Chris Tomlin concert

"How Can I Keep From Singing" by Chris Tomlin

There is an endless song
Echoes in my soul
I hear the music ring
And though the storms may come
I am holding on
To the rock I cling

How can I keep from singing Your praise
How can I ever say enough
How amazing is Your love
How can I keep from shouting Your name
I know I am loved by the King
And it makes my heart want to sing

I will lift my eyes
In the darkest night
For I know my Savior lives
And I will walk with You
Knowing You'll see me through
And sing the songs You give

I can sing in the troubled times
Sing when I win
I can sing when I lose my step
And I fall down again
I can sing 'cause You pick me up
Sing 'cause You're there
I can sing 'cause You hear me, Lord
When I call to You in prayer
I can sing with my last breath
Sing for I know
That I'll sing with the angels
And the saints around the throne

Last night something happened. Something happened to my mind, to my soul, to my entire being. On a smaller scale, I have personally known and experienced this certain phenomenon before. I think it can be said that these happenings are in many ways the same and at the same time, different.

What happened? Heaven happened!

The crowded amphitheater, filled with worshippers from every tribe, tongue, and nation became an extension of the Throne Room. Became the altar at the Mercy Seat. For a lingering moment in time every burden, every care, every hurt didn't exist. There was a conjoining of the Church triumphant and the Church militant, the Bride of Christ reaching out to Him, dancing for Him, lavishing Him with praise.

Words cannot adequately express the full scale of what happened. It was very real and very supernatural. It was so much more than a praise and worship concert. It was a receiving of the love of Jesus being poured out over His loved ones. It was a place where the enemy dared not enter. It was a biology lesson, astronomy lesson, and sermon all rolled up together. It was grace and mercy blanketing sinners who's likeness to Him is becoming more clear as He grows our faith. It was humbling, making me smaller and Him bigger. It was God revealing His plan to make all things new. It was all this and more. Above all, it was a momentary glimpse of Eternity, when all the angels and the saints will forevermore praise the Lamb in one accord.

I left the amphitheater praising Him; I went to bed praising Him; I woke up praising Him. I'm even sure that during my slumber I was praising Him. Twenty four hours later, I am still praising Him!

check these out...

Take a look at some of America's worst presidents...would you be suprised to see who made the list?
HERE, & HERE


The celebration of our Christian beginnings in Jamestown:
HERE

This is one of the most disgusting things I've seen! And we the taxpayers will foot the bill...
HERE

Thank you diversity police. Your persistence has now lead us to perversion and disgust. I am so glad we are a society that now thinks that all beliefs and all cultures are equal. It gives me such a warm fuzzy feeling knowing that events like this will be praised and celebrated by certain members of certain special interest groups whose sole purpose is to promote their own interests and not the interest of the people at large.
HERE

Two Peas in a Pod

There are two things causing quite a stir around town lately. And while these two things are separate in function and in essence, they are definite bedfellows and where one is, you will most certainly find the other. I'm sure you've heard by now the 'insensitive' remarks made by Ann Coulter at a large conservative rally. I'm also pretty sure you heard the news that ol' Al Sharpton got the other day. And I'm even guessing that you may have heard the latest from the great state of Virginia. Oh, and let's not forget the buzz word 'reparations.'

In case you're still wondering, the two companions I speak of are "political correctness" and "offense."

Now, I happen to be a big fan of Lewis Grizzard. And for those few out there who have ever cared to read my posts in the past, you probably would remember this.

I was having a Grizzard moment tonight. I felt the desire to pull off my bookshelf one of my personal favourites, "Southern by the Grace of God." Lo and behold, to what did appear to my eyes! I had quite forgotten all about this piece he wrote called "I wish I was...Politically Correct in Dixie"; I figured I'd just might as well share it with you. So, y'all sit back and read this. Oh, and if you dont find this politically correct enough and you take offense, well, I just dont know what to tell you. But I do know that 'sorry' ain't it!

{I certainly agree with all those who have protested the playing of "Dixie" at Southern football games.

Although slavery isn't mentioned in the song, it still makes people think of the Old South, where every white person owned African-American slaves.

"Dixie" is definitely a politically incorrect piece of music. Even the word is offensive to some, and I apologize to those who are offended by my use of it.

But I'm proud to say my alma mater, the University of Georgia, years ago rid itself of any connection with the song or the word you-know-what (see, I didn't use the word that time, as I despise offending people).

The Georgia band used to play the song at football games. But not anymore. The only place they still play the song is at the University of Mississippi. They also wave Confederate flags and they allow prayer before a football game.

I'm not certain how long it will be before members of the Speech Police move in and shut down such rephrehensible behavior, but it could be any day now.

Georgia not only stopped playing the song, it even changed the name of the band, formerly known as the Dixie Redcoat Band. It became simply the Redcoat Band.

That prompted my stepbrother, Ludlow Porch, the famous radio talk show personality, to fire off a letter to the editor suggesting the following: "I applaud the dropping of 'Dixie' from the name of the University of Georgia band, but let us not stop there.

How can we allow the word 'red' which stands for communism? And the word 'redcoat' itself is an affront to the memory of all those Americans who fought against the redcoats of England in the Revolutionary War.

And 'band.' Poncho Villa had a 'band' of desperadoes and we had to send brave young soldiers into Mexico after him. So 'band' should go, too, and that just leaves 'The', which is a dumb name for a large group of musicians, so I guess they're just out of a name altogether.

I believe if we really try we can wipe away all symbols of the Old South forever. There's a company in Savannah that makes Dixie Crystal Sugar. Sorry, it's just Crystal Sugar from now on, and don't give me any grief about it.

And there's even a Dixie highway in the South. It should be referred to from now on only as Highway. As in, 'Well, you take Highway, then go down three blocks and...' There are even people named Dixie, believe it or not. They will have to get new first names, or go by their middle names. And if anybody named Dixie lives on Dixie Highway, the Speech Police will likely demand they be shot.

And if the song and word 'Dixie' are symbolic of the Old South, I guess we ought to stop using 'Old South' as well. Instead of saying 'Old South' perhaps we can refer to it as 'Back Then,' and we can roll our eyes when we use it so everybody will know we aren't talking about when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, but when slaveholders used to go around singing songs like 'Dixie' and 'Eating Goober Peas.'

But wait. 'Eating Goober Peas' is a song from Back Then, too, so don't anybody dare play that at a football game.

Songs about killing innocent people, incidentally, are just fine.}

No Offense, but I'm taking Offense

OK, it's time. I got into another Lewis Grizzard moment tonight. It's been a few months since I sat down and read any of his work. So, I took one of my favourites, "Southern By the Grace of God" off the bookshelf and leafed through.

Everybody it seems is offended by something or another these days. I'm sure I've even offended some friends lately. I dont mean to, but somehow, I do.

Well, in light of this, I came across this piece by Mr. Grizzard, "No offense, but I'm taking offense." So, I shall share it with y'all. Oh, and please, dont be offended!

{I'm offended.

I never thought I would say that because I'm an easy-going type of guy who figures it's a lot less stressful not to let anybody get to me.

But these are the 90's, and getting offended is "in", like drinking bottled water, refusing to eat red meat, and cursing smokers.

Hardly a day passes that somebody doesn't make the news by getting offended.

Sister Souljah, the rap person, rapped about killing while people, and then she became offended because Bill Clinton said she was a racist for doing such a thing.

Jessie Jackson, who was born offended, also got offended by Mr. Clinton's remarks, so it was a 2-on-1 fastbreak, two offendees on one offender. Hardly sounds fair, but that's baseball these days.

And that brings up Native Americans becoming offended by Atlanta Braves fans' tomahawk chop and criminals becoming offended by the name Texas Rangers, since Texas Rangers are law enforcement people who nab a lot of criminals and send them to jail.

So why should I be left off the bandwagon of offendees? It's a free country, isn't it? Here's why I'm offended.

There was an article on the front page of the Atlanta newspaper the other day concerning suburban Clayton County promoting itself as a nice place to live in order to persuade more Atlanta area people to move there.

The second paragraph began: "Feeling that the county has been treated for years as metro Atlanta's redneck stepchild..."

That offended me.

In the first place, I know the orgin of the term "redneck" and several members of my family fell into that catagory.

"Redneck" got its start when ruralites came to town on Saturdays to buy feed, seed, and maybe a new pair of brogans.

These people made their living working in the fields under the hot sun growing food, a very worthwhile endeavor, and their necks often became sunburned.

Townfolk, who tend to be snooty, thought these people ignorant, uncouth and undesirable because they tended to drive pickup trucks, listen to the Grand Ol' Opry on the radio Friday nights, and to be humble.

They were easy to pick on, in other words. My grandfather was one of those people. He made his living from behind a mule, and his neck got red. He also liked Ernest Tubb, and I never heard him make a loud, bodacious statement of any kind.

He also was the most gentle, caring person I've ever known, and I'm glad he didn't live long enough to see the term applied to him become such a derisive label.

In the second place let us discuss the term "stepchild."

In the context it was used - redneck stepchild - it seemed to indicate someone of that description was a most undesirable individual.

I spring from those who worked the soil and became red of neck, and I had a stepfather, so I was a stepchild, and that makes me twice offended.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to ride around in my red blazer - a sort of pickup truck - and pout.}

Weakness in prayer-sometimes the perfect place to be

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And He who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will." Romans 8:26,27

The above Scripture has been going through my mind the past few days. It is such a comfort to know that during the times that I am unable to pray, where no words will come, when all I can do is cry, "LORD!", He is in fact petitioning the Father in my stead. His prayers are perfect and He prays "in accordance with God's will." How many times have I said "Your will be done" and still struggled to maintain my will! How patient and faithful He is to bear with my folly and continue to groan on my behalf in spite of my own impatience and unfaithfulness!

My Father and my God, I thank You for the way You have made a way for the longings of my heart will be filled! And I thank You for the intercession not just for my imperfect prayers, but for the way Jesus interceded in the course of my merry and miserable journey to Hell. You bring Life to dead places. You know the dead heart of Man, and in Your people You bring these dead hearts to Life! You have taken this heart that was once a cold piece of stone and transformed it into a temple in which the Spirit now resides. Apart from You I cannot be.