The Lost Art of Lament - Boston, Texas, and Gosnell

The trench is dug within our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters
Torn apart
 

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

How long...

How long must we sing this song?

How long, how long... 

~U2, Sunday,Bloody Sunday

We all know what it feels like to be homesick. The many months in a foreign land, the unfamiliar sounds of a different country. After the hours on the road, you drag yourself indoors, ready for the weariness and discomfort to cease, ready to embrace that unconditional lover: the couch. 

But sometimes, there are problems that have no solution. Ever had a dream in your head? Perfect and untouched, the idea for a poem, or a book, or a piece of art? But when you take up the pen, the words cannot describe it. You know exactly what you’re talking about, but everything you try feels wrong, a futile attempt to describe a greater truth. You throw language at an object, but nothing captures the essence of it. The painting is just a scrawled crayon glimpse of an uncapturable vision. Sometimes, we feel a hunger that nothing satisfies.

A Tale of Two Cities - Grace in Fiction

The Storming of the Bastille

Whether I will re-read a book depends on the middle. Having a good beginning and a good end are just half the battle if the journey between is mediocre. I read and re-read my favorite trilogy: The Lord of the Rings because it is about a quest, a battle against evil, and every bit of it is essential to the ending.

Upon finishing Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities, something unique happened. I mean, other than the fact that I bawled my eyes out, which rare enough in itself. But as I turned the last pages, I wanted to sit down and read the whole thing again. Right there. Right then. Several times. I’ve actually had to force myself not to do so, in the month since, because I have other things to do.

What about it appealed so deeply to me? That’s not exactly the best question. The best question is: what about it appeals to hundreds of millions of people worldwide? According to Wikipedia, it’s the number one bestselling fiction book of all time, with approximately 200 million sales. (Fun fact: Lord of the Rings takes second places with 150 million – The Hobbit fourth with 100 million.) This book obviously appeals to more than just one blogger in Appalachia. It caters to more than just Americans. There is something about this book, and Rings, that speak to the depths of human desire. It touches on themes that transcend culture and time. 


New Year

A bit late, but I wanted to wish everybody a happy new year. There are many CDs themed on Christmas, many more on Easter, and possibly even a few on Hanukah, but there's only one I've ever discovered that's about New Year's, and that's Eric Peters's latest offering: Birds of Relocation. Last night at our family gathering, we covertly played it while everyone was involved in Balderdash or Spoons, on our campaign to make Christian music cool. (Just for today, the CD is 20% off, and worth every penny.) But anyway, here are a few words that are far better than any I've ever written.


This is the year that something changes but nothing ever does
This is the year that all my failures turn into a pile of dust
This is the year, with fallen faces, we learn we’re not enough
This is the year to hold each other up

Oh, oh, oh it’s a new year
Oh, oh, oh it’s a brand new light
Oh, oh, oh can you believe it?
It’s the skies that we dream of

This is the year when laughter douses charred and burnt-out dreams
This is the year when wrens return to nest in storm-blown trees
Is this the year of relocation from boughs of old despair?
This is the year to perch on hope’s repair

I was pale and weary sad, tired of ghost debates
A slave to voices old and vile, bitter bones in the grave
But this is the year, it’s the year that something changes
This is the year, the year that something changes

Oh, oh, oh it’s a new year
Oh, oh, oh it’s a brand new light
Oh, oh, oh can you believe it?
It’s the skies that we dream of

Have a blessed and joyful new year.

Dream of the skies,
Longish

The Silence of God

Today, more than ever, I feel the deep brokenness of the world. That Man could do such things, such brutal, animal, cruel things to innocent children, makes one want to scream at the heavens, why? Why?

I am not one to ask why the world is broken, or what would have been if it was not - it is enough that it is. But I was sitting at the computer, wondering whether it was okay to be hurt about this. The world is broken, but am I allowed to doubt God? To ask why? If I believe in heaven, why does this hurt so much? Then I came to a song that I had heard many times, but as has so often happened before, this time I really listened.

Light for the Lost Boy - a Review

I remember the day of the Tennessee Flood,
The sound of the scream
and the sight of the blood.
My son he saw as the animal died
in the jaws of the dog as the river ran by,
He said, "Come back soon."

It takes guts to start an album with lines like that. When I first heard them, I was surprised and intrigued. And right from the get-go, Andrew Peterson fans, both new and old, aren’t quite sure what to expect. Unlike his previous albums, Lost Boy is immediately dark and brooding, while at the same time deep and satisfying.

The instrumental backing, (and in particular, the addition of the epic drumming of Will Chapman—yes, son of Steven Curtis) is much broader than with earlier records. Gone are the folksy banjos and fiddles, enter drums and mournful electric guitar. While unusual at first, I quickly decided it was cool, and it certainly still had that Andrew Peterson vibe to it (references to thunder and mountains, and at least one song with hammered dulcimer).

Come Back Soon, the opening track, introduces the main theme of the album: loss of innocence. The album draws inspiration from both The Yearling and Peter Pan, and there is frequent imagery of a boy, lost in the woods. In some ways, starting the album with Come Back Soon feels like starting off right where his previous record, Counting Stars, left off. Counting Stars ends with the lines,

I know that I don’t know what I’m asking,

But I long, Lord, I long to look you full in the face,

I am ready for the Reckoning.