The Unease Grows.

Contemporary Christian music.

Ya, my sentiments exactly. Everything that those words stand for make me sick to my stomach.

I've been trying to be a good little Christian and listen to the radio stations and cd's, but I can't do it anymore. There is something that gets under my skin when I think about the genre.

"But what about all those worship songs you sing in church, aren't those all from those albums?"

You're right. They are. But even worship songs piss me off. There is a fire in the pit of my belly that cannot be quenched by anything but pure, unedited worship. I don't care if it's someone singing in a corner, out of tune and without electric guitar. Give me that over a $15,000 set up any day.

There is something so heart breaking about watching a soul go after the heart of God. Pure and true. The most intense moments I've had before the Throne of God have been sitting on a log on the beach, singing, "I love you, Lord" over and over till I'm sobbing like a toddler in Poppa's arms.

So why do we have all this set up and get up? Why the lights and the guitars? Ya, it sounds great, but really? Don't throw the excuse of "new believers" around either.

If a soul is ripe and ready, if the seed planted is bursting at the seams, it will find the Water to quench it's thirst. It will hear the Call and it will know it's Creator.

It is not our job to dictate whether or not a soul is ready, but it is our duty as believers to be the hands and feet, the eyes the elbows the ears that sit, wait, listen and obey when He says, "Go."

Yesterday, I was listening to the Kim Walker Pandora radio station at work and stumbled upon a website that held images representing the last century. I broke down and started crying at my desk. There was a sickness that started in the bottom of my stomach. Immediately, the feeling of disgust and rage took over and I couldn't believe how people pay to go to conferences and to workshops and colleges and universities where they can learn about this that and the other when others are simply trying to live.

"Blessed are the weak, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven," has never rung more true than at these moments in time.

Last time I checked, Paul was transformed not through a school of thought, but on the side of a road with a vision. Last time I checked, Christ said, be weary of religion and scorned against the pharisees, skipping class to have dinner with the prostitutes and gang bangers of the day. So, why are we trying to save the rich young rulers when they turned away Jesus' proposition? I curse the day that I was born in this country. I wish I was born in a hole on the Australian outback. That way, I would have nothing to do but expect God to fork over the Manna every morning at my doorstep.

To truly show His love, I believe we must be broken. How can a vase be made of hard, stubborn dried up clay? We have to be soaked and broken in order to be molded again.

I've got to go back to the beginning, to unteach myself from the screwed up ways I am all to comfortable with.