Gifts

It was Christmas time and I was home visiting my family. As per tradition, all of family who lived within a few hours drive, had come over for a huge Christmas day lunch. As we gathered around the table to eat, chatter, food and the love of a family swarmed throughout the room. Food was everywhere, but my Aunt Lisa had cooked her famous sweet potato casserole, so in my eyes, I was happy as could be.

Once we had gorged, we found ourselves split, half of us in the den watching Christmas day parades, while the other half kept busy in the kitchen cleaning up from our feast prepared for an army. Before my Aunt began to wash some of the big pots and pans in the sink, she removed her bracelet from her wrist. It was a charm bracelet of sorts, silver and shiny, as she placed it at the edge of the sink. My mother swooned and quickly complimented my aunt, her sister, on the beauty and elegance of that bracelet. Aunt Lisa quickly and graciously accepted her compliment, being sure to tell my mom exactly where so had purchased it as well as how much she had paid for it. She then promptly told my mother that she would keep her eyes open if she ever came across another one.

After our gluttony had passed and our bodies were rejuvenated from napping, the house once more came alive. Soon footballs were soaring across the living room and the men grew restless on the couches as the parades and football games had come to a close on the television. After the mom’s chased all the boys and men into the yard to play football, my mom and her sister remained at the kitchen table talking and catching up. When we returned back inside from the football game of the century, my mom was quick to point out the gift she had be given while we were outside; my Aunt’s charm bracelet.

For maybe the first time in my life, I had witnessed the giving of a gift out of pure love, demanding nothing in return. How often are do really ever give something away without asking for some kind of payment, whether its monetary, a “thank you,” or by expecting something in return? We often only give at Christmas because we want to get something “good” in return. And we give gifts at birthdays so that hopefully someone will remember our birthday and give a gift to us. But how often do we truly give gifts out of the same love for our neighbor that Christ gave to us through his death and resurrection. Perhaps this Easter season should be reminding us of that gift.

In the coming days, I challenge you to look for opportunities where you can give a gift without the expectation of getting anything in return. Reteach yourself how to truly give something away. Maybe it will be something physical, such as a bracelet your friend really likes or a meal you buy for them. Or maybe it will be giving love to the loveless, or hope to the broken. Whatever you give, give out of love that Christ has so generously given us. Allow the Kingdom of God to break into our lives as we learn to love both God and our neighbor.

Pawpaw, Theology, and Worship.

{Insert obligatory comment about time from last post until now… then insert obligatory disclaimer that current trend of blogging may or may not last}

The day is etched in my mind. I was home on Christmas break during my sophomore year of college. My family was gathered around the dining room table, during an unusually warm Thanksgiving day. Like every year, there was a separate children’s table, where for my entire life I had been forced to sit. This year was different, because this year, I finally made it to sit at the adult table. For the first time in my life, my voice was valid at the family table and I was finally mature enough to enjoy the company of my elders.

After the feast was finished, but before we retired to the living room to watch the Lions lose another football game, my family remained at the table paralyzed by all the food we had devoured. It was that “too full to move” mentality that walks the fence between shear laziness and pure contentment. While sitting there, our family began to tell old stories about the past. We laughed loudly, and at some points cried softly as we remembered my grandmother, Meemaw, who had recently passed away. My grandfather, however, remained at the table. He sat quietly, requiring a lot of help and assistance throughout the entire meal. At the time, he was in the final stages of Alzheimer’s with very little, if any, ability to care for himself. He had virtually no interaction with us that day, and chances are, he didn’t even know who we were.

As our stories began to fade, and as the adults grew ready for an afternoon nap, one of my younger cousins, George, grew restless at the children’s table. As he began to wonder around the house, he ended up at the family piano, playing some of the melodies he had been learning at his piano lessons. This quickly grew into an entire family affair. Before you knew it my mom was at the piano, playing the old hymns of the church.

Then, out of nowhere, Pawpaw began singing alongside all of us! He joined in, quietly, but assuredly, singing the lyrics of those old Christians hymns. The songs that he had learned in his childhood were now sung with child-like innocence. It is a moment forever etched into my mind.

If you have spent any time recently in the church, you know of the worship wars that unfortunately divide many within the body of Christ. Today, I’m not trying to make an argument for or against a certain type of worship. All are valid and have a place in the church. Rather, today, I want to call attention to another aspect of what has divided so many of us.

For hundreds of years, people developed, retained, and grew their theology from songs being sung and taught to them by rote. John Wesley, one of my spiritual forefather’s, knew how songs impacted the lives of people. This is why he and his brother, Charles, wrote such theologically charged songs at the end of the 18th century. When Charles Wesley wrote, “And Can It Be that I Should Gain,” he was writing his theology of atonement, love, and soteriology.

Other examples of this come from Spirituals written and developed by African American’s during slavery. “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” for example, was much more than a song about freedom. It tells a theology… a theology of liberation. “Amazing Grace,” is more than just a song about grace. It tells a theology. A theology of grace.

Unquestionably, this current generation, my generation, more than any other generation, is rooted in the art of music. Music is everywhere. Music is not just a part of culture, it dominates our culture. Yet, today, I’m forced to ask the question, “What theology is being taught by the songs we sing in our churches today?”

Please don’t hear me advocating for the hymns of old. For surely, there are theologically terrible hymns from antiquity. At the same time, there are theologically rich songs being written all over my home city, Nashville, today. We must learn to engage the lyrics of what we sing. We can’t become enamored with a key change or a catchy melody. Instead, we must become aware of what the words being sung are teaching us.

This week at church, read the words. Ask questions. Learn from the words. Grow from the words. Let the words work on your soul. Never neglect the practice of worship. But always be reflexive (or reflective) on the words we sing, and the subsequent theology being derived.

In Colossians 3:16 Paul says, “Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.”

When you come to the day, in childlike innocence, like my PawPaw, what will be the words you recognize? What words will dominate your inmost being? What words and theology are forming you?

Moving (on)

Moving is never fun. It doesn't matter where you're moving from or where you're moving to, the process of moving sucks life right out of you. After an exhausting graduation weekend filled with the stresses of speaking at the ceremony, cleaning out my office and apartment and all of my family coming into town, I moved into a room at DP's townhouse. But moving into DP's townhouse represented so much more than just another moving experience. It represented moving on from college. In so many ways I was ready to move, but for so many reasons I was content to simply live in Wise 1 and 2 for the rest of my life.

Needless to say, I did move on. And I'm glad I did. It was healthy and I feel like I'm where I need to be right now. To have that peace is a wonderful feeling and I love where I'm at in life right now!



oh yeah, this happened close to graduation too.
"Glow with the Flow"

A Happy Camper

One of the only things I can think of more fun than going to summer camp, is going to summer camp as a counselor. Over the summer, I had the privilege of working with two summer camps, Tennessee and Kentucky. On top of that, I got to work at these camps with five of my best friends. On top of that, we were given the keys to golf carts and basically raised heck for a solid week. (Hopefully somewhere in their kids lives where changed) We weren't the typical camp counselor's but rather we had been hired to help ensure everything behind the scenes went smooth. Which meant service production, meal time, late night activities, etc.

Some of my favorite memories from those camps came late at night after the campers were asleep. We would take the golf carts out and basically trash them. We would do wheelies, sled behind them in the mud, and race through a foot of standing water. We also played our own version of Mario-Kart, with our own made up weapons of choice.

Races around Trevecca's campus has almost killed two of my friends. I honestly thought I had chopped off Will's head with the roof of the golf cart when I flipped it. Luckily, Will is a shifty little son of a gun and somehow managed to survive. I thought Jake died when he willingly jumped out of a kart I was driving to try to win a race. Below is a sweet pic of his war-time injury.

If you've never been crazy with a golf cart, I highly suggest it


Jake with the lovely Mrs. Rita Storey

The Scene

Nashville has a reputation for good music. And not just country music as the stereotype often is. I love going to shows, even though I don't do it often enough. Over the Spring I went to one of my favorite shows I've been to in Nashville as I saw Fiction Family. Fiction Family consists of Jon Foreman (from Switchfoot) and Sean Watkins (from Nickel Creek). Both are extremely talented performers and musicians. I saw them at the Historic Belcourt Theatre which made the experience that much better! I also had the opportunity to hear Thad Cockrell open and he has become one of my favorite artist. Also it didn't hurt to be surrounded by some of my best friends at the show. Here are a couple awesome cell videos and photos... enjoy.




Sean Watkins covering a Nickel Creek's 'Somebody more like you'

Family Times

I just got home from spending the afternoon and evening with my Aunt and her family. I truly love spending time with my family during the Holidays... heck, I love being around my family just about anytime, especially my immediate family. I think it's amazing that even though we all live different lives that when we come together we seem to pick up right where we left off. Sure we have some new stories to tell and pictures to show, but the plot line is the same. I love that security and that feeling. I often take for granted the family I have, but I truly am thankful for my family...

Which brings me to one of my favorite events of the year... thanksgiving in Sea Level, NC. This year we had a Taylor Family reunion in Sea Level, NC. (Sea Level is the name of the little town) That little town has great connections to my family heritage as 3 or 4 generations of Taylors, prior to my grandad, had lived there. It's just like any rural small town, but it's on edge of the Atlantic. My great-grandfather owned the only general store, and from the stories seemed to have been the entrepreneur and business man of Sea Level. So whenever we go there, I feel a sense of entitlement as we roam the streets, because my great-grandfather was once the well-to-do man in town. Funny the way your mind works sometimes I guess. But this thanksgiving we went there and I got to hear all the old stories again. There's nothing better than hearing an old aunt tell a story about the good ole days. Sometimes I think I was meant to live in that time period... (other times I grateful I wasn't!)

This thanksgiving was filled with fun and laughter, fishing and catching, as well as family and eating. All of which are my favorites. Being around family for a solid week is trying at times, but the memories created are worth every moment of tension. Watching my little cousin eat three honey buns while fishing was great and seeing his eyes after somehow pulling up an eel are memories worth millions. Catching fish constantly at the "Blue Fish Rodeo" was worth the freezing rain and miserable conditions. Staying up ridiculously late to fish and only catching a cold, was worth every minute.

Needless to say, I love my family and I'm thankful for every moment I have with them.
Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Sea Level, NC on a map. "A"


Dolphins were swimming beside the boat!

Cape Lookout on the OBX

Tay Tay and his mom fishin!

"Lay off me, i'm starving"

Friday Night Live is a tradition at Trevecca unparalleled. I absolutely love this event and it is one of those nights where memories are always made. After being in charge of the event my Junior year, I was happy to simply participate and watch the show this year. This year we did our own version of "Gap Girls" staring Chris Farley, David Spade, and Jeff Daniels. It was probably one of my favorite skits that I was apart of at Trevecca. It's hard to describe the events and videos that took place but FNL is always so much fun and the memories from that night will stick with me for years to come.

Here are a couple of my favorite videos from years past:






And a picture from this year