I didn't write either of these things. A small, mostly selfish part of me wishes I had. The rest of me is too happy to care, because you get to see them on any terms.
The first is called "Going Back." Jon Acuff writes the hilarious and devastatingly honest blog "Stuff Christians Like," which intersperses good-natured skewering of church culture with blindsiding insights into God's grace. This one hit me right between the eyes. It's (partly) about a couple who adopted an orphan girl from Africa. Her adoptive father said…
...“We kept hoping that she would be disobedient and break the rules.”
Why? I won't spoil it, but it's almost certainly not what you think. It's about grace and redemption and adoption and what it means to go home. I honestly never thought about it this way before. I'm sure I'll be thinking about it this way again. Here's the link.
. . .
After you've read it, I think you will require some music. Maybe something that takes the word "Gloria" and makes it sail to heaven. This is a song by my friend Jon Guerra and his band Milano. Their fresh, energetic style is eclectic and hard to pin down--I describe it as "Keith Green getting together with a Gypsy band to cover Muse songs"--but this song especially is bigger than the music. It soars. As a bonus, it has a video that's plenty evocative in its own right. Enjoy. Worship.
(Here's an article with some more information on Milano's unique approach, and some more songs, for those interested: Artists Build The Church. They're well worth checking out.)
New year, new life, new creation. Gloria.
Eric M. Pazdziora lives in Chicago with his wife Carrie, where he writes his own articles and music sometimes too. You can find them at ericpazdziora.com.
e sat in prison. Tomorrow, or perhaps a few days from now, he'd be headless. Some called him a wild man and others a prophet, but now he was only condemned. His life had always been a strange one...strange, like his stories. Not the least of which his mother liked to tell, the one about how he danced in her womb when God drew near. When he was young he'd shrug and duck a little when she repeated it again and again. “Come on, mom,” he'd say, and she'd light up and rough his hair and then gaze deep in his eyes, hands locked on his shoulders. “But it's the truth,” she insisted, fervent and strong. “Truth, John.” Timeless and full of fire, her eyes never seemed to age even as raven locks faded and her grip loosened over the years.
very now and then a passage of Scripture grips me like no other. And this one is a favorite of mine, 
new kind of angle was added to the youth group that was designed to encourage good behavior in the teens at the church we once attended. They created an elite club for specific teenagers who wanted to 'step it up' in their 'walk with God'. A teen needed to apply and be in a 'probationary' period of time before being an official part of this club. During this time, the teen would have to attend a specific amount of church services, participate in a service oriented activity with the church, and memorize verses chosen by the leadership. The verses were about absolute obedience and authority. It was a pyramid type club where one could earn their way up to the top by holding to many different standards from clothing to church attendance. I didn't find anything wrong with serving those less fortunate than you, or dressing modestly, but those 'standards' were outward works for the purpose of getting accepted to this 'special club'