I am stoked about this series now airing on KEY Radio. Dr. Chuck Swindoll is a marvelous communicator, and this subject matter is life-changing. I wish every person I know would awaken to God's grace
—LDS and Christians alike. Including myself.
If you can't listen to KEY Radio in Utah, you can listen online anywhere. Times listed are MST. Or, listen on-demand and find out more here.
Here's a teaser to get you thinking: what is grace? And how do we live it?
Provo City recently created this nice 3-minute look at our town. The city has been going through a re-branding process—new logo, motto, signage, etc.—and this is one result. There's a little commentary by our esteemed mayor, with whom I have chatted about contact lenses and airline preferences, and have found to be a most pleasant fellow. It also features some spiffy time-lapse video and shots of favorite local businesses and landmarks. I dig it, yo.
After watching the video a second time, it hit me: there is something curiously absent from the video. Remember, this is a city that is about 90% Latter-day Saint (Mormon). Yet there is no evidence of the religious culture—no shots of the Provo Temple... or Brigham Young University... or the LDS Missionary Training Center... or the ubiquitous LDS chapels. And the people that show up in the video seem surprisingly non-LDS-ish (I'm going mainly by clothing here). Indeed, this could be Any Nice City, USA. The only reference to the LDS Church that I noticed is a passing view of Brigham Young's statue at 2:42.
What's my point? Like a stubby pencil, I don't have one. I'm just curious. Like George. Was the omission intentional? Even strategic? Or am I, an outsider, overly sensitive to the peculiarities of this religion-dominated city? Maybe I am the only one to think the absence strange.* Any thoughts?
* This wouldn't be the first time I fixate on minutiae nobody else notices. I pore over the liner notes of CDs and records with a zeal most would reserve for a lost gem. And if there is one renegade comma in a 500-page book, I will find it. There are probably support groups for people like me. Come to think of it, maybe that's why I never get asked on a date. "Karisa? Oh, she's the one who will point it out if my shoes are laced asymmetrically. No thanks. Cute girl, though." I know, that last statement is unlikely. But when I make up other people's remarks, I can jolly well insert a compliment.
Whatever "auld lang syne" means... it's a pretty melody. Don't worry, I don't sing in this clip. I just show some proof of the guitar lessons I've been taking.
P.S. No, I do not play left-handed. Apparently Photo Booth records the mirror image; anyone know how to change that?
It is always energizing to see a group of people catch a vision, roll up their sleeves, and dig in to the grim, joyous work of reaching a specific area of Utah with the gospel. Though Salt Lake City is only forty miles north, it has a very different culture and needs than Provo. I am not affiliated with this church plant, but I wish them Godspeed.
Every year at Bryce Canyon National Park in southern Utah, 1.5 million tourists are told that the remarkable geology was formed 13 million years ago.
What if there were a way to reach these people from all over the world, with the truth—not just about creation—but also about the good news of Jesus Christ?
Last I heard, $40,000 of the total $110,000 is still needed. Donate to the "land purchase fund" here.
For more details on how you can help, contact my visionary colleague Rob Brannon at: robert (at) bryceoutreach.com
Encircled though I am by mountains and city, I can feel the quiet pulse of the prairies today. I can almost hear the wind whistling through last year's corn stalks standing in the field, half-covered by snow. I sense the winter wheat lying close to the ground, patiently, patiently awaiting the spring thaw. And I, too, await a day when I will shed the coldness of this world, this body, this heart so prone to wandering.
Maybe it's because I've been re-reading the classic Giants In the Earth, a story of Norwegian pioneers in Dakota Territory. The land in Rølvaag's novel is vast, stark, and richly fertile, and it leaves no one unchanged who seeks to survive it, much less tame it.
After 130 years, the land had been survived and peopled and maybe even slightly tamed, but it still inspired awe for Rich Mullins, who wrote a song to the Keeper of the Plains.
And so, in belated celebration of Kansas Day (I spent the majority of yesterday sick in bed, alas); and because there are some days when I just miss the prairies, and even more days when I long to be "shaken free of this old world"; and also because this is a beautifully poignant song and a good cover that begs to be shared...
But.
My identity is not wrapped up in my family or my vocation.
I am not simply the sum total of my personality and experiences.
I am not confined by the perceptions of others'.
I am not defined by my choices and successes.
Nor am I captive to my disadvantages and failures.
Sometimes I just need to be reminded who I really am:
Forgiven, Beloved, Hidden in Christ, Made in the image of the Giver of life. Righteous and holy, Reborn and remade, Accepted and worthy: This is [my] new name. I am new.
Thank you, Jason Gray.
It is worth noting that Jason does not address the question of identity merely from an academic standpoint. He knows whereof he speaks: Jason has a speech impediment. What would normally be considered a severe handicap to a career vocalist, has become an evidence of God's grace and an agent of inspiration. It serves as a constant reminder that, for the Christ-follower, identity is not determined by Self, but by Christ Himself.
I'm the one You love, I'm the one You love; That will be enough.
"I will call those who were not My people, 'My people,'
and her who was not beloved, 'Beloved.'
And it shall be that in the place where it was said to them,
'You are not my people,'
there they shall be called sons of the living God." (Romans 9:26-27)
Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come. Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ... (2 Cor. 5:16-17 NASB)
Lydia and I, hiking on the east side of Mt. Timpanogos.
There is something about yards-deep snow on a 90-degree day that I can't quite comprehend. Shouldn't it be—oh, I don't know—melting or something?
I know this winter's was a record-breaking snowfall. I know the eastern slopes of mountains don't get as much sun exposure. And I know the snow is melting, but the runoff occurs under the snowpack and out of sight.
Add up all the facts—and still! wading through snow in shorts does not compute in this prairie-raised brain. It's a humdinger to Midwestern me, but a matter of routine in Utah. Like fry sauce. And billboards advertising modest clothing. And church steeples every few blocks, all void of a cross. Many Utah anomalies I gladly adapt to. Some: I pray I never do.
The interstate is just a couple stone's throw from A Considerable Speck, and it's undergoing a massive revamp: four more lanes, all new interchanges, etc. It will be oh-so-wonderful when it's finished. But for the next 18 months or so: delays, detours, dust—and noise. (My alliteration skills fail me.)
And so this song by Nicky Mehta came to mind the other night as I lay awake, trying not to listen to the grating sounds of highway construction. (Pun intended.)
Oh, sweet peace, never have you fallen upon this town...
I cannot rest... at least until the darkness is quiet for a while.
How convenient that my friend (at least in the world of Facebook), Don Shorock, taped the winsome trio The Wailin' Jennys performing the song. I attended this beautiful concert, so if you hear an earnest though slightly off-key alto on the sing-along chorus—well, I'll let you put two and two together.
Peace or no peace, my home is in heaven anyway. Jesus said He's preparing a place for me before I get there, so there'll be no construction hubbub on those streets of gold once I arrive, thank you very much. I've been keeping a mental list, and I think "No Construction" makes Reason #1,742 that I am glad to be glory bound. Amen?
Grace. It was my grandma's name. It's what my name means. It has been the subject of I-don't-know-how-many sermons, lectures and songs I've heard over the years, growing up in the church and attending Bible college. Even so, when it comes to understanding God's grace for me, I've just begun to scratch the surface. I have settled all too often for a shallow, defeated, quasi-Christianity instead of embracing the fullness of His grace. Thanks to Pastor Milton Vincent for bringing this deficiency to my attention in a most thoughtful and heartfelt manner, during the recent Utah/Idaho BMW (Biblical Ministries Worldwide) Field Retreat. And thanks to Laura Story for writing and recording this sincere, reflective song—which I've found myself adding to just about every playlist I've built for KEYY since the Retreat. Her song solidifies in my mind and heart much of what Pastor Milton spoke of, and I hope it rings true for you, too.
Good stuff, huh?
Will you let me do something for you? I want to purchase an mp3 and send it to you, so you can listen to Laura Story's "Grace" whenever you need a reminder of the incredible riches of God's grace for you. Just get me your email address somehow, if I don't already have it, and I'll "gift" the song to you on iTunes. Leave a comment, or go the more secure route and email me (k c l a r k 3 4 @ y a h o o . c o m).
7.17.2010
All the travel headaches were worth it in the end. I had a pleasant ten days visiting family, as these photos attest. Featured characters in this little slideshow are my folks, my brother and his wife, my nephew and niece, paternal grandparents and maternal extended family. The building project was a storage shed for my brother's yard. And the background music? One of my favorite cuts from Tom, my traveling buddy. It's called "First Winter"; he plays both acoustic guitar and mandolin on it, and I believe he wrote the music as well.
Here's another taste of Provo culture for you out-of-staters. The following clips are from today's Freedom Festival grand parade. Yes, those are LDS (Mormon) missionaries being cheered on by the crowd. To be fair, people applauded almost as loudly for every military veteran who passed. The second clip shows a float depicting the Salt Lake City Temple and some Mormon pioneers.
Only in Utah do we celebrate the 4th of July on the 3rd of July when Independence Day falls on a Sunday! (The LDS Church teaches that Sunday is the sabbath and thus "our attention is on doing the Lord’s will and not continuing to work nor indulge our carnal appetites for recreation and loafing.") Provo's Freedom Festival is one of the biggest patriotic celebrations in the nation, and its Stadium of Fire event hosts the largest stadium fireworks display. Patti staked out a spot on the BYU campus earlier in the evening so we had a great view of the fireworks, except for an inconvenient tree branch. Gabe and Zeke, the boys of my co-laborers Josh and Christina Harding, are my fireworks-watching buddies here. (Note: I am not impressed by my own voice in the video's background. Good thing I'm not on the radio or anything.)
Happy Independence Day! Thank you to all our veterans, and may God shed His grace on America.
Is there a more gripping story than Abraham and Isaac on Mount Moriah?
Read Genesis 22. Though the narrative comes across very matter-of-fact, these fourteen verses document one of the most horrifying stories in all of Scripture. Horrifying and beautiful—and staggering in its implications. There are compelling lessons to be drawn from it on faith and obedience, for starters.
In the context of this Easter season, however, the ancient account takes on deeper meaning. Watch this video, listen to this song... and ponder: a Father "who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all" (Romans 8:32).
So I ask again: is there a more gripping story than Abraham and Isaac on Mount Moriah?
Yes; it is that of God the Father and God the Son on Mount Golgotha.
(What's the big deal about Jesus dying on the cross? Watch this video.)
Back when I was just getting into the whole iTunes thing (several years behind everyone else, it seems), one of the first songs I downloaded was Kristin Andreassen's "Crayola Doesn't Make a Color for Your Eyes". It's a clever, cheerful piece of songwriting, sung with delightful harmony and fabulous rhythm by her band Sometymes Why. What a happy surprise today to find this music video. Enjoy.
I was wondering if I could figure out how to post a video; turns out to be easy as pie. Easy as eating pie, that is. Making pie is a different story. Anyhow, I know I'm biased and all, but I find this little video of my nephew, Aaron, cularious (cute + hilarious). Notice how the kid always has to have music going and has come up with his own makeshift boombox (a musical truck my folks gave him for Christmas). He has a very bright future as a deejay like his aunt or perhaps a musician; probably, he's not going to win any coordination awards (again, like his aunt).
