Pure Volume before making a purchase.

Release Date: October 2nd, 2007
Label: Tooth and Nail Records
Rating: 3 out of 5

Faces hold in time
Cast upon my mind
The audience captivated is me and only mine
And I see it flow
I don’t know
How so fast life can go so slow
But I’m sure I want you to keep me company
Is it strange to think eternally when we are still so young?
Do you see our lives that way–or is it only some?
Well I know for sure
What I’m living for
It doesn’t take much faith–only trust
And I’m so glad for you
That you’re here to help me through
It won’t be long till He comes back for us