This week’s post is written by Becca Wellan, a member at Redeemer who makes bomb mac n’ cheese, constantly shows everyone pictures of her (very adorable) niece, and doesn’t actually quit everything. 

I’m a world class, A+, allstar quitter. Just hand me a shimmering gold trophy, a tye-dye tee-shirt and one of those awful generic coffee mugs (for my collection, of course). Let me just say, I’m a rockstar:

I quit swim lessons. Gymnastics. Ballet. Guitar. Piano. Climbing trees. Riding my bike. Skateboarding. Choir. Photography. I quit sports before I even started. I would’ve quit my education after high school, if my parents didn’t make me to go to college. Apparently they knew I had it in me. Apparently, they were right. But I could’ve studied education, human services or psychology; I quit before I started. 

I’ve spent my life on the dusty sidelines. Some people find it (or, me?) boring. But it’s a comfort thing, really. A second-hand savior from the crushing mental weight of failure, embarrassment, disappointment. Soon after trying something new, I give up when it gets too difficult or when, let’s face it, I’m just pretty awful. Or, I quit before I even start. 

You know, I’ve always believed, fiercely, that my worth is directly tied to how good I am at doing “fill-in-the-blank-with-just-about-anything-and-you’ve-got-me.” Identity struggles have always hit me hard, very hard, even leading to times of mild depression. And sometimes, giving up seems like the easiest, safest option. There is no razor-sharp pain in quitting. There are no scars. 

I can’t be the only one who’s felt this way. 

Can I tell you something wonderful? Something that, if we fully embrace it, will transform how we see the quitter inside us (trust me, it’s in all of us): 

Jesus. Never. Quit. 

Jesus didn’t quit while He hung on the cross, even though He could have.

Before time began, God had a plan to bring a messy bunch of broken, rebellious, hard-hearted people (who will give up all the time, by the way) into the greatest joy imaginable; forever spent in glorious heaven, where there will be no more pain and no more crying (Revelation 21:4). Where they will be finally free. Free from the suffering that will surround them in a sin-stained existence. 

But His plan included excruciating pain. Pain encompassing all the suffering anyone who trusts in Him will ever feel. 

He knew it, too. Before He was captured by Roman guards, He asked His Father if it’d be possible to quit, as fear and anguish gripped Him so hard He sweat drops of blood (Luke 22:44). But with you on His mind, He “set his face towards Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51). There, He hung from a cross, the weight of all your sin crushing Him hard, enduring the punishment that should have been yours. 

He set His face towards Jerusalem, determined. He “endured the cross,” because of “the joy that was set before Him” (Hebrews 12:1-2). Part of the joy set before Him was this: He knew that by His death and resurrection, He would save you. You’d finally be free from the haunting of hell, because on that night He would take your hell so you could have His heaven.

Nothing, not even the scorching flames of hell, would keep Him from running to come grab you in your mess and say “Do not fear! I have redeemed you. I have called you by name; you are mine!!” (Isaiah 43:1). 

But what if He gave up? What if He said, “she’s not worth the pain” or “he doesn’t deserve to be free”? 

Then our worth really would be directly tied to how good we are at “things” because this world is the the only thread we’d have to cling to. If He gave up on us, the love-shaped hole inside us would gape open until we die and spend eternity tortured. Either guilt would eat us alive or pride would blind us like a scorching sun and we’d arrive in hell with bloodied knees and unhealed wounds. 

But we can breathe, because Jesus didn’t quit. We can live, because Jesus didn’t quit. We have hope, unbreakable, because Jesus didn’t quit. 

Jesus never quit, so we are free.  

Because we have this truth to cling to, because Jesus took the punishment for all the times we quit, all the times we place our identity in our performance, there is no condemnation for us (Romans 8:1). Why do we condemn ourselves? 

We are no less valuable to God, whether we give up or become the best-ever at “fill-in-the-blank-with-something-awesome.” We are no less important because we don’t have the same talents, degrees, jobs or intellects our friends have. Our value is fixed, because we are given value simply by being His kids. No amount of talent or skill can change that. No amount of giving up can change that. 

The more I soak in the fact that Jesus didn’t quit on me, the more I’ve learned that it’s okay to sit on the dusty sidelines. I’ve also learned that it’s okay to try and fail. It’s okay to not be everything I think I should be. I don’t have to bear the mental weight of failure, embarrassment, disappointment. Why?

Our identity cannot ever be “failure,” even if we fail. Our identity cannot ever be “quitter,” even if we quit. And as we try and fail, or do not try at all, we can rest because this world is not all we have to hope in. 

“... and I’ll never, ever have to be afraid. For this one thing remains; Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me.” // One Thing Remains, Jesus Culture. 

This week's post by Brandon Adent, a deacon at Redeemer Church. He likes music, words, and words about music.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote on listening to sermons, about being attentive to what God is speaking through His Word and how to work towards getting the most out of it. As a part of that post, I touched on my fondness for paper Bibles. Specifically my paper Bible with rips, creases and coffee stains accumulated over nearly a decade of use.

It reminded me how much I love things I can feel.

We live in a world of automation, of comfort and ease. If you don’t own, don’t want to carry, or just straight up forgot a paper Bible on a Sunday, you can downIoad one to your phone in an instant. Most of the time, if you don’t want to go into the bank you don’t have to, and you can make a transfer in seconds. If you don’t want to read the newspaper, you can jump on the web to get the highlights, curated and tailored to your specific interests. If you don’t want to chop vegetables, you can get a machine that will do it for you, and do it better than you could.

God created us as physical beings to live and interact with physical objects, to create and steward and manage them for His glory and the good of everyone. And yet, it seems to me that we go to great lengths to rid ourselves of these cumbersome physical processes. Or, at least to get physical things that make life easier. I really, really don’t think that’s bad. But I do think we take them for granted, and miss out on opportunities to thank God for His provision.

Telling Stories

At many points in the gospels, we can hear Jesus speak in parables, basically stories with a moral or spiritual lesson. Often, He uses everyday objects and processes as illustrations. He references vine pruning, wine pressing, bird watching, bread baking, fishing, reaping and sowing. These are jobs that, if people didn’t do them themselves, they were at least aware of what they entailed.

Jesus then connects these mundane, arduous, physical processes, and uses them to say something about God and what He's doing.

When I eat bread I know that it tastes good, but I am so far disconnected from the physical process of making it that I completely forget the hours and care and ingredients went into it.

Some friends of mine recently started baking bread the old fashion way, beginning with the starter. They mix flour and water and let it sit for awhile, “feeding” it more flour as the starter expands until finally they have enough leaven to make a couple loaves of bread.

Because they’ve gone through the process of making bread and I haven’t, Jesus saying “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened”, is going to mean a lot more to them than it is to me. (Matt 13.33)

What We’re "Missing"

So, what am I suggesting? Just that we be mindful people that take the time to understand what we're missing, that know the time and effort it took someone to make what they did and be grateful to God for whatever agony they saved us.

For example, rather than write my own definition of a parable, I used Google to find a definition in about six seconds.

Google is easy, right? Just punch in what you want and see where it takes you. But, what process is that replacing?

Twenty years ago, my parents would have told me to go find a dictionary, which would have taken me a whole five minutes, and if we didn’t have a dictionary or it wasn’t in there, I would have had to ask everyone I knew until I found an answer. If those efforts proved fruitless, I would have had to carefully read all the parables, distill them down to their core elements, and come up with a definition myself. For what it’s worth, I think that process is really fun.

But I don’t have time to do it right now. So. Praise God for Google! He gave someone a vision for what internet searching could be, and gave them the mind to make it.

I’ve got another friend who’s really into woodworking, and he uses all hand tools to do it. One of his earlier projects was to make a workbench, crafted to his exact needs. I don't recall how long it took, but I know it was awhile. He came out the other side of the project with something he was proud of and a greater understanding of woodworking.

My friend loves woodworking. I do not. If I want a workbench, I will go buy a workbench. Shoot, if I want a wooden stool, I'll go buy a wooden stool.

But because of my friend, I would appreciate that stool more, knowing how much time and effort went into it, even if it was a five dollar stool machined by someone in China. Which, as an aside, is also crazy. Because that means someone figured out to make a stool that would cost me five dollars and make enough money to stay in business.

These are all examples of people, made in the image of God, doing what people do, being creators and stewards and managers of the world around them. We don’t always have the best of intentions when we do this, but God gives a lot of grace for our endeavors to work out for the benefit of others.

Being Thankful

I don't think we always have to go through the process of figuring out what we're "missing". Sometimes, we just don't care; we just need to get the thing done and move on. And that's okay.

One thing we should understand, though, is that God Himself didn't just send His Son to save us from an inconvenience, but from an impossibility.

The debt we owe for our sin is so great that no amount of mere human toil could overcome or pay it back. Jesus lived perfectly, died sacrificially, and rose victoriously for people who were and are unaware of what they owe apart from Christ.

For all of this, let's be marked by a constant gratefulness just to be alive, for the convenience and luxury we often take for granted, and the new life that we have in Jesus.

This post is by Ashley Bowie, Jesus lover, coffee mistress, wordsmith, in Christ.

I have always known that I wanted to be a writer. I remember constructing stories for my barbies from earliest memory. I remember doing my chores and having to redo them because I had been day dreaming when I was supposed to be dusting. I wrote my oscar acceptance speech for best original screenplay when I was about 12. I was supposed to win that around age 25. I was supposed to be a well established writer with a vacation home by now. While I'm at it I was supposed to have a husband and children by now also. I was supposed to win a thousand souls to the Lord, and I was supposed to fall asleep at night feeling satisfied that I was living the life I was supposed to.

It's an interesting thought isn't it? "Supposed to." It means, this was my expectation and it's not what I'm seeing. It means this is what was expected of me and I have not measured up. I think we have all been there. You feel like you're not doing enough or enough of the right things. You have an image in your head or heart of what you wanted to be, or you want to define yourself a certain way and you get frustrated because it’s not looking like you thought it would or coming as easily as you expected.

We all battle this in different ways. I was supposed to get that promotion, I was supposed to forgive that person, I was supposed to have succeeded, I was supposed to provide for all my family's needs, I was supposed to stop worrying, I was supposed to grow faster in this area. It means, in so many words, I've failed. And to be fair, we do fail, regularly and spectacularly. But the problem with "supposed to" is that it revolves primarily around our own expectations.

Last weekend I attended the Bible and breakfast event for the women of Redeemer. Our speaker Danielle Dow spoke directly out of Ephesians 1 and something she said hit home so much more clearly than it ever has before. She said, "your identity is in Christ." Earth shattering revelation there right? Maybe I'm a little slow because I think most of us only hear that about 10 times a week. Danielle agreed that it was not new information but went on pressing that our entire identity is in Christ.

It does not mean that your identity is hidden somewhere in Christ and that if you dig around long enough you can find the title you were meant for. As though you're putting on a name tag that says "disciple maker," or "mother," or "christian business executive." If you get a title it's this "In Christ." It's stamped on your soul, written on your heart and grafted into the fibers of your brain. If God is "I am" then I am "in Christ." This is my name, my dwelling place, my purpose and my life's ambition all rolled into one.

It's not like your home, where you sleep and eat and then go out into the world to do the things God has given us to do. It's more than clothes that we put on to show the world who we are and who we want to be known as. It's more than a job title with responsibilities, more than a relationship that we delight in. Being "in Christ" is your very skin. It's your heart and your heart's rhythm. It's neurons and fingerprints. In Christ is every piece of your identity.

I have shortened the passage that we walked through, but if you have time you should read the whole thing.

Ephesians 1:3-14
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us IN CHRIST with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us IN HIM before the foundation of the world, … according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. IN HIM we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, … making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth IN CHRIST as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things IN HIM, things in heaven and things on earth. IN HIM we have obtained an inheritance… so that we who were the first to hope IN CHRIST might be to the praise of his glory. IN HIM you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed IN HIM were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance…”

Look at the rich depth of description of all the things you are. If your name and all that you are made of is "in Christ" you are blessed, you are chosen, you are adopted, you are redeemed, you are a worshiper, you have an inheritance, You are sealed with the Holy Spirit. How much grander is this than a job title or a list of accomplishments? How much more satisfying is this knowledge than chasing down dreams of earthly glory?

When I recognize that my identity is "in Christ" pouring coffee for eight hours a day becomes worship and blessing, my life and work becomes disciple making work simply because I "In Christ" am doing it. Struggling through scriptures in search of understanding, or working through forgiving others becomes the holiness he is working out in me. There is no greater level to be reached by getting a promotion, no better version of myself to be found by adding a relationship. Sure these things are tools of God used for sanctification, but they don't redeem me any more, they don't increase my inheritance, they have no impact on my adoption, and they are not worthy of my worship.

This means that the only thing that I am "supposed to be" is IN CHRIST. There are commands in scripture to remain in Him to abide in Him, to listen to his voice and carry out his will. This does require action on our part and certainly we get it wrong from time to time. But it is your name to worship Him, it is your blood to be blessed in Him. So when you start feeling weighed down by all the things you thought your life would be or look like by now just remember that who you are is IN CHRIST, and as you remain and abide, he is guiding you to exactly what you are supposed to be.

Hello, I am in Christ and my name is Ashley

Current blog post written by Becca Wellan. A devoted and caring friend who loves coffee and talking about Jesus. Oh, and did I mention she loves coffee?

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you. He will never permit the righteous to be moved.” - Psalm 55:2. 

It’s a Sunday morning, and a friend of mine asks me how I’m doing. I’m tempted to smile, say “I’m good!” and walk away. But, the word “good” tastes bitter on my lips, and I swallow it, along with all the other words I can’t say. With sincerity and compassion, he tells me I can give him an honest answer.

“Honestly...” I look out the window as though the grey sky is listening, too, as her sobs fall in droplets down the stained glass. I start sobbing, too. 

“I feel terrible.” 

He could have turned away. He could have awkwardly muttered “I’m sorry,” and turned to someone more cheerful, a conversation more comfortable. Instead, he prayed for me. Another friend prayed with us. Then he offered to help me with my practical needs so that I could get through the day. 

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you.” 

Promises like this have always been mildly abstract to me. Jesus will sustain me? How? I always pictured a wave of superhuman strength taking over my emotions, crashing through every last drop of weakness. 

But this never happened. 

Encourage
Verb | en·cour·age | To inspire with courage or hope

In a moment when I felt like my heart was being crushed by calloused hands, and I stood completely helpless, I grew courageous, by degrees, when my brothers and sisters in Christ stood with me. Amidst my great fears, I felt hope. They didn’t try to fix my situation; they didn’t talk too much. They didn’t use Jesus band-aids and Christian cliches (ex. Jesus loves you, you’ll be okay). 

But, they held me together. They listened, they prayed, they reminded me of the goodness of God. They reminded me of His power to restore lost souls and heal broken hearts. 

That day, in a hundred ways, my brothers and sisters were a source of incredible strength to me. Strength I could never have found on my own. Strength found only in speaking, hearing and believing the truths of Jesus. 

Through the Christ-like compassion of God’s people, God Himself sustained me another day.

At the heart of the gospel lies the glorious reality of friendship. Through His sacrificial death on the cross in the place of hopeless people, Jesus, a friend of sinners, brought us into a deep, immovable friendship with the creator of the galaxies (Mark 2:13-17). 

We shattered our friendship with sin. He sacrificed Himself to bring us back. 

And because He is with us now, the church is called to be God’s active, hope-filled, light-giving presence in the world. Because we are restored to friendship with Him, we are called to “bear one another's burdens” (Galatians 6:2), to “encourage one another” (1 Thessalonians 5:11) and to “be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4:32). 

He does not promise to miraculously heal us or change our circumstances though we wait for Him to come in waves of superhuman strength. Rather, He often shows us His grace and boundless love through other believers. God’s people are God’s presence in a broken world. 

FREE Ice cream!
That is a great way to start any conversation. If you need help moving, you start off by offering free ice cream before you ask for favors. If you want people to come to your charity event, you promise them free ice cream before you say anything else. If you want someone to read a blog about self-discipline, you promise them free ice cream at the end.

Self-discipline is not one of the darlings when it comes to character traits. In a culture that grows steadily younger as we age, self-discipline feels like drudgery. Most of us can maintain some level of discipline in one or two areas for a small measure of time. "I'm dieting for 21 days, and then I get a break"No TV for a month and then binge fest 2016." When you're discussing your weekend with co-workers, no one says "I was really self-disciplined, I didn't overspend or over drink, or Netflix and yoga pants for eleven straight hours."

We like to talk about compassion, and kindness and grace and peace. We share with one another the things we accomplished for the Kingdom, the dreams and longings of things we want to do, projects we want to be a part of, and the moments we could feel the presence of the Father. We like to talk about ice cream. 

Self-discipline is like broccoli.

Genesis chapter 5 is an account of the generations from Adam to Noah. It follows a simple pattern; "When Seth had lived 105 years he fathered a son, after that son he lived 807 years and had other sons and daughters and then he died. All the days of Seth were 912 years." That’s a paraphrase, but it follows the same pattern for ten generations, except for one. 
Genesis 5:21-24 "When Enoch had lived 65 years, he fathered Methuselah. Enoch walked with God after he fathered Methuselah 300 years and had other sons and daughters. Thus, all the days of Enoch were 365 years. Enoch walked with God, and he was not, for God took him." 

What is the difference between just "living and dying" and "walking with God?" I think I know. Broccoli. I'm sure you have seen the evidence in your own heart, so this won't come as a shock to anyone. We have a tendency just to do whatever is easiest. Maintaining a close relationship with God is not the easy thing to do. 

Every day we are bombarded with messages that tell us we are the most important thing, our desire is what is most important, and our immediate happiness is the key factor in every decision. This is slavery. To chase after desire that culminates in itself, only to have to chase something bigger and brighter next time. You think you're chasing down happiness or fulfillment, you think you're headed for your ice cream, but all you end up with is a stone cold block of ice. 

I think even we believers fall for this scheme sometimes. We want the songs that make us feel good, the sermons that inspire us to chase our dreams, and little chats that start and end with "I'm fine thanks, how are you?" But the life of the believer is frequently compared to farming. Our life is hands in the dirt, sweat on your brow, and broccoli on your plate kind of life. 

I’m not always great at it, but I’ve learned a few ways to prep and eat broccoli over the years that are quite delicious.

1. Study with fellow believers. No matter what’s going on it helps to know we are not alone.

2. Set an alarm reminder to pray. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, at first, set your alarm to a time of day you know you usually have a few minutes of free thinking and dedicate that time to pray. 

3. Set your bible on top of your phone at night. Seriously, if it’s the first thing you touch in the morning, maybe it will help you remember to crack it open and dig in.  

Self-discipline can sometimes feel like legalism. And it can be easy to talk yourself out of practical steps if you look at it that way. The funny thing is, though, the more you study, the more you pray and engage in Christian community, the more you want to. What a gracious gift to us! It’s like discovering that you really do like to exercise or eat healthy food. Even if you only give it a few minutes a day, at first, God will still hear and still help. 

We know that God saved us through Jesus. He saved us from a life of fruitless chasing after desires of the flesh to a new life bursting with the fruit of the spirit. 
Galatians 5:22-23 "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things, there is no law."

Our tree needs to be tended to with prayer and meditation and diligent study. Galatians 5:25 "If we live by the Spirit let us keep in step with the Spirit." Being prone to take the easy way and to wander away from our savior, it makes sense that by His Spirit we are called to keep in step with the Spirit. Keep walking, keep digging, keep pruning and keep at it. 

The truth is, God sees our wicked hearts, sees how we are making a mess of things just trying to get what we want, He rescues us from the mess and puts true joy in our hearts. He pulls us out of the wreckage and replaces the shadow with substance, the plastic toys for the real deal. There's your ice cream; you just have to eat your broccoli too.

-This weeks post is by Ashley Bowie, a member at Redeemer. She pours an excellent cup of coffee, and loves words the way some people love their pets, or children.

This week’s post is by Brandon Adent, a deacon at Redeemer Church. He likes music, words, and words about music.

As the crow flies, baby, well I ain’t so far from you
but since I don’t have wings I can’t get home as fast as I want to

I remember the first time I tucked into a Rory Gallagher album; I’d never heard sounds like that from a guitar. Squeaks and squawks and chirps accompanied each tone, the kinds of sounds you can only get when you’re really going for it and know exactly what you’re doing. They had an urgency and a transparency to them, an odd mix of happiness and grief, and a willingness to face and embrace both of them, wherever that took him.

This was what Rory was known for: long, intense shows (over three hours long) playing his heart out.

Rory could really play, but he could write and sing, too. Particularly in his earlier records, he had joy in his voice. You could tell he was having the time of his life.

Even with so much joy, his songs talked so much of pain. particularly a song called “Too Much Alcohol”. The story is pretty simple: his lady is driving him nuts, and he medicates with pure alcohol:

Whiskey make me drowsy
And gin can make you think
Well, a common cold can kill ya
But, my baby turned me to drink

I went down on 31st Street
To pick up a jug of alcohol

Yeah, I told the guy to put in some water
But he wouldn't put in a drop at all
One hundred per cent alcohol
Well, let me have some

This kind of thing was pretty central to the blues lifestyle. Not surprisingly, a lot of these guys didn’t live to be very old (Rory himself died at 47) and those that do aren’t in great shape in later life. They lived a hard life, some by choice, others because those were the cards they were dealt.

Some may dislike the blues, but I love them. I like to be happy, but there’s no sense in faking; sometimes, happy song just won’t do. Occasionally, the biblical thing to do would be to sing the blues.

The blues have hope at their core. The big question, though, is where we put it. Do we look for comfort in God (in Whom it's perfectly found), or do we look for it in drink, sex, money, or power which can never give us the rest for which we long?

The Hope We Have

In the case of a certain psalmist, the writer of the 137th psalm, the source of the turmoil comes not from relationship trouble, but a longing for home:

By the waters of Babylon,
there we sat down and wept,
when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there
we hung up our lyres.
For there our captors
required of us songs,
and our tormentors, mirth, saying,
“Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

Jerusalem has been destroyed. The psalmist is being held captive in exile, and forced to sing one of the celebratory songs of the temple, and they’re just sick of it. The psalmist would rather lose the ability to make music than to sing one more happy song from Jerusalem.

How shall we sing the Lord’s song
in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand forget its skill!
Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,
if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
above my highest joy!

Even the happiest songs of Zion are sad.

At the same time, though, the psalmist knows they can’t forget Jerusalem, and they don’t want to. They miss those songs and the city in which they were sung, when they could sing these songs happily and with joy, as they were meant to be.

Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites
the day of Jerusalem,
how they said, “Lay it bare, lay it bare,
down to its foundations!”
O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed,
blessed shall he be who repays you
with what you have done to us!
Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones
and dashes them against the rock!

Just when we thought it wouldn’t get any darker, like Rory being willing to drink poison to numb the pain, the psalmist prays for the violent death of their oppressor’s children, and cries out for justice from the only One who can truly administer it impartially.

Being Honest

That’s pretty dark, right? What would you do if you heard someone pray that way? The more “spiritual” thing to pray for is deliverance from oppression and grace and mercy for the oppressors.

Often, that’s what we should do, but not always. The psalmist is just being honest about their feelings and desires, and they’re sick of putting on a show, both literally and figuratively.

When I’m not doing so well emotionally, I often feel that I have to put on a similar show. I have to pretend like everything is great when it’s not. I have to smile and laugh and be happy when I just want to curl up in a corner and cry.

The Bible says that sometimes a happy song just isn’t going to work. As much fun as it is to sing happy songs, there’s value in expressing sadness, too, particularly when that sadness drives you to the Savior.

I’m not saying completely remove the filter. There’s definitely a line between honesty and just spilling things, a fine line though it might be. Honesty is inviting people to see what’s troubling you, as opposed to spilling your troubles all over whether or not it’s welcomed. Spilling quickly turns to wallowing, either on one’s own or otherwise.

Look for the Light

Many blues songs “resolve” at wallowing, which is really to say they don’t resolve, at least in a way that lifts us from the mire for good. That's sort of the point, really. We hope for something better than what we have, but there seems to be no one or nothing that can save us from where we are.

However, there is hope, and the psalmist knows where to put it; in the Lord, who He is, what He's done, and what He will do.

While God waits awhile to act on the psalmist’s prayer, He does. Kingdoms rise and fall, and Edom and Babylon are no exception.

Ultimately, though, God sent his own Son to be crushed for the wickedness of the world, including sins of ours, those of Edom, and those of Babylon, so that all who trust in Him will be able in inhabit a city and world so beautiful that it makes Jerusalem look like a slum.

Even in the blues, there can be joy. Even in the blues, there is hope.