"The Proof Of Your Love"

If I sing but don't have love
I waste my breath with every song
I bring an empty voice, a hollow noise
If I speak with a silver tongue
Convince a crowd but don't have love
I leave a bitter taste with every word I say

So let my life be the proof,
The proof of Your love
Let my love look like You and what You're made of
How You lived, how You died
Love is sacrifice
So let my life be the proof,
The proof of Your love

If I give 
To a needy soul but don't have love then who is poor?
It seems all the poverty is found in me

So let my life be the proof,
The proof of Your love
Let my love look like You and what You're made of
How You lived, how You died
Love is sacrifice
Oh, let my life be the proof,
The proof of Your love

When it's all said and done
When we sing our final song
Only love remains
Only love remains

Let my life be the proof,
The proof of Your love
Let my love look like You and what You're made of
How You lived, how You died
Love is sacrifice
So let my life be the proof,
The proof of Your love.

For King and Country

When the journey's end looks a lot nearer, love is all that matters.  

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1Peter 4:8

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart 

and my portion forever.   Psalms 73:26

Innocence Uninterrupted

There is something in the expanse of sea and
sky that washes away our troubles and leaves
them on the beach to dry. source unknown

Here I go rambling again...
I miss my worship leaders, Dave and Jess. Their departure for a sister church has left our service in limbo; its future yet to be determined. I miss their music. I can't explain it, but I know  music makes a difference in how I offer praise back to God. Melodies from the last two centuries rarely stir me, even though I relish their transforming lyrics. It seems like the theology found in them just sinks deeper within when set to music that reflects the style in which I'm accustomed to listening. Maybe it's the riveting beat of the drums or the clean punch of a good bass; I just know I worship more deeply.
I've asked most of the questions:  Does a personal bent towards contemporary style reflect my immature notions of worship? Am I focusing on my preferences instead of what God desires? Are we making others uncomfortable in our chosen style of corporate worship? Am I willing to sacrifice even a bit?  I'm not sure I have the answers.
But my biggest concern lies with what will deliver the Gospel to those who aren't familiar with corporate worship and to our youngest generations. What style will welcome them to consider my Jesus? Will my young friends I invite to church be distracted by tradition, possibly missing a Savior who wants to radically change their broken lives?
I recall a young fifteen year old, Isaac Watts, sorely irritated by church music he felt was "dead". "Nobody my age can relate to this!" he argued and with the urging of his father, Isaac pushed the envelope with new relevant hymns that grabbed the youth. Even though, the traditionalists hated his "Watts' Whims," they survived and again and again , new discontents,  the young Charles Wesley's, Fanny Crosby's,  Keith Green's, offered a new and more palatable set of chords.  What if no congregation had ever accepted,  adopted the offerings of these worshipers?
Music is a powerful thing...a God-given thing!
Music undeniably can break mental barriers and can open a heart to the Truth found in the Gospel.
Musical taste is wildly varied and trying to meet all preferences in one service runs the risk of not fully engaging anyone. For me, personally, it is terribly distracting.
But I come back to my original concern: What about those who might stay to hear the Truth if they are drawn by the music? Contemporary or Traditional!
Perhaps we need to explore other formats of "doing Church together" as a multi-generational, eclectic body.
But I do think we need to heed Paul's advice:

To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I Cor. 9:22  

There I go rambling again.

Sometimes I feel like singing this along with Evita...

                                        Oh what I'd give for a hundred years
                                        But the physical interferes
                                        Every day more, O my Creator
                                        What is the good of the strongest heart
                                         In a body that's falling apart?A serious flaw,                                                                               
                                         I hope You know that!