Church music has been a battleground for ages. I’m guessing that around 900 AD, the pipe organ was a new-fangled, risqué addition to services that caused every medieval curmudgeon to scowl at how the young people were trying to change things up. More recently, Cory Asbury’s ‘Reckless Love’ has sparked a bit of debate among believers.
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Being called a control freak doesn’t hurt so much if you’re not one.
Oh, but if you know your heart has struggled there for so stinking long, that label can mangle you. It becomes a second heartbeat, one with palpitations. Oh no! I’ve been found out! Red alert! And what does a control freak do when she feels threatened? We typically grasp for more control. If things can be just so, we’re safe. The world will spin on. Is this a foreign concept to you? Stop and consider the crushing weight it might add to your daily life, believing that everything depends on your. getting. it. all. right. It really is a brutal cycle that bullies self just as much as it bullies others.
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Liar, liar, pants on fire! (Some random line about a telephone wire…)
Kids chant about obvious falsehood, tiny truth radars built into their DNA. They can often spot a lack of genuine character a mile away. Sadly, though, we grow out of our ability to quickly spot lies around us, and nowhere is the resulting damage more significant than in our souls. There is a liar out to get us, prowling around seeking whom he may devour. Inattentive hearts are easy prey for him.
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This summer, I found a stranger in my backyard: a baby bluebird. He was sitting on our rock wall looking slightly dazed and not at all uneasy at my presence, though his mom started screeching at me from the tree above when I approached. We have a few stray cats that come and go in our neighborhood, and since this bird was too young to fly, I did a little research about how to best take care of the situation.
Apparently touching a baby bird will chase its parents off, dooming it to loneliness and dependence on people (or death by the formidable, razor-clawed Pumpkin if left alone). My only option was to give the baby’s parents space to come rescue him and to shoo off Pumpkin and his evil gang in the meantime. I’m sure you’ll sleep better knowing the little fellow was eventually gathered up to his family and is now making a happy racket with the best of them.
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