Our God is mighty to save

Hillsong United came to San Antonio two nights ago. While I am not a very big fan of Christian music in general (a story for another time), these guys are amazing. From the moment they took the stage, it was evident that, not only are they phenomenal musicians and showmen, but that they, above all, wanted to glorify God and inspire people to worship with them. The atmosphere was wonderful and full of energy.

The last concert I went to was Jason Mraz's Gratitude Café Tour in Austin. That was the best concert I've ever been to. The difference is that at Mraz's concert, everyone was there solely to see a fantastic musician and hear fantastic music. At Hillsong, everyone was there to, yes, see fantastic musicians, but also to praise God and worship him with this incredible praise band. It was a wonderful experience. Thousands of God's people gathered together to honor and exalt Him.

Savior

He can move the mountains

Our God is mighty to save

He is mighty to save

Forever

Author of salvation

Our God is mighty to save

He is mighty to save

Love, Shelley

"Music is such an expensive habit"

The current most played artists on my iTunes: Jason Mraz, The Beatles, Ingrid Michaelson, The Killers, Tom Petty, Blue October, The Ditty Bops, Regina Spektor, Joshua Radin, Brendan James, Alexa Wilkinson.

I don't know that I would call myself a "music geek." But I'm not sure what I would call myself. I am deeply passionate about music. For the past seven years, I have been paying my dues and doing my time to get to where I am with music. I appreciate good music. I do not appreciate bad music. I have a critical ear. Music is something that everyone loves, but not everyone is good at. It does not necessarily make me mean, arrogant, closed-minded or any less in love with music because I am not afraid to say that a good number of people in popular music are not good musicians. I am entitled to my own opinions as much as you are entitled to disagree with them.

I long to see the day when real musicians dominate popular music once again.

Unfortunately, these days, people are obsessed with the following sad excuses for artists:

Ke$ha. I have a theory that this girl represents everything wrong with popular music. Countless songs about drunken hookups? Check. Autotune? Check. Elementary rhymes? Check. Bonus White Trash factor? Check check.

Orianthi. I will be the first to admit: Orianthi is an incredibly gifted guitarist. The sad thing is, she's not satisfied with that, and seems to think that since she's such a great guitarist, she must be able to sing as well. Sad, sad misunderstanding. Her current single, "According to You," which is topping the charts, is just plain awful. I would not be surprised if a fifth grade girl wrote it.

Justin Bieber. Aside from being essentially a sweatshop kid, who told him it was a good idea to use "Baby, baby, baby oh (x2)" as a chorus? Poor kid.

Miley Cyrus. Sweetheart, try singing without sounding like you have a sinus infection. Also, try not to call yourself a Christian, then pole dance at a kids' awards show. And if you're not too busy, you might give good songwriting a try. You are one of the mass of teenage girls who think that pretty face=pretty voice.

Don't get me wrong, there have been some wonderful exceptions. Jason Mraz almost single-handedly brought real music back into the mainstream. How? Because he knows how to play his instruments well, he has a classically smooth voice, and his use of the English language is unparalleled. Blue October (one of the only rock bands I enjoy) also fought through the mess of bad music to make it. Lead singer Justin Furstenfeld's painfully impassioned voice mixed with their creative and beautiful use of not only electric, but classical instruments and very relatable, yet still original, lyrical concepts made them a very interesting and stimulating band. There are others, such as The Killers, Sara Bareilles, Staind, Ben Folds, etc.

I only wish these amazing musicians and bands weren't up against such nonsense competition and a musically ignorant generation. It's a hard fight upstream. But don't worry, your day is coming soon. One day, everyone will wake up and realize the beauty of real music. For the present, though, to avoid stooping to mediocrity, I am more than content to a) err on the side of indie, where the most wonderful artists reside and make beautiful music for the few people interested, and b) go way back, listening to the music my parents grew up on.

In love and truth, Shelley.

Purpose

I am a Christian. Why? Because God, though I did nothing to deserve it, called me out of death and into eternal life. I am His and He is mine. Forever. Because of this marvelous grace, I strive to live my life as He commands. It is an impossible task, because He is perfect and I am not (hence the grace). But I still purpose to glorify Him in everything I do. I also identify myself as a Calvinist. My personal beliefs have aligned themselves with the Scriptural teachings of John Calvin. I am aware that most Christians do not hold the same views that I do. I will gladly and enthusiastically enter into a theological debate with you about what I believe and defend it with Scripture, but it is not my calling to make Calvinists of all nations. It is my calling to make disciples of all nations. My non-Calvinist colleagues and friends are no less-saved than I am.

I am a daughter. It is my responsibility as such to respect and honor my parents. I am expected to follow every rule, command and advice from my parents. You would think that seeing as how I have the most wonderful parents in the world, it would be ridiculously easy for me to do so. Unfortunately, this is not the case. God knows I have pushed (and broken) their boundaries countless times. But at the end of the day, I know that they still love me, I know that I love them, and that is enough for me to try my hardest not to make the same mistakes again.

I am a sister. I have been blessed with the eight most fantastic people ever as my siblings. We have our disagreements, of course, but we are each other's family and best friends, and I owe it to all of them to love them unconditionally and forgive every flaw. It is my privilege to be there for all of them when they need me, to buy them a drink, to bring them a bowl in which to vomit, to aimlessly chatter with them, to defend their names to others and to babysit their kids.

I am a friend. Although many times I'm bad at deserving them, I have some amazing friends. As a friend, it is my job always to be there if you need to talk, laugh, cry, curse, sleep or hug. It is my job to be honest with you, about the positive and negative. It is also my job to let you be the same for me. My most treasured friends are the ones who love me enough to tell me when I am wrong. Like I said, I don't really deserve these friendships, but since I am blessed enough to have them, I strive to be as good a friend to you as you are to me.

I am a musician. God gave me talent. I am not afraid to admit that. He gave me the ability to sing and play piano. I was not given talent to squander. I was purposed to cultivate it, to discipline myself and to use it all for His glory. My music is to be for no audience but Him. As such, I strive to be the best musician I can, because I am playing for the King of Kings.

I am a person. This may sound arbitrary, seeing as how we are all people. That is exactly my point. No two people are exactly the same, so stop trying to imitate someone else and try creating someone you. I have a responsibility to myself to be true to myself. It would be an insult to my unique character if I were to emulate another unique character. I am me.

Whatever you are and whatever you do, be purposeful. Leave nothing half-fulfilled. If you're going to do something, do it really, really well.

Love, Shelley.

c'est pour vous

If you see something you don't understand, how do you respond? Do you a) let it go and accept that you are not meant to understand it (negative capability), b) make a concerted effort to understand it (self-improvement), or c) presume that because you can't understand it, you are better than it (arrogance)? The first is my preferred option, the second is very common and perfectly acceptable, the third is dangerous, shameful, and all too common. I am of the mindset that if something is unclear to me (especially when it does not directly apply to me), it is not meant to weigh down my mind. I know many, many people (including my vastly intelligent mother) who fixate upon learning and understanding everything. I am of the opinion that this is unnecessary, but my brain is wired differently than most. This activity works for many people, and they are the more intelligent for it. Unfortunately, still others prefer to "rise above" what they don't understand and deride it in order to make themselves feel superior. I feel that this is a sad and sometimes hurtful attempt to hide personal insecurities.

Ignorance can be fruitful, and it can also be dangerous. Arrogance is never fruitful, and is always dangerous. I prefer to err on the side of caution and shy away from foreboding absolutes.

Peace and love, Shelley.

a violent grace

Today is Easter. The time when we eat lots of candy, wear pastels, take family pictures and, most importantly, of course, commemorate and celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ. He is risen, He is risen indeed.

So ruthless He loves us

So reckless His embrace

To show relentless kindness to a

Hardened human race

The joy that was before Him

On the Man of Sorrows' face

And by His blood

He bought a violent grace

We were dead, but Christ died that we might have life in Him. And not only did He die a human death, but He conquered death.

After a Holy Week as busy as l'enfer, which included a full week of school, some planning for my senior recital, two music practices for separate events, an attempt at bowling, a wedding rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, girls night out post-rehearsal dinner, wedding (for which I was in charge of all ceremony music) and Easter Sunday music, I decided to wrap up the week by pulling out the table in the kitchen, only to have it knock into the preceding bench, causing the bench to kindly smash the top of my foot. Never in my life have I been so close to screaming obscenities*. I was convinced my foot was broken. After waking up from my flexeril-induced siesta, I'm not so sure it's broken. But one thing's for sure--I'm going to have a beast of a bruise.

*In the presence of children*.

*And their parents.

My birthday is in 2 months. 2 months left to be a legal child. I could go through the cliché spiel about never wanting to grow up (which I could make very interesting and verbose) vs. everyone has to grow up (which I could make very emotional) vs. I've been waiting my whole life to grow up (which I could make very convincing), but instead I'll just leave you with this: I've got growing up to do.

Love, Shelley.