by James Webb
I’m sitting in someone’s living room, with a small group of people. We’re in silence, though it’s not an awkward silence. We’re waiting and thinking and praying. We’re about to take communion together. Read more
It’s been a while since I wrote anything about music, so here’s another one of my worship picks. The song is ‘Everlasting’ and the band is Juggernautz.
I hope you’re in the mood for some electropop. This one is by Joy Electric and is called ‘I’m Your Boy’.
Today I am repenting of my bad memory. I had allowed myself to forget something important.
I had not forgotten that God is kind, or that He is generous, or that He loves me. No, it was something else. Read more
The album version of this track isn’t available on YouTube (not in the UK, at least) so I’m having to post a live version taken from a festival, which is somewhat at odds with what the song means for me, as I’ll go on to explain.
Anyway, the band is Selfmindead and the song is called ‘Always’. Read more
I’m going to take a blog break for a couple of weeks over the summer, starting after this post. This is the first break I’ve taken since I started in 2015, so I don’t feel guilty at all. I’m going to leave you with a thought, something you can mull over while I’m off-line, and then we’ll pick up with business as usual in a couple of weeks. OK? Good.
The thought is this: you are contagious.
Don’t worry. So am I. Read more
“I haven’t seen you at the shelter recently.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I don’t see much point these days.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think I believe it any more. To be honest, I don’t really see how you can believe it.”
“What do you mean? You’ve given up your faith?” Read more
Reid has already left for school with his mum, while Calvin sleeps on in his GCSE-free zone. Xanthe is somewhere in the house, killing time by listening to music at a volume level chosen for the purpose of agitating her younger brother. I ask Parker about his homework. He declares in a loud voice that he needs some alone time and marches out into the garden. Imogen, sitting at the table munching on her cereal, doesn’t even look up from her book. Read more
(I warned you that I’d be writing more poetry. Good poetry doesn’t need an explanation, so you can be sure that what follows is not a good poem. It came out of a thought I’m sure many of you have had; Easter is now so normalised that it can be easy – even for followers of Jesus – to take for granted things that shouldn’t. Anyway, it’s not a great poem, and comes across a bit more cynical than I’d like. I don’t want you to think that I’m some kind of Easter Scrooge – I actually quite like chocolate eggs and holidays, but I also quite like the last two lines. If I had the time I’d try and fix what I think is wrong with it, but there’s an Easter blog due, so…) Read more
There were no lights, no holly and the ivy;
no red-breasted robin to sing in festivity;
no cheer of any sort to warm the cold winters;
no berry red Santa bringing sacks of presents,
only blood red legionaries, bringing Pax (with blades)
and the hungry hoping that it wouldn’t snow.
And after all no ear did hear his coming,
because we only listen to music that we like,
and no eye did witness the raging storm
of heaven contained within tiny feet and hands,
for sometimes the first line of a poem
is best when it can only be whispered.
So into this absent-minded world of winter
(that tells itself lies to keep the dark dreams at bay),
came a mustard seed shaped Christmas,
that didn’t end with an angel or a star on a tree,
and the hat that was worn for this main event
you wouldn’t get from pulling any crackers.
And into this absent-minded world of winter
(that tells itself lies to keep the dark dreams at bay),
how silently, how silently,
the wondrous truth bomb is dropped,
and God imparts to human hearts
the blessings of dark dreams stopped.
