Scott Freeman

There is nothing more polarizing in my community right now than the presence of a group of protesters in Crawford.
After much thought and discussion we decided not to go to Crawford this weekend because of safety concerns for our children. But in the midst of this political divide I find myself firmly in the camp of Cindy Sheehan.
My position is not a political one. I write as neither a Republican or a Democrat.
My politics do not determine my theology.
Instead, my theology determines the way I believe politics should be.
I am against the war. However, I know that there are godly, devout people who sincerely disagree with me.
I do not support the protest because I believe that without alternatives there is no point. I also don’t support the protests of protesters.
However there are some things, to me, that are more important than political expediency: being Christ in the hearts and lives of people.

George W. Bush once said that his favorite philosopher is Jesus. He has been consistent in his message that his faith informs his decisions as leader of the free world.
I do not for a moment question the sincerity of his faith. I believe him to be a deeply devout man. That does not mean that I agree with all of his policy decisions. Nor do I believe that he is without fail.
One reason that I cannot be a Democrat is their seemingly unswerving commitment to marginalize religious thinking. As evidenced in the last election, when Democrats do turn to religious speak it seems forced and nothing more than an pandering for votes.
Likewise, I disagree with an Imperialistic Eschatology that many Republicans espouse.
So, I am a man without a party. But I am a man with a Kingdom. And the way I live my life must be more eternally-focused than merely here and now. I am not an American Christian but a Christian who happens to be American.

As a Christian, I believe it is the moral imperative for George Bush to meet with Cindy Sheehan. Scripture is clear, that if someone has a problem with you, you go to them and try to resolve the matter. I don’t see an exemption based upon position or title.
As a minister, if someone is offended by something that I say or do, then I have a responsibility to go to them and allow them the opportunity to be heard. It may not change anything. It may not alleviate their concerns or win them over to my point of view but it will be a sign of faithful sincerity to community and Christian love.
Most Christians I know believe that to be true. Yet for some reason we are quick to dismiss this principle in this situation. This to me is an example of a political theology rather than theological politics. The tale wagging the dog, so to speak.
Some people don’t want the President to meet with Cindy because it would begin a “slippery slope” that would cause other people to line up and demand the same. “Slippery Slope” arguments are argumental fallacies, an attempt to avoid solutions by painting worst-case scenarios. Even if more people did want to meet with him isn’t that one of the advantages of being a part of a representative democracy? That the people have access to their representatives?
Some are against the meeting because they have fallen prey to one of the greatest divides that our country faces: hatred of those with divergent viewpoints. But that is folly. There are good people in support of this war. And equally good people who cannot justify it. There are good Democrats and good Republicans. Let’s stop the either/or non-sense and talk with one another.
The Christian thing to do is to meet with her. It is not the politically expedient thing to do, but there is a higher, nobler purpose. We cannot be just if we will not be true.
To me, our positions on the war are irrelevant here. There is the duties of a Christian first, president second commingled with the purpose and intent of a representative democracy.
I mean, come on, if a woman decides to camp-out throughout the month of August in Central Texas where the average high is about 348 degrees, it seems that great opportunities abound to act in good faith toward one another. To do, as GW said in December of 2000 to reach across party lines and be a healer.
Do the Christian thing, Mr. President. Meet with Cindy.

A friend this week described me this week on another blog as “an evangelical Christian preacher in Waco, Texas (and yet, not a wacko!)”
I view that as a great compliment.
I have had several people ask me recently why I tend to be self-deprecating in my writings. Why I tend to belittle myself for the sake of a point.
Allow me an opportunity to discuss this point.
First and foremost, we must have an understanding of what it means to be self-deprecating. Typically, it means that one undervalues their talents and abilities.
I believe an even greater understanding of self-deprecating is the idea that people undervalue their talents and abilities in an effort to produce just the opposite–the building up of an ego through the propensity of people to affirm those who are down on themselves.
In other words, if one individual puts himself down, he can count on others to build him up, capitalizing on a perverse, ironic need for affirmation.

I hope I don’t do that. I hope that my need for accolades and compliments are not so fleshly that I would stoop to such obvious tactics for a few passing compliments.
I hope that I wouldn’t go to such ironic lengths for a little ego-stroking.
But, I probably do just that.
I (sinfully) covet affirmation.
I tend to relish the “good jobs” and “way to go’s” that others will throw my way.

But, and here is the important point, I am not striving to be self-deprecating.
My sincere attempt it to be honest:
I am a sinner.
I am a sinner saved by the grace of God.
I am a sinner saved by the grace of God, not by what I am or strive to be.
And I must continually acknowledge that or I will be consumed by the pagan desire for self-recognition, self-adulation and self-aggrandizement.
If that is what I become then God is no longer glorified and honored in my life. And my friend would have to change her opinion of me.

You see, I must be honest and sincere. I know what I am made of.
I know that I am still undone.
God is not finished with me. And I am stubborn enough that He will not be finished with me this side of Heaven.
I know that any abilities I have come from Him.
If I can preach, it is His gift to me, not due to my own proclivity for oration. That’s why I get sick to my stomach every Sunday morning.
If I can teach it is because He blesses me with insight and understanding. For I know that I’m not that particularly smart or insightful.
If I can offer sound counsel it is because He has blessed me with the ultimate Counselor in working through my own struggles and temptations.

I am who I am only because of I Am.
I believe that the reason many non-Christians fail to receive the good news of Jesus Christ is that we often communicate an unappealing message, an unwelcoming spirit, and an uncompassionate superiority.
Too often we have positioned ourselves as having all the answers instead of being in direct relationship with the Answer.
We have communicated our holiness rather than His Holiness.
We have displayed our sanctimony rather than His Sacrifice.
Our superiority rather that His Sovereignty.

And as a result, many curious seekers, despite knowing that who we believe in is Real and True, turn away because we have failed to be real and true.

Let’s be honest with each other.
Let’s be open with our struggles.
Let’s be transparent with a searching world.
And in so doing may they see, not us, but the Christ in us.

May they see that we don’t have it all together but we know the One who can hold us together. That His strength is made perfect in our weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). Paul had it right there. If we brag, let’s brag of our weaknesses so God’s power can be seen in us.

You see, I hope my friend can say that I am not a wacko because she sees Jesus in me.
Not some feigned moral superiority but the blood of Jesus.
That I seek to love others because Jesus loves me.
That I strive to be compassionate with others because Jesus is compassionate with me.
That I am patient when others see things differently because He is so patient with me.

If we show people all that we are then, eventually, they will be disappointed. And they may lose faith in our message.
But, if through our weaknesses, we embody the person of Christ, then, maybe, they will see Him more clearly.
And isn’t that what we are called to do: display Him to the world?
My life’s goal, my truest desire is that when people see me, they see Jesus. If I lift up myself they will never see Him.

Bear with me, this will not be an easy post to write.

A couple of years ago just before the Iraq war began I taught a class entitled, “Is It Right to Fight?” I took the idea of a Christian Just War theology to convice my Sunday school class that not only was it morally acceptable to invade Iraq it was imperative.
For a long time I held unswervingly to that position.
Despite any problems that we encountered I was firmly pro-war.
When the quagmire grew deeper I dug my heels in deeper.
My rhetoric was constant.

“We are defending the right to liberty for all.”
“Al Gore would have handed the country to Osama”
“No WMD’s? So what, Saddam would have had them eventually.”

I was a poster-boy for U.S. aggression.

But along the line something began to change inside of me.
I began to question the reasons for going to war.

No, better said, I began to question MY reasons for going to war.
The answers I found were not comforting.
They did not make me proud.

Instead, they shamed me deeply.
My reasons for going to war with Iraq was not because of WMD’s
It was not because I was afraid of Saddam.
It was not to ensure liberty and justice for all.

My reason for going to war with Iraq was because I hated them.
I hated their religion.
I hated their rhetoric.
I hated all that they stood for.

When Muslims flew planes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon I seethed in anger and hatred toward those who would infringe upon our way of life.
When my wife had to fly alone with our newborn out of Detroit on a plane full of young Middle-Easterners I despised them and their turbans.

I not only wanted to invade Iraq, I wanted to head to the other “Axis of Evil” countries when we were done.

I repent.
Carrie Newcomer has a song titled, “I Heard an Owl.” One lyric of the songs says, “Don’t tell me hate is ever right or God’s will.”

How true that is. God never legislated hate.
It’s a pretty poor justification for going to war.

The realization for me is this: I must learn to love more.
I must stop hating those who look differently and believe differently than I do.

I must be as Jesus demanded and love my enemies.

For this reason, I personally oppose the war.
Now, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m talking about my own reasons not that of anyone else.
I am not even making a statement as to the rightness or wrongness of American forces in Baghdad. Please understand that I support our troops and hope that every one of them will come home soon and come home safely.

But my reasons for this war are wrong. They were borne out of hatred. A hatred that does not find its genesis out of the character and nature of Christ.

I will pray.
I will pray for our troops in harm’s way.
I will pray for the soldier whose wife lies in a hospital bed thousands of miles away. I will pray that our government will truly value it’s citizens and allow him to return home to be by her side.
And I will pray for the citizens of Iraq.
I will pray that God will replace my hatred with love.
The love that imitates the Christ who died for them.

I am the youngest of five children. Three brothers, a sister and then me.

I am quite a bit younger than the rest of them. My two oldest brothers were practically out of the house when I came along.

I was closer to the middle child, Steve, and my sister Cindy growing up.

They were still around.

Out of all of us, I believe Steve had the greatest talent, greatest ability and greatest intellect.

It seemed that promise was his middle name.

Unfortunately, Steve had a tendency to make bad choices.

Over the years, we endured conflicts, fights, scrapes with the law, uncertainty of whether he would emerge intact on the other side, and anger at his propensity to live a willfully rebellious life.

Man, he could infuriate me.

He could disappoint me.

But nobody could make me laugh like he could.

Nobody could make me feel more special.

He was my big brother and I loved him.

Because of that I always prayed that he would get his act together.

About a decade ago, I truly thought that was happening. He seemed to have found love and purpose.

Then tragedy struck. My brother was in the wrong place at the wrong time and wrongfully accused of something that he did not do.

He was arrested, convicted and sentenced to 40 years in prison.

The charge was a joke, the evidence was non-existence and the punishment was deplorable.

But, in spite of all that, he was sent to prison.

This morning I stood with by family, friends and Steve to request that he be granted clemency. That the good governor would look at the case, the lack of evidence, and the fact that Steve has served 9 years and release him.

I am hopeful that will happen. It is a part of my daily prayers.

As I looked around today at all the inmates waiting to be seen by the clemency board I was struck by two things:

1. Steve had, by far, the largest show of support from family and friends of anybody there. About 50 inmates waited alone. That Steve has such a group of cheerleaders is testament to faith, prayer, family and church. When he is released he will not be alone but surrounded by people who believe in Him. I was saddened for those waiting alone. It made me think of Thornton Wilders play, The Angel That Troubled the Waters. In that play Wilder describes those “broken on the wheels of living.” I am thankful that Steve has people beside him.
2. All of them were harboring hope in an atmosphere that seldom encourages one to look too far ahead. A chance to redefine themselves. A chance to begin again.

My brother said several months ago that he does not want to be defined by one single incident in his life.

Living the solitary existence of penitentiary life it is easy to see how that could be a possibility. To withstand the scrutiny and embarrassment of pleading for freedom is something few of us will ever have to experience.

I, too, want the same thing. I do not want Steve to be defined by his incarceration.

When I think of him I think of so much more than that:

Of talking to me like a person when others saw me as a kid.

Of making me feel important enough to teach me to play pinball.

Of teaching me the words to Boz Scaggs’ “Lowdown.”

Of taking me to see Phantom of the Paradise with Paul Williams and not laughing at me when I got scared.

For introducing me to my first sports hero: Pete Maravich.

I don’t identify my brother when prison garb. I identify him for what he is.

My big brother.

He will always be my big brother.

My prayer is that he will be released soon. I pray that the governor will grant him clemency.

My main prayer, however, is that he will find that identity he is looking for.

I hope he finds that identity in Jesus Christ.

For it is through Him and Him only that any of us will ever be set free.

That, is the ultimate clemency.

I have a confession to make.
It’s not something I am necessarily proud of but I feel I need to come clean.
I love reading blogs.
I love seeing into the minds of other people and their views on life. I would link more, including some of my favorites, but it seems that some people have a little bit more of a “potty-mouth” than I am comfortable with.
However, one of my favorites is called postsecret. The idea for this site is that people write a secret confession on a postcard and mail it in.
Then their deep dark secrets are posted, anonymously, for the entire world to read.
Some are humorous:

• “I’m Afraid to Answer the Telephone” (No, Tracy, I did not send that one in)
• “I waste office supplies because I hate my boss.”
• “I sit in public and pretend to read, but I’m actually eavesdropping on your conversation.”

Most of the confessions, though, are eye-opening and candid:

• “I am ashamed to have felt such joy after my abortion.”
• “I am a Southern Baptist pastor’s wife. No one knows that I do not believe in God.”
• “I cut myself to kill the pain.”
• “I wished on a dandelion for my husband to die.”

As I sit transfixed weekly reading the new batch of secrets I can’t help but be amazed at the magnitude of pain that inflicts this world.
People are hurting.
They need the opportunity to unburden themselves of the inner weight that they carry.
They need a sense of resolution and closure.
And, invariably, I hang my head each week and think “It should be the church that they go to to ease their load.

Scripture is clear about confession. It is not a suggestion.
It is not just a good idea.
It is a command: “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.”
But for many people the church is the last place they would go for healing. For forgiveness.

The one place they could go and find the One who will gladly take their yoke is too often unused. I know this for a fact. I offer an invitation weekly for people to come and seek forgiveness.
They very rarely do.
We, in the church, have lost the beauty of confession.
Of praying for one another for healing and peace.

Why is that? I believe there are several reasons:

1. We fear the judgment of people will win out over their compassion.
2. We fear that forgiveness will be withheld in favor of condemnation.
3. We doubt that the power of prayer can really do anything for our situation.
4. We bristle at more well-meaning people telling us how to improve our lives all the while failing to listen to the extent of our pain.
5. We fear being vulnerable because we fear being hurt.

We, in the church, need a wake-up call. We need to reclaim the primacy of confession in our fellowship.
We need to foster an environment of forgiveness where people will know that they can find hope and peace.
We need to learn to share our own struggles in a community of compassion.
We need to learn to stop doling out advice and our little nuggets of wisdom and start grieving with the tortured souls that are seeking comfort. (Not that advice is bad, mind you. But it must always be given to the receptive heart in the context of compassionate community.)
We need to learn, once again, to be a refuge in the storm of tortured living.

If we can do that then we can make a difference. We can touch the lives of:

• The college student mired in debt from on-line poker.
• The young girl harboring the shame of promiscuity.
• The widower carrying the guilt of words left unsaid.
• The father struggling with the weight of being a good provider.
• The mother struggling with patience.
• The brother or sister struggling with issues of belief.

To confess is a risky proposition. It is to step off the precipice into a void of uncertainty, unsure how painful the landing will be.
It is to risk judgment and condemnation. Dirty looks and hushed conversations.
What if we could be a safe place for the confessor to land?
What if we would be people who would listen, love and grieve with them?
What if we would extend to them the blessed hope of the peace of Christ?
They wouldn’t need a post-card and a postage stamp anymore.
They would have the body of Christ.
Let’s confess to one another.

When I started writing on this site I made a silent agreement with myself:
No politics.
It’s just too messy and all I will do is fire people up when there are others more qualified than myself to deal with sticky hot-button issues of the day.
I’m not sure how much longer I can keep that agreement.
The way it is shaping up only for about another sentence or two.
For my heart is breaking. And I feel that we are repeating the same mistakes of the past.
In 1994 the African nation of Rwanda lost over 800,000 people due to tribal fighting.
America did nothing.
I was 26 years old and knew next to nothing about what was taking place on the other side of the world.
When I did learn of the atrocities I brushed it off as not my problem.
“We can’t bail out the entire world.”
“Let’s offer a hand-up and not a hand-out”
And precious souls, the least of these, found themselves abandoned and broken on the unforgiving wheels of living.
In 1998 Bill Clinton went to Rwanda and apologized for our blindness:
We did not act quickly enough after the killing began. We should not
have allowed the refugee camps to become safe havens for the killers.
We did not immediately call these crimes by their rightful name:
genocide. We cannot change the past. But we can and must do everything
in our power to help you build a future without fear, and full of
hope…. We owe to all the people in the world our best efforts to
organize ourselves so that we can maximize the chances of preventing
these events. And where they cannot be prevented, we can move more
quickly to minimize the horror.

Although no excuse exists for not intervening, the pledge to be more vigilant in the future is the least that we can do.
Yesterday, after a 6 month silence on the issue, President Bush acknowledged that there is genocide taking place in the Darfur region of Sudan.
400,000 people are dead.
2.5 million people are without homes.
Now we must make sure that we stand up. That our government is not once again silent to genocide in a nation that has no money to give us, no precious resources that we covet.
We must make sure that this time we value human life not just what human life can give us.
This is not a Republican issue.
This is not a Democrat issue.
The blame does not go solely to Bill Clinton for our un-involvement in Rwanda.
The blame will not go solely to George W. Bush for our un-involvement in Darfur.
We must stand up and make our voices heard.
For this is a Christian issue.
It smacks at the heart of who we are called to be.
To be hope for the hopeless.
Provide homes for the homeless.
Salvation for the lost and downtrodden.
And a voice for those whose voices have been muted by the cacophony of war.

I am ashamed that I have been so silent in my cries for social justice.
That I have been content to live a prosperous life while others struggle for survival.
That I have relegated to the government the work of developing a heart for those in need.

I don’t know where I got the idea that dropping a tithe in the collection basket was giving enough.
I don’t know where I got the idea that preaching as a career was service enough.
I don’t know where I got the idea that loving my family was loving enough.
I don’t know where I got the idea that it was solely the responsibility of Washington D.C. to tend to the needs of others.

I do know that I did not get this ideas from Jesus.
I did not get these ideas from the example that He set.
He loved people. He gave all of Himself.
I must endeavor to do the same.
Will you? Go to Sojourners and Darfur Genocide to learn more.
Together we can make a difference.
Thank you for listening to me.
Now back to the regularly scheduled stuff.

Chloe, tomorrow you turn 4. As I sit here tonight among all the presents we have for you I can’t help but think about the tremendous gift that you have been to me.

I wish I could freeze this moment and keep you my little 3 year old forever.

I wish that I could lengthen every smile, amplify every hug and extend every “Daddy, I love you” until I was certain that I would never forget the joy of being your daddy or the preciousness of this time in your life that we have together.

I can’t help but think tonight of all the things I want to share with you. All of the things that I want to teach you.

About the love of Jesus. The importance of faith. The blessing of family.

As I think of these life lessons I realize that YOU have already taught ME so much.

• You have taught me to be a better husband because I never want you to feel the pain of a broken home. I never want you to question the sanctity of marriage and the importance of a Christ-centered relationship.
• You have taught me to be a better man because I never want you to have to search for the qualities you need in a father in someone else. I never want you to have to settle in relationships just to feel accepted.
• You have taught me to be a stronger Christian for I know that your perceptions of Jesus will be primarily formed through your perceptions of me. I know that your burgeoning faith will have much to do with whether or not daddy lives what he preaches.
• You have taught me to be more patient as I watch you learn.
• You have taught me to be more sensitive. Although I am prone to shrug off any perceived slight or injustice no pain is more acute or real as when you are hurting.
• You have taught me to laugh with your love of life and light-up-the-room smile.
• You have taught me to love with the love of Christ. I would lay down my life for you without the slightest hesitation.

Yes, I do have so much to teach you but it pales in comparison with what you have already been able to get through this hard head of mine.

I am so blessed to be your daddy. To see your love, laughter and spirit. To witness firsthand your love, care and compassion for others.

To stand by your side as you experience the joys, triumphs, disappointments and heartbreaks of life.

I get to learn how to be a daddy because you are the first.

Thankfully I have a great teacher.

Thank you for being my little girl.

Thank you for teaching me so much.

I love you,

daddy

Today, my precious daughter turns 2. Cassie, before you were born I questioned how much I could love you. I was afraid that all the love that I could muster was spent on your older sister. But it was not long before you wrapped yourself around my heart. That is where you have been from the moment I saw you and where you will always remain.
I thank God every day that He brought you to me. With you, life is never boring and I never question the presence of love in this world.
I thank God that you have always been a daddy’s girl. From those first few months when I was the only one who could put you to sleep to the present when you give me that precious smile and laugh that you share with no one else I am shaken to the core to know how much YOU love ME.
I thank God that you have your own mind. Your streaks of stubbornness and obstinacy, although difficult at times, gives me comfort that you will not be a blind follower in life.
I thank God that you love to laugh. Whenever I get bogged down with the seriousness of my calling, you lighten the load.
I thank God that you have such a sharing spirit. Your willingness to give love and laughter to others is truly Christlike. May you foster that for the rest of your life.

In just a few short weeks you will no longer be the baby. We will welcome your baby sister into the world and you will become the dreaded middle child.
The new baby will consume most of our attention where once it was given solely to you and your sister.
But if there is any child that can thrive as a middle child, it is you.
Your voice will not be diminished. You will see to that.
You will not be overlooked. You would never allow it.
In many ways it is fitting that you are the middle child. That is where you thrive.
For you have taken residence in the middle of my heart.
You have a permanent spot in the middle of my soul.
You resonate in the middle of all my thoughts.
You are in the center of all that I am and do.
Come to think of it, that is a better description: you are not the middle child.
You are the center child.
Thank you for you.
Thank you for the love you bring every day.
Thank you for being my girl.
May God always shine His Light over you.
I love you,
daddy

I recently encountered an individual who disparaged the pursuit of holiness. This person made the statement that the Christian life is too safe, too easy.
What is the point to living if all you do is take the easy way?
Where is the excitement, the rush when all you hope to do is the right thing?
The thought possessed behind these questions is the false assumption that living can only truly be experienced through sin.
Through chasing after the lures and desires of the flesh.
People who reject living the Christian lifestyle on this basis believe that yielding to Jesus means that you will forever abandon the thrills and exultation of an unrestrained life.
Au Contraire.
The Christian life is replete with excitement.
It is fraught with risk.
It is overburdened with moments that shake the core, rock the soul and awake the spirit.
Christian living is life on the glorious edge.
It is life totally set free from the temporal restraints of this life.
It is eternal awareness in a secular world.
For example:

• There is great risk when I sit with a couple on the edge of divorce and share with them the glory and fulfillment of a Christ-centered message.
• There is excitement when I talk with the young soul about the peace and comfort of giving of one’s life to Christ.
• There is palpable exhilaration that comes with confronting the wandering soul with the good news of God’s grace.
• There is risk in standing for absolute truth in a world that seems dead set on absolute uncertainty. People may reject you but they will not doubt who you belong to.
• There is reckless disregard for the flesh when we abandon the desires of this life in exchange of the relentless pursuit of heaven.
• There is risk in loving unconditionally
• There is risk in faith. Of launching out with the full expectancy that our steps are not guided by our own might or reasoning ability but by the ever-present Hand of God.
• There is risk in sharing. We know that only some will believe. And we accept the danger of rejection with glad and sincere hearts. Because some will believe.

Every week as I prepare my thoughts for Sunday I am struck by the risk. When I pore through the Scriptures in an attempt at understanding I am seized by delight.
As I consider how to best present the gospel I am overwhelmed, humbled and excited at the enormous responsibility that has been thrust upon me.
I am calling people weekly to surrender all that they have.
All of their meager attempts to get ahead.
All of their futile efforts to procure sense in this life through their own reason.
To lay down their life in exchange for the life God longs for you to have.
In so doing, I see all that I still have left undone. All that God still needs to transform within me.
It is not safe.
It is definitely not easy.
There is risk in giving your life over.
There is excitement at giving God control
There is exhilaration in living for something greater than yourself.

The Christian life is the life of true risk-takers. It is the journey of the joyous.
The manner of the magnificent.
The glory of God.
To live the Christian life is to live in joyous expectancy of Heaven.
To live the Christian life is to boldly risk all for another world.
To live the Christian life is to be willing to die to self and live for Christ.
To live the Christian life is to count all but loss compared to the unsurpassing joy of knowing Him.
To live the Christian life is to experience the excitement of seeing others lay down their burdens, their sins, their hurts, their pains and embrace the Gentle Healer.
It is a life on the tight-rope of living trapped between two worlds: the world we inhabit and the world for which we eagerly await.
It is a life in the lion’s den of those who despise the message armed only with the love of Jesus.

The Christian life is not easy. It is not boring.
It is not the coward’s way out.
It is life.
True life.
Life on the Glorious Edge.
Try it.

Cassie has learned to sing. She loves to sing along
with as many songs as she knows.
She has learned one song that brings back a flood
of memories every time she sings it.
This article is one I wrote about a year and a half
ago. It means a lot to me.
So I thought I would share it with you.
———————————————————————————-
One of my favorite websites is Rhapsody.com.
They have a service that allows you to download
music to listen to and burn onto CD’s.
The best part is that it is perfectly legal. It’s a
fee-based service that doesn’t steal from artists.
As I listen to music at work all day I have been
holding an internal debate as to what is my favorite
song of all time.
Several possibilities might include:

• Stairway to Heaven (Led Zepplin) – Although this
  is a great song it is way too cliche for anyone under
  the age of 45 to have this as a favorite song. It also
  falls into the same trap that songs such as Hotel California,
  Free Bird, and American Pie fall into. I can only bear to
  listen to songs that are 36 minutes long so many times
  before I start pulling my hair out.
• Thunder Road (Bruce Springsteen) – My all-time favorite
  Springsteen song. This song earns extra points for citing
  Roy Orbison, arguably the greatest voice in the history
  of Rock and Roll.
• I Hope That I Don’t Fall in Love With You (Tom Waites)-
  Easily my favorite heartbreak song of all-time. I find it
  more compelling than either Shape of A Heart or
  Sleep’s Dark and Silent Gate by Jackson Browne.
• Deirdre Dances (Michael McDermott) – My friend’s most
  confessional and moving song it is an emotional paean to
  innocence lost.
• Anything by the Beatles – Some of you might be incredulous
  but I am not a Beatles fan. As a matter of fact, I can barely
  stomach them. Talk about cliche.
• Against the Wind (Bob Seger) – Great song about the
  constancy of life. It makes me think back to 18 and
  thinking that this one girl was THE one.
• Mandy (Barry Manilow) – That’s a joke. Just checking
  to see if you are still reading this.
• Like A Rolling Stone (Bob Dylan) – Dylan plugged and
  coherent. Does it get any better than that? Yeah, probably.

My list grew longer and longer but I still couldn’t find
that one song that rises above all the others.
I realized that since Christ truly has a hold of my heart
that no secular song can seize that part of me that is
most important.
Therefore, I moved my search to the sacred. The older
I get the more I like the old hymns that I grew up with.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the contemporary songs that
are full of passion and excitement.
Songs such as Shout to the Lord, Here I Am to Worship, and
Wonderful, Merciful Savior.
However, too many of them are what you might call 7-11 songs:
Songs that have 7 words that you sing 11 times.
I really like the multiple points of theology that can be found in
some of the hymns:

• My Jesus, I Love Thee – The line “for Thee, all the follies
  of sin I resign” stops me short every time I hear them. Do I truly
  love Him that much?
• When I Survey the Wondrous Cross – “Did E’er such love and
  sorrow meet?” I shiver at the thought of the cost.
• Lord We Come Before Thee Now – My favorite entrance song
  into worship.
• Just As I Am – what a tremendous affirmation of God’s grace.
  Sing all the verses please. It’s long but so beautiful.
• Mansion Over the Hilltop – “I’m satisfied with just a cottage
  below, a little silver but a LOT of gold.” On second thought,
  scratch that one.

Still, I could find no song that outdoes every other one.
Modern Christian artists have a few that might make it such as:

• Hold Me, Jesus (Rich Mullins) – The best song about surrender
  I have ever heard.
• Worlds Apart (Jars of Clay) – Great confessional.

I could name dozens more. But still, none stood out above all the rest.

I was just about to give up my search when I heard it:
Definitely the sweetest, most beautiful song I have ever heard.
The emotion and sincerity overwhelmed everything else that I have
listened to in
the past.
I heard it Monday night in the car.
The radio was turned off.
No CD’s or tapes were playing.
Chloe was singing.
She was singing “Jesus Loves Me.”
THAT is my all-time favorite song.
Nothing else comes close.
If I teach my girls anything, I pray
that it is the sweet truth that Chloe
now knows the words to:
Jesus loves me this I know, for the
Bible tells me so.

I hope she sings that song every day of her life.
Her dad loves to hear it.
Her Father does too.
Christian, do you realize how much
God relishes hearing your worship?
You are His favorite singer. He rejoices
when your sweet, tender voice
praises His name.
He wants to hear more and more of it.
You are a blessing to the Creator.
Praise Him.
No greater sound will ever be heard.