everything that's on my mind
(as if there's not already enough people doing this)Friday, September 02, 2005
Spilled root beer
Found out today Chris Tomlin is going to be in concert here in Little Rock on October 25. He's one of my favorites, and I've never seen him live, so I'm pretty excited about that...
My son cracks me up. He's 17 months old, and he's doing a lot of imitating now. You can get him to do (and sometimes say) all kinds of things, even when you’re not trying to.
The other day my wife was sitting in the living room and had a can of root beer on a table next to the chair she was sitting in. My son was in her lap, and about the time I walked in, he lunged for the can and knocked it over. It spilled a little on the arm of the chair and the carpet below. Being a new house, I quickly went after something with which I could clean up the mess.
My wife told me later that, after I left the room, he took a wet-wipe and starting rubbing it on the floor, then on the arm of the chair, where the drink had spilled. It was just one more reminder that he's watching me, and imitating what I do.
So, another song... I've been listening to this one a lot over the last couple of weeks. It asks questions that I've had to ask of myself a lot recently: Who am I imitating? Is it Jesus - the real Jesus - or someone else, some 'cleaned up' version of Jesus I've invented to make life a little easier? Important questions, especially considering somebody is imitating me.
I'll probably write more on this subject, as well as more on this song, too. But for now, here's it is...
My Jesus
words by Todd Agnew
Which Jesus do you follow?
Which Jesus do you serve?
If Ephesians says to imitate Christ
Why do you look so much like the world?
`Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the arrogant
So which one do you want to be?
Blessed are the poor in spirit
But do we pray to be blessed with the wealth of this land?
Blessed are they that hunger and thirst for righteousness
But do we ache for another taste of this world of shifting sand?
'Cause my Jesus bled and died for my sins
He spent His time with thieves and sluts and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the rich
So which one do you want to be?
Who is this that you follow?
This picture of the American dream
If Jesus was here, would you walk right by on the other side
Or fall down and worship at His holy feet?
Pretty blue eyes and curly brown hair and a clear complexion
Is how you see Him as He dies for your sins
But the word says He was battered and scarred
Or did you miss that part?
Sometimes I doubt we`d recognize Him
`Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and the least of these
He loved the poor and accosted the comfortable
So which one do you want to be?
`Cause my Jesus would never be accepted in my church
The blood and dirt on His feet might stain the carpet
But He reaches for the hurting and despises the proud
And I think He`d prefer Beale Street to the stained glass crowd
And I know that He can hear me if I cry out loud
I want to be like my Jesus
Not a poster child for American prosperity
But like my Jesus
See I'm tired of living for success and popularity
I want to be like my Jesus
But I'm not sure what that means
To be like you Jesus
'Cause you said to live like you, to love you
But then you died -- for me
Can I be like you Jesus?
I want to be like you Jesus
I want to be like my Jesus
My son cracks me up. He's 17 months old, and he's doing a lot of imitating now. You can get him to do (and sometimes say) all kinds of things, even when you’re not trying to.
The other day my wife was sitting in the living room and had a can of root beer on a table next to the chair she was sitting in. My son was in her lap, and about the time I walked in, he lunged for the can and knocked it over. It spilled a little on the arm of the chair and the carpet below. Being a new house, I quickly went after something with which I could clean up the mess.
My wife told me later that, after I left the room, he took a wet-wipe and starting rubbing it on the floor, then on the arm of the chair, where the drink had spilled. It was just one more reminder that he's watching me, and imitating what I do.
Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. (Eph 5:1, The Message)
So, another song... I've been listening to this one a lot over the last couple of weeks. It asks questions that I've had to ask of myself a lot recently: Who am I imitating? Is it Jesus - the real Jesus - or someone else, some 'cleaned up' version of Jesus I've invented to make life a little easier? Important questions, especially considering somebody is imitating me.
I'll probably write more on this subject, as well as more on this song, too. But for now, here's it is...
My Jesus
words by Todd Agnew
Which Jesus do you follow?
Which Jesus do you serve?
If Ephesians says to imitate Christ
Why do you look so much like the world?
`Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the arrogant
So which one do you want to be?
Blessed are the poor in spirit
But do we pray to be blessed with the wealth of this land?
Blessed are they that hunger and thirst for righteousness
But do we ache for another taste of this world of shifting sand?
'Cause my Jesus bled and died for my sins
He spent His time with thieves and sluts and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the rich
So which one do you want to be?
Who is this that you follow?
This picture of the American dream
If Jesus was here, would you walk right by on the other side
Or fall down and worship at His holy feet?
Pretty blue eyes and curly brown hair and a clear complexion
Is how you see Him as He dies for your sins
But the word says He was battered and scarred
Or did you miss that part?
Sometimes I doubt we`d recognize Him
`Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and the least of these
He loved the poor and accosted the comfortable
So which one do you want to be?
`Cause my Jesus would never be accepted in my church
The blood and dirt on His feet might stain the carpet
But He reaches for the hurting and despises the proud
And I think He`d prefer Beale Street to the stained glass crowd
And I know that He can hear me if I cry out loud
I want to be like my Jesus
Not a poster child for American prosperity
But like my Jesus
See I'm tired of living for success and popularity
I want to be like my Jesus
But I'm not sure what that means
To be like you Jesus
'Cause you said to live like you, to love you
But then you died -- for me
Can I be like you Jesus?
I want to be like you Jesus
I want to be like my Jesus
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