Dear Switchfoot,

Thank you.

For an awesome concert & a great night. For writing great music that is fun to listen to and still resonates deeply. And for being real & genuine, and hanging out in the parking lot after your show.

Jon Foreman: I got to shake your hand, get a pic, and tell you that your songs have meant a lot to me--but forgive me, I was a bit dazzled being in the presence of one of my heroes. So, here is what I meant to say, if I'd been able to be eloquent, witty, and didn't have to worry about the other people standing around:

Roughly five years ago, my brother told me about a song he heard on the radio. "It's by a band called Switchfoot," he said. "Have you heard of them? Are they Christian? Because I think he's talking about God."
I thought for a moment. I was pretty sure I had a song or two on some Christian compilations, like WOW. "Yeah, I think they are," I replied. Kyle went on to tell me more about the song "Meant to Live" and how good it was. Not long after, he bought the album, "The Beautiful Letdown." My brother is one of my sources for new music recommendations, so when he told me that it was a really good CD, I borrowed it. He didn't get it back for several months.

Eventually, my entire family had to buy our own copies, because we all loved it so much--all four of us with our own "Beautiful Letdown" CD. (Clearly, this was in the days before we had our zunes.) It took me a while to move past the first few songs, but I finally did and was blown away. You see, 2004-2005 was a rough time for me. I was in a job I hated. My family was going through some rough times--my mom had cancer, my dad was switching jobs, my grandmother died, and we were moving out of our house and into a really crappy apartment. And did I mention I hated my job?

Suddenly I had these songs calling to me, urging me, comforting me. Although I had my family, and we are close, I did not have a community of friendships at that point in my life. I was finding the transition from campus life to the real world challenging. It was a dry, deserty time for me. A dark night of the soul, as St. John of the Cross would say. It was, in fact, a Beautiful Letdown.

So, when I say these songs meant a lot to me, I feel like that's kind of an understatement. For the past few years, since TBL, I have continually found solace and strength in Switchfoot's songs. When "Nothing is Sound" came out, I was grateful for the raw, lament-like honesty of songs like "The Blues" and "Lonely Nation." (And I blogged about it, too.) When "Oh! Gravity" was released, I connected with songs like "The Awakening" and "4:12." I also discovered some older tunes like "You," "Let That Be Enough," and "Only Hope," which somehow were just what I needed to hear at the time. Last summer, when I was searching for direction and leaving a job I loved but which had become too much of a constant battle for me, I was touched by "This is Home." (I cried every time I saw the video--but that probably has as much to do with Switchfoot as it does with the fact that I adore anything involving Narnia, Aslan, and C. S. Lewis.) In fact, my few and faithful readers might remember that I used lyrics from that song several times in this blog that summer.

Even earlier this year, as I discovered "Fiction Family" and caught up on all of Jon Foreman's eps, I continued to be uplifted by the words and music. So many of the songs from "Fall," "Winter," "Spring," & "Summer" just hit me right where I was at. It was another bit of a rough time for me, a time of searching and seeking God, a time of wanting to be renewed and refreshed, and I have to say it: God used many of those songs to restore my soul. Songs like "The Cure for Pain," "White as Snow," "The House of God, Forever," "I am Still Running," and especially "Your Love is Strong" (which my friends and I have played many times in our small groups) were like a healing salve for my troubled soul. They became my prayers in a time when going to church was a struggle.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, I discovered that you had become my favorite band. Which was something of a shock, because as anyone who knew me in high school and college will tell you, I was a rabid Newsboys fan for the longest time. I'm not going to compare the two bands, because such comparisons are "odious" as Madeleine L'Engle would quote. It's enough for me to say that your songs have changed my life and probably in some way saved me. I apologize if that sounds hyperbolic, but that's certainly how it feels.


People are already talking about your upcoming album, and it bugs me when they compare it to your old stuff. Not every album has to be "The Beautiful Letdown." Not every song can be "Dare You to Move." To expect that is just folly--it's like people who wanted every M. Night Shyamalan movie to be "Sixth Sense," when if they'd just been paying attention, they would have seen that "Signs" and "Lady in the Water" were just as good in their own way (better, in my opinion, but that's me). From what I've heard, both at your concert last night and on Youtube (I shamelessly looked up people's amateur vids of you playing new stuff), I think it's going to be good. In fact, I think "Hello Hurricane" is going to be my new anthem. I'm already in love with that song, and can't wait til November so I can have a copy of it.

So thank you once again for being real and honest; for writing and playing songs that are authentic and which resonate and speak to people's hearts and pour into their souls. Your songs have comforted me, challenged me, pushed me, and healed me. Thank you for letting God use you.

Sincerely,

Jessica Richards
(aka the girl who finally went to see you for the first time last night @ Robert Morris U & had an amazing time.)

Belief Over Misery*

One of the important things to remember when blogging or journaling is to write about both the bad and the good moments.

Why the bad the moments? To be honest. To remind yourself and everyone else that perfection can't be found here, and struggles will come. And sometimes, because it helps to vent. For me, writing my thoughts down helps give them focus and clarity. But also, it's important to record what the issue is, what you're dealing with, so that you can see later how you've grown. More significantly, you can see how God is working.

That's why we have to write about the good moments, too. They are like the monuments the Israelites used to build to remind themselves of God's provision. It's all too easy to get caught up in circumstances and see only how bad everything is. I'm so prone to that. I forget too quickly the ways in which God has provided for me in the past--but keeping a record helps combat spiritual amnesia.

So today, I am writing out of a sense of awe. That's something I haven't felt in a while.

God came through for me this week in a very powerful, undeniable way. And I...I am humbled by it, knowing that I don't deserve it.

I know I keep bringing up this Ireland thing...but I've been timid about it, afraid of having the door closed on me. It's happened before. So I've been looking for signs and signals, clues to see if this is actually where God is leading me, and not just my own wistfulness. Today I feel like God is confirming some things, and beginning to make a way for me.

I ask you to continue praying for me, not because I'm still so uncertain, but because I'll need it. There will still be struggles and doubts; I'll be under attack.

I'll continue to give updates. We don't leave until next month--July 12th.

Again, I just felt like I needed to record something positive. I've been dealing with a lot of negativity in an area of my life lately (specifically, my calling, gifts, and purpose), and this week was like...the sun coming out after a thunderstorm. (No offense to rainy weather!)

I was led to the Psalms the other day, and found myself reading 23 & 25. 25 is where Third Day got their song "My Hope is You," and that was kind of an anthem for me the other day. Psalm 23, however, is so well-known that I don't often pay attention to it. It's cliche. Or so I thought.

But suddenly, words leapt off the page:

5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.

It's not cliche, after all. It's beautiful. It's just become so commonplace that I stopped noticing.

I don't want to stop noticing what God is trying to say to me--on the contrary, I want to hear more and more.

I've got my heart set
on what happens next
I've got my eyes wide,
It's not over yet,
We're miracles,
And we're not alone....*

* --Taken from the Switchfoot song, "This is Home."

Blah!

Okay, honestly, I've had a lot more going on in my head these past few weeks than you would guess. I kept meaning to get it out, post it here, but I just haven't. I don't even have a really good excuse!!

Even now, though, I don't really have time to spill stuff that's been rattling around in my brain. Just know that I've been wrestling with things like:

• Vulnerability
• Love
• Honesty
• Patience
• Friendship
• Personality Types and Temperaments (try my quiz!)
  
• and the Themes embedded in the Harry Potter stories. (Did you see the latest movie? Wow! There was some powerful stuff going on there. That's all I'm saying for now.)
  

But see, my second favorite thing (well, possibly tied for first, even) to do with these issues, besides writing about them, is talking about them with other people. I love to hear what other people think about this kind of stuff.

So, if you have any thoughts, post 'em! No joke! I wanna know--we all wanna know--what you've been thinking about.

All The Time

Well, it's amazing.

I know I've been mentioning my struggles lately, my stress and frustrations (as much as I can on a blog without dragging out all the details!). I hope I don't sound like I'm complaining.

The truth is, Life is Hard sometimes. And I know I'm not the only one who can attest to this.

So, there are these things, these areas of my life that I've been wrestling with. Just so you know, I'm on top of the "Christian" thing to do. I pray and pour my heart out to God. And I've already mentioned that I'm trying hard to do the "praising in the hard times" thing. I'm still working on it. Can you feel completely miserable and still profess to believe that God is God, and in control? Well, if so, I'm slogging my way through it.

I don't share this stuff just to vent. I mean, I do think it's important to have people in your life that you can tell things to. For me, talking it out with others really helps me get things in perspective. (Because again, things are always worse in my head than in reality.)

I share it because it's Real, and it's what's going on in my life, and I don't think that praising God through the bad stuff means that you act like everything is great when it's not. When I pretend like I'm fine, as I'm prone to do, to avoid pity, I am depriving others of the Reality that Life will get rough. I can't act like things are great all the time and that I never wrestle or struggle, or those who are struggling will think there is something wrong with their faith. And that's simply not true. Every person in the Bible who had an active relationship and vivid encounter with God also had times of hardship and struggle. It happens. And we could get into theological discussions of why--whether God is testing us, or allowing it to grow us and bring us closer to him (hard things to tell someone who is grieving the loss of a loved one, and not very comforting), or if it is the work of this fallen world and our Enemy. But the bottom line is that God is still in control.

He is sovereign. He is in the big things and the small things. And most of all, he is good.

I started out my day stressed, frustrated, and tired. Things were weighing heavily on my heart. I was wrestling with my situation and circumstances, and things that are simply out of my control. And yes, I was praying, and acknowledging God's control. But I was still under attack.

Then, in a heartbeat, just when I needed it most, I received encouragement. This is the other reason I share about my struggles. To show how God works through them. Not one, but two people reached out to me with very needed words of encouragement. God is good. So very good.

And isn't it amazing how He uses us, as flawed and selfish as we are, to lift others up? That is so very important, such a vital part of our purpose here on Earth. Just being there, being available, listening to a friend--it sounds cliche, and yet it saved me today. God knew just what I needed. And so I praise Him.

God is good--ALL the time.

Let’s Hear it for Pain!

(Note: this blog is also featured on Hearitfirst.com this week.)

“Yay!”

Raise your hand if that’s your first thought when things go wrong.

Didn’t think so.

You know all those verses in the bible that talk about rejoicing in the midst of trials? I’m terrible at that. In fact, when something goes wrong in my life, I’m rarely thinking, “What is God trying to teach me?” It’s usually something more like “God, why are you doing this to me? Why did you let this happen?”

It’s something I’m trying to work on.

A couple years back, I was having a miserable time in my life. Honestly, 2005 was one of the worst years I’ve ever had. My mom had cancer, my dad lost his job, we had to move out of the one house I’d ever gotten attached to, I had one of the worst jobs I’ve ever had, and my grandma died. It was really just a rotten year.

But, I survived it. And as things began to get better, I found myself thanking God for moving me out of that dark and dry time. I suppose that’s a better response than not thanking him, but it occurred to me that I could have had a much better attitude during the whole thing.

I’m not one of those people who thinks that being a Christian means putting on a smiley face no matter what’s going wrong in life. You know what I mean. There are people who will always say they are “Fine, thanks,” when you ask them how they are. Although, I admit, I don’t exactly like for people to see me crying, either. I say I believe in being authentic, but I don’t like to let everyone see that I’m hurting.

Yet the Psalms are full of laments. A lament is when you cry out to God in the midst of your troubles. And I was so relieved when I learned that being honest with God was okay. I pour my heart out to Him all the time—and I especially did that Awful Year. BUT I neglected something very important. A Psalm of Lament, no matter how bad the situation was, ends in praise. The Psalmist would break off from his pleading and moaning and end up steadfastly trusting in God’s ultimate goodness.

That’s the hardest part, at least for me. I have a hard time seeing past my circumstances, and trusting that God has something good for me. Oh, I believe it, deep down; but I don’t usually feel it.

The other day, I found out something that troubled my heart. It hurt—even though I truly know that it was good for me. It was not what I had in mind for me, but as I thought about the situation, I realized that it was a perfect opportunity for me to praise God, even when I didn’t feel like it. Understand, I wasn’t mad at God, or shaking a fist or anything; I just felt deeply disappointed. But, I praised Him anyway. And though I don’t actually feel a whole lot better today, I do have a peace about the situation.

It's one of those things where God is trying to teach me not only patience, but to be present. Remember in Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, where, where Luke goes to see Yoda? And Yoda says about him, "A long time have I watched this one. All his life as he looked away...to the future, the horizon. Never his mind on where he was, what he was doing."

That's me. I don't know if it's because I have a good imagination, or because I love stories so much, but I have such an easy time picturing what I think God has in store for me. What I wish God had in store for me. And it's so easy for me to be focused on the things to come that I forget to pay attention to what I'm supposed to be doing now.

And when things are a little difficult, like now, it's even easier to wish away the hard circumstances. And that's exactly what God is trying to break me of.

It isn’t easy. But it is good, because God is Good. All the time, as my pastor says. All the time, God is good. Especially today.

Nothing is Sound

I got a new CD the other day. I took it home from the store and cut it open to read the lyrics. I was blown away. I put it in the CD player to listen and just continued to play it over and over. I have been listening to it almost constantly.

Now if I was Brianne, you would know what the album was without even asking, since she talks about her passion all the time on her blog.

But this is my blog and therefore you probably want to know what CD I’m referring to. (Unless, of course, you recognized the title.)

I’m talking about Switchfoot’s new album, Nothing is Sound. I first got into Switchfoot with their Beautiful Letdown CD, so it’s not like I’m a long-time, die-hard fan writing here. But I was touched deeply by songs like “Meant to Live,” “This is Your Life,” and “Dare You to Move” (which is probably one of my most favorite songs ever).

So naturally I was drawn to the new CD, despite my brother’s warning that a friend of his hadn’t liked it as much. Well, I like it so much that I’m blogging about it, except I hardly know where to begin.

I guess what hits me most and hardest is the unrelentless honesty of their songs. They are singing about things like brokenness and wounds and what is life all about, anyway? They pick up on the absurd paradoxes and double standards of our culture in a way that keeps form being overly cynical by adding in hope, and they aren’t afraid to humbly admit they are as much a part of the problem as anyone else.

I love it.

The minute I began reading the lyrics, I was hooked. But now I’ve been playing it over and over, and I just went to their website. I read Jon Foreman’s notes on how the songs came about and what the album is really supposed to be saying. I almost cried. Sometimes I’m afraid that the things I love so swiftly and deeply are things I will regret later. This is probably a lie of the Enemy. I told my family (and Brianne) that it felt like they had read through Ecclesiastes before writing the songs, and Foreman mentioned not only Ecclesiastes, but Psalms as well. He spoke with such honesty about the paradoxes in our world…I don’t know why but it was so refreshing.

This is the kind of CD I could put in at the end of a long, horrible day, when I’m angry with my life or myself or when I just don’t understand what is going on in the world. And it is the kind of CD that would make me feel better. It is like a lament: it starts with questions, with admissions of pain, loneliness, and wounds…and moves into an acknowledgement that there is still hope. It lets you cry, it lets you sing, it lets you breathe.

To keep this from sounding like an ad for Switchfoot, I just want to make it clear why I love it so much. I have felt for a long time that there is something lacking in our culture—and that it has spilled over into the Church. Call it what you want—honesty, openness, authenticity. We are afraid to be ourselves. We are afraid to let others see us struggling. Wait. No. I. I am afraid to let people know when I am hurting. I don’t want people to see me when I am vulnerable. I hate to cry in front of others.

I think the reason for this is that something critical happens when we share the vulnerable broken parts of ourselves with someone else. You can only forge a genuine friendship—or any other kind of ’ship—when you are real with someone else. And if there is one thing our Enemy hates, it is fellowship. He will keep us from being real if it keeps us from being connected.

These songs are about brokenness; they aren’t about how great life is when you become a Christian. They aren’t La-la-la-le-lujah songs. Those have their place, but we’ve made them the center. We have forgotten how to lament.

Sometimes when I walk into church, I want to turn around and walk right back out again. I hear the music: it’ another “It’s a Wonderful Day So Let’s Praise the Lord” song. Are you kidding me? I overslept and missed breakfast and got into fights on the way here. I had a lousy week at my lousy job. The highlight of my week was watching TV. And now I’m supposed to automatically turn on my smile and start singing? I can’t do it. Well, I guess I can…but I don’t like to. I need time and silence to get my heart right with God again.

These songs speak to that need. They speak to that place inside you that wonders while you sing in church, “Am I really satisfied? Am I really as happy in Christ as this song says I should be?” So if you’ve ever felt like something wasn’t right—with you, with the world, with everything—go get this CD. And go read what they have to say about the songs. And don’t ask me if they are a Christian Band. Listen to it and decide for yourself.

And the next time someone asks how you were doing, before automatically responding, “Fine,” at least consider being honest. 

A Change of Clothes

Every Friday night I go to the Pittsburgh Chinese Church. For the past two years or so I’ve been teaching a class there—no, not English—a Bible class for Kindergarten to Second Graders. They’re good kids. (And, as you can tell, they really like it when I pull out my camera phone.)

The girls are really sweet and affectionate and always want to sit by me. They even went so far as to start bringing water bottles to class because I am notorious for bringing one every where I go.

The boys, on the other hand…I feel like I’m always telling them stop. Stop talking, stop running, stop hitting…you get the idea. It’s not that they’re bad: they’re just really energetic. And I just know that if I could keep their attention for more than thirty seconds, they might learn something. They are very smart. (In all fairness, I have to ask the girls to stop talking just as frequently. They just obey quicker.)

These boys are also really funny. I think some of them have secret aspirations for being stand-up comedians. They each like to try to crack everyone up. And more than once in a while, they end up cracking me up, too.

This week I was giving a lesson on telling the truth and how truth is important. For an illustration, I had a paper doll named “Joe.” On one side, Joe was frowning because he told his mom a lie. To emphasize his sad state, I colored his shirt blue and gray (not that I have anything against those colors; it’s just that sometimes my artsy, symbolic side gets carried away) and gave him green cords. On the other side, Joe is smiling because Jesus has set him free from sin. This time I colored his shirt bright yellow and orange—again, for emphasis—and put him in blue jeans.

Well, when I “freed” Joe (he was stuck in a “sin” envelope) I showed the class the happy side. I asked them why Joe was happy now.

And Andrew (who is in second grade) said: “Because he got a new shirt and new pants.”

Now Andrew is a very smart kid, and I know he knew the “right” answer. But I have to tell you, after a surprised pause, I burst out laughing.

“Well,” Andrew explained, “I like his new clothes better. I don’t really like green pants.” I laughed even harder. I had to borrow a scrap of paper from Joie, the girl next to me, so I could write it down that instant. It may not sound as funny now, but take my word for it. It’s just one of those things that happens in my class.

I shouldn’t be, but I’m always surprised when they come out with things like that. I’m not surprised when Andrew gives me the “Sunday School” answer; he goes to a Christian school and Sunday School and his parents are active in the church—in fact, Mandy, his mom, coordinates the Friday evening classes for the kids and teaches as well.

The truth is, though, if you ask kids a question, especially in a bible class they will either give you the “God” answer, or the most obvious answer. Most of my kids know the “Jesus” answers, so I usually try to get them to dig a little deeper and think a little more personally about it. I don’t know that I really succeed; they are, after all, only about six or seven.

I don’t get frustrated with them if they don’t use their reasoning skills. I just try to challenge them. But sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that not everything is deep. I mean, I’m big into symbolism and meaning, and I’m sure I could use the anecdote for a sermonette about how when we come to Christ, we do in a sense get change of clothes; we are told to put on things like humility and love like garments.

But that’s not what Andrew meant. He was speaking form that gut-level simplicity and honesty that somehow, I find myself admiring. The truth is, I wouldn’t really want to wear bright green pants, either. That’s probably why I found it so funny. He looked past my symbolism and got to what really mattered to him.

I don’t really want to go into the whole “child-like faith” thing. Even though I really believe it and it’s a big part of why I love working with kids, it’s become a bit cliché to bring that up when sharing a funny kid anecdote. That’s not really what this is about, anyway. It’s really about how funny kids are, and how refreshing their simplicity can be. It’s funny because we think we have the world in better perspective when we’re older and understand the “real world.”

I just think that sometimes, maybe it’s the other way around, and kids have the better perspective. Of course something more important happened to Joe than a change of clothes. But come on, now. Would you want to be wearing a blue and gray shirt with kelly green corduroy pants? Especially after such a special and spiritual experience like Joe’s? I didn’t think so.