Church is Where the Wild Things Are

I just got back from seeing "Where the Wild Things Are". I'm not usually this reactionary (in blog posts anyway), but I've just got to say this: all church people should see this movie. Here's why:

The church is supposed to be tight. Not tight in the hip hop kind of way (i.e., "cool"). Not tight in the literal sense (i.e., "in very close proximity"). Tight in the sense of emotional closeness. The trendy phrase for this right now in church growth circles is "living in community". I guess that's not too bad a description. It'll do for now.

In the film, a boy visits a far off land with monsters. Really, they're just people with different personalities who look like monsters. They make him king. They have different dispositions and opinions. They wound each other (one rips the arm off of another in anger). They sleep in a pile. They build things together, and have fights about what should or should not be built. They leave. They come back. Some are not accepting of new monsters (owls, actually). So, they're pretty much like every church I've ever experienced.

One complains all the time. One is quiet. One is accommodating. They live in community, but it's rough. Toward the end of the film, one of the monsters says, "being a family is hard". They put up with each other's flaws. They are stuck in behavior patterns that they seemingly are doomed to repeat over and over again.

The ripping off of an arm was what really struck me as something common in church behavior. Not literally, of course. But, the kind of senseless hurting that sometimes happens when people live in community hit me hard. My wife and I have heard back biting comments about us from church people all too often. I've got to tell you that I don't think that we're that bad. We're certainly not as bad or inept as some church people have made us out to be. And yet, we still live in community with those people. Well, some of them. Some of them were at other churches we've worked at.

The movie ends with reconciliation of a kind. The king (the boy) leaves to go back to his human family. The aggressor of the film groans, as does the boy, both bemoaning their actions, the situation, and, in a way, the human condition. The aggressor, the monster, it is inferred, feels bad. Maybe he even learns something, like not to rip the arms off of others, like controlling his anger is a good thing.

Being a family, being a church family, is hard. I guess I can deal with the disagreements and fighting and event the snide comments if, when the dust settles, something is learned, something is resolved. What I've seen more of, unfortunately, is people being polarized, and nothing coming to resolution. Maybe if we could see ourselves in these monsters, maybe it would.

We're Getting the Band Back Together

I found two bands this year that I absolutely love: Superdrag and Wilco. I'll sidestep the latter in this post: you've heard enough from me regarding them. I'll only say about Superdrag that they should be as well known as Foo Fighters, and that John Davis' second solo (and straight up Jesus) record is the among the best (read: THEE best) records ever put out by someone who loves Jesus. For real, dude. John's not always been in the faith, but a lot of the pre-Jesus Superdrag records reflect that struggle.

Superdrag had one big hit in the mid 90's, the post-grunge anti industry slice of pop called "Sucked Out". I dismissed them, and that album, Regretfully Yours, as some hipster/Beatles wanna be. After that, I didn't have to worry about it. I didn't really hear from them again. Flash forward to 2007, when some of my internet friends (also big music fans and Christians) are raving about John's solo record. I heard it and I was hooked.

During their decline, they had line-up changes, and then they were put on hiatus, which is what bands say when they're breaking up, but don't want to say it. The original line-up then regrouped in 2008. John had said what the Blues Brothers said many years ago: "we're getting the band back together".

I'm thinking that this phrase is kind of like saying "I'm having a mid-life crisis" or "I'm out of royalty money" or some other idea that is spurring you on to revisit something that was successful. Of course, the only correct reason to get the band back together is to create more good art.

Oh man, are Christians really bad about getting the band back together.

Not that they are assembling actual bands and going on reunion tours, but they are really bad (meaning they do it a lot) about dwelling on past glories and behaviors. Being a music guy, I've heard it all: "We used to do _________. Why don't we do ________ any more?" Or: "Back in '52 we did _________, and it was really successful. We should do it again in the exact same way."

But, when the goal is to replicate something that happened before, you've missed the point. With the Gospel, as well as music, your goal is to communicate. And, to do that, you have to communicate what you want to say in a relevant way, which will mean that you'll have to explain the Gospel in a fresh way. You'll have to write new songs, not just put out another greatest hits package and go on tour (I'm looking at you, Styx and Poison). In the words of Jesus, you'll have to reclaim your first love.

Music geeks love Bob Dylan, but regular folk can't figure out why he's still recording and touring. Well, it's because he's the opposite of those artists just cashing in, the opposite of those church people who are living in the past. Of course, he never had to get the band back together. He's been on the never ending tour since the 80's.

I have a personal interest in the idea of "getting the band back together": I want to do it. I still write songs all the time, and I want to play them in a band. I'm a little too old to want to do that, I suppose, but it's not about being young, but having something to express. I also want that for churches, including the church I'm at now, and the churches I've worked at in the past. I want them to regroup (if they need to), and do what bands who reunite should do, which is to get back to why you exist in the first place, and let what you do emanate from that raison d'etre. Jesus addresses this with the church at Ephesus:

"Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place." (Revelation 2:4-5)

I don't have a problem with reunion tours, as long as the artists have something new to say. Then again, I'm the guy that wants the band to play songs off of its new record.

Well Known Pastors and The Stuff They Say and Do

Being either an early or late adapter (never adapting when most people do it), I'm either usually really early or late to trends and pop culture, and even popular church culture. For example, I was early on Rob Bell (thanks to my wife finding "Velvet Elvis" in a Barnes & Noble), and late to Shane Claiborne. So late on Shane, in fact, that I'm just now reading "The Irresistible Revolution". I didn't even buy the book. I found it laying around the church.

A couple of blog posts are of interest, including this one at Church Marketing Sucks. It's all about North Point Community Church building a $5 million bridge for improved parking and traffic flow at their facility that holds thousands of folks every Sunday. For me, being smack in the middle of Shane's book, but always having a nagging feeling about how churches spend their money, I've got to ask: Really? You're really going to do that?

Sarah Silverman (comedian) has proposed that the Vatican do what Jesus told us to do and feed the poor. How? Sell the Vatican. It's a silly three minute clip that I won't link here because of language content, but it's very tongue in cheek, and parts of it are funny. And, in its weird little way, it begs the question: why do churches have (or are asking for) all kinds of money while people are starving? Claiborne's book echoes that sentiment.

I think I could argue the other side, too: people need to know Jesus. Unchurched people have all kinds of reasons why they don't go to church, and, in the case of North Point, one reason could be that it's a pain to drive in and out of their parking lot. I get it. But contrast this with Jesus telling people that if we are to follow Him, we must take up our cross and deny ourselves. It begs the question, what are we "churching" people into? Jesus was up front about the cost of following Him, and the expecations therein. Spending millions of dollars so that people won't be inconveinenced seems to send the wrong message to the unchurched. That message seems to be that we want to serve you, so when you decide to keep attending, you can expect being served again and again. Contrast that with people leaving Jesus because His teaching hard to understand or hard to live out, and you'll see the problem.

For those of you who are saying, "Yeah, sure, but YOU take a full-time church salary, and YOU work at a church with a nice facility." Yep, I sure do. But, in the words of Darius Rucker, don't think I don't think about it. I wonder how far is too far.

Rob Bell has been talking about things that churches don't like to talk about. His talking about those things is talked about here. What's interesting are the comments, which misconstrue what the article is saying so that an attack on Bell can be made. I won't explain it, but if you read it, you'll see it, and mourn another nail in the coffin of reasonable discourse.

So, that's the well known pastor round-up. Fascinating, huh?

And now, for no reason, here's a video of Bob Dylan playing "Saved":

Wilco (the blog post)

So, like I said in the last post, I saw Wilco. First time for me. It was one of the best shows I've seen. Liam Finn, a multi-instrumentalist, chronic looper and rock and roll progency, opened the show. Very cool. Wilco's got a new record out, called "Wilco (the album)", which has a song called "Wilco (the song)" (more about that in a minute). My wife bought a tote bag at the show, which has on it silk screened "Wilco (the tote)".

I've only recently really been into Wilco. They've been on my radar for a while, ever since their first record, "A.M.". But, they never really clicked for me until the last year or so. Now, much like Superdrag for me, I'm trying to get ahold of everything on vinyl by them that I can. I know, though, that, initially, I wasn't interested. Let me take you back to 1995.

In the early 90's, there was "alternative" music, and the teenagers saw that it was good. They bought copious amounts of it. Most of them didn't realize that, since they'd mainstreamed this "alternative" (read: Grunge), that it was no longer alternative. During that whole time when all these flannel wearers killed glam rock, there was a whole other undercurrent, which was the "No Depression" movement. Well, maybe not a movement. But, it was its own thing. It was called alt. country, Americana or who knows what else. It was rocked up country. Twangy punk. Whatever. And elitist music snobs like myself saw that IT was good, too. But, most others didn't notice.

Out of old country, rock and even punk influence came this Alternative Country stuff, and Uncle Tupelo was a part of it. The Jayhawks, too. And some other great bands as well. Uncle Tupelo played twangy country loudly. And there were two main guys in UC: Jay Farrar and Jeff Tweedy. In a few years, deals were signed, tours were booked, a major label record was recorded and released, and the fighting and pettyness that success can bring reared its pointed little head. Jay wouldn't sing back up on Jeff's songs when they toured, they got into physical altercations, and so forth. UC split. Jay formed Son Volt. Jeff formed Wilco.

I read about all this at the time, and here's what I thought. Aren't two gifted songwriters better than one? Why are they such big babies? They're living the dream as rock stars. They were living MY dream, and they were being whiny brats. They were what was wrong with music, where musicians did their own thing instead of collaboration, and music suffered. I still think that somewhat today. After all, why can't artists work together when their best work was made together? Why can't churches work together instead of splintering?

Early on in ministry, I once suggested at a meeting of ministers in my town that we just all form one church, just like the early church only had one church in each town. It was so absurd to them, that they didn't even acknowledge that I said it. So, instead of pooling resources, manpower and prayers, small towns all across this country have 10-20 churches, most of them dying. Yeah, that's much better than my idea. Anyway....

Jay and Jeff split, formed two bands, and it was kind of like a divorce for music fans. I picked Jay's Son Volt, at least initially. He had his album out first. The single was good, and Wilco's record, "A.M", didn't get the airplay that Jay's record did. (This was pre-internet-as-music-conduit, kiddies). I stayed up with Son Volt for a while, bought CD's by both artists, but didn't spin 'em as much as other records. I thought I was vindicated in my indictment of both guys: their selfishness had allowed art to suffer.

Then I hear "Wide Swing Tremelo", Son Volt's best record. Then I hear "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot", Wilco's best. Then, I stand corrected. These guys are doing way better following their vision than compromising it for each other.

As always, there's Bible to back it up.

³⁶Some time later Paul said to Barnabas, "Let us go back and visit the brothers in all the towns where we preached the word of the Lord and see how they are doing." ³⁷Barnabas wanted to take John, also called Mark, with them, ³⁸but Paul did not think it wise to take him, because he had deserted them in Pamphylia and had not continued with them in the work. ³⁹They had such a sharp disagreement that they parted company. Barnabas took Mark and sailed for Cyprus, ⁴⁰but Paul chose Silas and left, commended by the brothers to the grace of the Lord. ⁴¹He went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches. (Acts 15:36-41)

Long story short, the Gospel is preached to more places because of the parting of the ways here. Some separation and subsequent segmentation can be good. Uncle Tupelo begat two great bands. I've read a few ministers and Christian authors lamenting the number of church plants that we have in U.S. They think that those church planters should use established churches, I guess. It sounds good, but those churches are so entrenched in their culture sometimes that they can't see any other way to reach out, if they reach out at all.

A friend of mine planted a church close to another church that I'd attended. He'd attended there as well, and had left the community for several years. He came back to plant this church, and, while in that process, talked to the leadership of the church we'd both attended (confused yet?) At the time, I thought, how could he do this? This is a church that has really cared for him. How could he plant another church (rival church, in my thinking) so close to ours? He knew something that I didn't, that our church, because of its traditions and conventions, just wasn't getting the job done, wasn't reaching out to the community and becoming a part of it. I didn't see it, because I didn't know that churches could do that. I'd never seen it work that way.

A lot of ministers I know don't like church plants. I have to say that there is a lot of people coming to Christ because of them, that may not have if there had not been a Christian presence where they were at. They don't have the baggage that some more established churches do. They don't have to appease any group of people in their church, because they don't have any groups in their church. They just have people.

I would also mention church splits in regard to this. Granted, church splits can be very bad, very hurtful, but I also believe that they can be a way to reach out, to give more variety to how we preach the Gospel, much like using different translations of the Bible to reach people where they are at. Church splits and church plants are not the same thing, but both can be used. Like Son Volt and Wilco, or like Barnabas and Paul, you may end up with something greater in the end.

Blogger Did a Bad, Bad Thing

I've been a bad, bad blogger. I've neglected this blog for two months, after years of blogging consistently. Bad, bad blogger. Swat my nose with a rolled up newspaper. Rub my nose in the chasm that has been created by my lack of words.

I have a feeling you are doing fine without my wonderful posts.

But, it's time to get back on the horse, I suppose. So, here's some housekeeping:

1) I've been enjoying Tim's posts at Church Voices about being a bad consumer. Check 'em out:

Be a Bad Consumer
BABC # 2: When You Put it That Way
BABC #3: Credit
BABC #4: The Long Con
BABC #5: You Probably Don't Need Credit

Sit back, read, and enjoy the deconstruction and destruction of group think.

2) I've been involved a lot lately in my research of songwriting, publishing and the music business. I attended Back Third Audio's songwriting conference, have had several songs reviewed by the wonderful folks at NSAI, and have been reading posts on Songramp and Songwriter 101. I will have some posts regarding this soon.

3) Since I posted last, I've seen Phish, U2 and Wilco. Great shows, all. Bob Dylan comes up Chicago way in late October. I'll be there as well.

4) I've added a bunch of blogs to my bloglines reader. Comixed, Up Next in Sports and People of Walmart are the funny ones, and they're all different degrees of funny. People of Walmart is also disturbing, unfortunate or confusing at different times. Lefsetz Letter is a music industry blog. Free Range Kids and Phoenix Preacher are self explanatory. Not all posts on these blogs are "G" rated, and I don't endorse all of the content, so I don't want to see any nasty comments about these links. We're all grown-ups here, right?

5) Question: If you aren't downloading songs from Daytrotter's concert series, why not?

6) Chynna Phillips records a Christian album. See what happens when I'm not paying attention to my blog?

Next up: a post about Uncle Tupelo.

It's a Guitar Player Thing...

I just finished watching the film "Crazy", a biopic about Nashville session ace Hank Garland. Hank played on all kinds of records by Elvis Presley, Patsy Cline and a bunch of other late 1950's and early 1960's artists. He had his own hit with "Sugarfoot Rag" in 1959, and recorded a Country-influenced Jazz album the next year, with a quartet that included the drummer from the Dave Brubeck Quartet.

That jazz/country record was a big deal for its time: it showed that country guitarists were good, great even, to jazz musicians who turned up their nose at Country music for its corn pone simplicity. You hear some of Hank's licks on some of his records and you stand amazed, just like many of those Jazz artists did. Hank was a musician's musician.

I was just thinking today about how much I love to play, and I'm not getting to do nearly enough. I can't explain why it makes me feel complete, but a guitar in my hands immediately puts me at ease. I'm sure God wired that in me. It's wonderful to have something that you love, that you can do at any time, and that's portable (take that, organ players!)

Hank loved playing, as the film depicts, and as Hank's story goes on you see a talent who is probably headed for some kind of brick wall. Hank's brick wall was a car accident, rumored to be caused by a record label head for Hank's threats on his life. It sounds like a soap opera, but you know how those crazy musicians are. They're, well, crazy.

Hank recovers to a certain extent, and goes home to resume his playing, but he can't. He can fumble around but, as the various biographies of him record, he didn't have the attention span any more to focus on playing with the kind of dexterity that he'd had before. His time in a mental hospital didn't help either, as shock therapy may have robbed him of his greatest gift.

As I watched the scene where he fumbles his once easy playing, I thought of my grandfather. When I was young, my dad and I would go to his house, and a lot of the time he had a group of guys playing jazz tunes with him. I was young, so I was disinterested. "Who cares about that?", I thought. "Why don't they play some Elvis?" They never did.

Later, as a teen, when I'd take my "portable" monolithic CD player to family functions, I'd tune the playing out. My late teens found me playing a bit with him, specifically "All of Me" and "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?" I treasured it at the time, because, with my dad playing, too, this was family to me. This was MY family. This is what my family did.

While I was attending college, my grandfather started to have some memory issues and slurred speech. Eventually, he was diagnosed with Creutzfeldt–Jakob disease, a disease that slowly and increasingly impairs the mind. He would spent his last months in a nursing home, visited by a steady stream of family and friends. When I visited, he'd write down indecipherable notes on small pieces of paper, or tell a story of which you could barely make out a handful of the words. And then he'd pull out his guitar from the closet, and try to play a couple of simple chords, strumming unevenly. He'd mumble something frustratingly, and then put it back in its case, with help from my dad or me.

I'm not a big cryer, and I didn't cry whenever I visited him, or at his funeral. I'm just not someone who cries very much, if at all. But, at that visit where he tried to play, I felt the weight of it. I understood that he was not my grandfather any more. There wouldn't be any more jam sessions into late hours, and there would be no more jazz chords that I'd have to learn on the spot to try and keep up. So, I mourned the way that often do when mourning is appropriate: I play.

I know that what you do, even what you love, is not the sum total of who you are. But, for those people who have a passion and a gift, and whose identity is wrapped up in both, it's very hard to separate, either for them or for those who know them. I'm one of those people, and you may be as well. If so, you know you'd do that thing, that gift, whatever it is, all the time if your spouse or your job or common sense would let you. I understand.

I think the lesson here is that you should find the time, and find the way, that you can do your thing. Enjoy the joy that it brings to you. Revel in it, even. Not because it may be gone someday, but in spite of that. Or, find the thing that you want to do. It wasn't placed inside of you so that you could push it down until it shuts up. I always got the impression that "growing up" was code for giving up what you love. But, my grandfather, even to the end, even when he couldn't do it any more, never did.

Sometimes, if you stick around long enough instead of giving up, cool stuff happens. A few weeks ago, I got to play a couple of shows with one of my musical heroes, Mike Roe. If anything, life is teaching me to not give up.

Live from My Garage Sale

Yeah...I'm writing this post as I sit and wait for another customer to give me a quarter from a toy that my son doesn't want, or a CD that's outlived my interest in it.

There's also a laserdisc player. An organ. Computer cables. Old 78 records. Anyone need a corded phone? I didn't think so.

How (and why) did I acquire all of these things? Much of it came from garage sales, so there's a little bit of nonsense in that cycle of buying and selling. The books and CD's are being sold for a lot less that I paid when they were new. I paid full price for U2's side band project, Passengers, when it first came out, which was probably a $12 dollar investment. Now, you can get it only inside my garage, only until this afternoon, for $.25. That is roughly 2% of what I paid for it.

Speaking of my garage sale CD's, they are the CD's that FYE, Co-op Records and Allied Record Exchange did not buy. They are the albums that three record stores in two different states would not buy to resell. They are selling equally as well at my sale.

My son remarked, as he was squirming and sitting by me, that it would be great if you could buy everything ever. An adult in earshot remarked that, yes, it would be. And then, as if to underscore some kind of slight sadness, some unfulfilled wish, under her breath repeated the same thing. Knowing from anecdotes and statistics that wealth does not bring happiness, I pondered how life might be if I could buy anything I ever wanted. Maybe when I was younger, that might have been impressive. Now, I'm excited about having less stuff, not more. I was a little saddened that the adult who agreed with my child's comment was a more seasoned citizen, roughly in her 60's. I'm always surprised when I meet older folks who seem to have not figured what I have about life. They are the ones who should know better.

I sold most of my 8-track tapes. I never look at them, let alone play them. I have a ton of office books, mostly church or Bible related. Most of them I've never read. I'm selling my Mini Disc deck with 10 discs. I hardly ever use it. I'm keeping my portable MD recorder. I use that quite a bit. I'm almost appalled that we had enough stuff for two garage sales in two years. But, I'm glad that we've had them. Stuff is not the stuff of life. We had a few early garage sale buyers who, arriving ten minutes early, and driving by the house a half hour early, may not know that.

A garage sale tells you, yells back at you, what has important to you at different times in your existence. It's a documentary on your life, using not film, clever camera angles and narration, but items purchased and money spent. It's all on display, your dreams and schemes, your passions and pursuits, your hobbies and whims, and it's all being haggled over.

Remember when you got those Dr. Martens shoes after shopping for them for months? Now, someone is trying to get you to take less than the price you marked on them, which was already too low. And then you remember how cool it was to have them, and how you wore them out the day you got them. Or what about that band you really liked? You bought their CD's and shirts, saw them in concert, and now you can't give the CD's away. If you're me, you can't give away CD's of the band that you were in. This crap on a table represents time spent and emotional investment, but none of that context is relevant to the bargain seekers who are pilfering your items and messing up your neatly placed junk.

I once went to a garage sale where I found an old pair of headphones. These were the big kind, the kind that will shut out the world, and give you a headache for the trouble because they're so clunky. I used to love those kinds of headphones (still do) because they sound great. So, I picked them up, and noticed that the wire was a bit frayed and had electrical tape on it. I asked a younger woman if they worked, to which she replied that they were her father's, who was an airline pilot, who was now dead. "He was a great man who never had any junk", she said; everything he bought was of high quality. None of this was stated to make a sale, but to keep and affirm a memory of a person she'd dearly loved. My question not answered, I placed the headphones down slowly as she walked by. Clearly, I had touched a nerve inadvertantly. Those headphones had context, weight and history attached to them. She was throwing all that in for free, and maybe I should have purchased them for that reason alone.

But, they would have ended up in my garage sale eventually.

The Late Friday Night Ponderous Post

It's late Friday night. I'm done recording for the evening. The more pensive side of me notices that I've not posted anything in nearly a month. Given that I used to post every week, sometimes twice a week, I suppose I should say why.

I've been busy, of course. And, I've also covered most of what I've wanted to say regarding God, church and ministry. Music, on the other hand, still is a vast untapped resource. The podcast, UU#1, has done well, and people have listened. I hope to do that more regularly in the fall.

The big thing about not posting for a month is that it allows you to decompress your thoughts. I've still got a lot of 'em. But, I've been pouring my attention into songwriting, and most of my free time goes there.

Songs. I've got a ton of 'em. If I had to count, I'd say around 150. Many are not good, but some are decent. I watched a DVD today of my old band, Jonas and the Big Tree, and I was impressed. Not only was the playing good, but some of the songs were decent. I was encouraged by that.

My friend Tim mentions the book "Outliers" quite a bit. I've not read it, but I know the premise. Those who are successful have put in roughly 10,000 hours of time to become successful. They are also in the right place and the right time. I wonder if I've put in 10,000 hours in on either music or ministry. I think I have with music. I used to play guitar for hours every day. Sometimes, I still do.

When I was younger, all I ever wanted to do was play in a band. I didn't have to sing, or write songs, I just wanted to play. I still love the feeling of playing, almost more than playing and singing. I could do it for 10,000 hours (that's around 417 days) and not get tired of it. In the 23 years I've been playing guitar, I've never taken a break from it, never gotten sick of it.

It's hard to believe that I'm old enough to have done anything for 23 years. But, when God wires you a certain way to do a certain thing, it's quite believable. You want to do it a lot. I'm not quite sure that the Purpose Driven life concept is how I understand how we figure out what God made us to do. I don't think He gifted us for careers as much as He gives abilities to honor Him and enjoy life. Whether you get paid for it is quite a different manner. Ask most musicians. Or most people.

Then again, I do believe that you should do what you love, if possible, for money. For your livelihood. Nothing wrong with that. That way, you probably get to spend more time on it. It also might become a burden, but that's the chance you take. My goal is that, in some way, I earn my living from music (So far, so good). In that, there is ministry, even if it's not always full-time church ministry.

So, after a "recording session" (if my late night office recording can be termed as such), I'm waxing philosophical after a particularly rewarding few hours. It's times like this that I miss my grandfather, who loved to play as well. I'm grateful for that, and feel that his and my father's influence of music is a great heritage for me, and for my son. Yeah, that might sound a little weird, the word "heritage", but what else would you call a passion handed down through three generations (now working ont he fourth!). And, it wasn't like we got the family business. There was never any pressure. It just happened. Us Evans men like our music, and I feel that deeply.

Like Garth from "Wayne's World" (yeah, "Wayne's World") said at the end of a ripping drum solo at a music store, "I like to play". Put a guitar in my hands and I'm instantly more at ease, no matter what the situation. My question for you is this: what makes you feel like this? You don't have to answer it here, of course. But, maybe just ponder it: what did God wire within you that, when you do it or experience it, makes you feel right? God is the answer to the question of what makes you feel complete. I understand that. But, what did God give you that makes you feel like....well.....you? Think about that for a little bit. And then, thank Him.