As I grew, made my way through school, found my own radio stations, discovered PBS television, I found many more types of music to love. I listened to the Eagles, the Beetles, Pavarotti, Bocelli (my favorite), U2, The Bee Gees, ABBA, ZZ Top, Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles . . . you get the idea. If there was a melody, I was all in, loving it all. I heard the different instruments, adored how the voices blended and hit the notes, found joy in the rhythms and tempos. Then I met Mr. Wonderful. One day as I was listening to a song with a fabulous tempo, great blend of voices, amazing musical score, Mr. Wonderful asked me an eye-opening question that has changed the way I’ve listened to songs ever since. The question: Do the lyrics to that song honor God? Wham-bam-thank you ma’am. Why hadn’t I ever thought about this before? Why was singing lude lyrics set to pleasing music okay, when speaking these lyrics would make me cower in shame? Let’s just say I had an ahh-haa moment. I hadn’t paid attention to the words at all. I didn’t even know what I was saying when I sang the Italian opera I so enjoyed. Ouch. My toes were hurting. I tried to justify my wide array of song choices, some of them just plain ole raunchy, by telling myself I wasn’t hurting anyone, and what I listened to didn’t really affect me. Have you ever noticed that God’s word cuts through the bologna we serve ourselves—if we take the time to read it?
Some of the songs were fine with clean nice lyrics, but I wasn’t filtering my music at all. I listened to the good, the bad and the ugly all with the same gusto.
I would love to say that I turned away from the music whose lyrics were not pleasing to my Savior and never looked back, but I can’t. My prayer now is Psalm 141:3 “Set a guard over my mouth, Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips.” Have I stepped on your toes, because mine are bloody nubs.
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I spent the entire day last Saturday getting my tax information together. Let me just say that if there was ever any doubt that I do not write for the money, I squashed it flat over the weekend. Once again, I put every little penny from my books back into the writing business. Praise the Lord. I stayed in the black and still put out a few novels. I know in my heart that this writing is a ministry. As long as I’m writing and putting out Christ honoring fiction, I’m doing what I am supposed to. I string along my words into whatever tale pops into my head, then use them to entertain and bring glory to God. But sometimes, like on the day I’m contemplating how many hours I have invested into this writing thing, and how little income it’s given back, I want to have a little pity-party. Even worse than that, I ask myself if this is really what God has called me to? I mean, what good am I actually doing for the kingdom? Isn’t there an easier, less time-consuming way to serve? Like hospice nursing? After all, I did that for years. I shared Christ in my job—and brought home a little bacon too. In Genesis 7:13-16 we come to a climactic point in the story of Noah. After working on the ark and preaching to the masses for 120 long years, it was finally time to gather the converts from all of his labors and enter the ark. In the previous chapter, we watched Noah drop everything in his life and work non-stop for over a century, faithfully doing what God had told him to do. Finally, in these verses, on the day that the Lord appointed, how many converts besides Noah’s family followed him into the ark? You know the story. Zilch. Nada. A big goose-egg zero. Can you imagine the pity-party I could have thrown that day? Yes, I would have boo-hooed like a baby and even doubted what I had done with my life for the last hundred years. But not Noah. Noah was as steady as a rock, faithfully doing what God told him to do.
Another thing I love about this passage is how the Bible tells us that God closed the door. Noah completed that part of his ministry, and God took it from him. God closed that door and no one, including Noah, could have reopened it until God ordained it to happen. This really speaks to me. God knows the season of life I’m in. He knows I’m not the person I was ten years ago. He knows my weaknesses and my strengths just like He knows yours. Our job is simply to surrender to His will and stay the course. What should I conclude from this lesson? God didn’t call me to make money from my writing. He didn’t call me to be a popular writer. He called me to glorify Him with my words. He took care of my yesterday, and He will take care of my tomorrow. So today . . . today, I write. What has He called you to do today? |
KC HartAuthorJoin me in my study of God's Word as I strive to draw closer in my walk with Jesus and seek His daily plan for my life. Archives
May 2024
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