Maybe you don’t remember, but a record album (pronounced reh-kerd al-buh-m) was in popular use shortly after the invention of the wheel and hieroglyphics–or so it seems.

A rare sighting of the turntable and stereo. Enormous speakers, not pictured.

In the late 70s my parents bought an advanced piece of music technology. A stereo. This miracle of musical machinery was ensconced behind glass doors to reiterate the fact that all the blinking knobs and dancing decibel lights were off limits to three wide-eyed children.

Half the fun of the stereo was the delicate show on the turn table. The shiny vinyl balanced on the spindle, spun, wobbled, and finally dropped onto the record player. But perhaps the most impressive feature was the set of speakers. They were protected by a distinctively smelling squishy foam, and at four feet high they were taller than me.

My sister and I would lay on the floor in front of those gigantic speakers with one ear pressed into the foam and wait for our favorite Easter song on our favorite record album. As the needle crackled, we prepared to be transported by the voice of Don Francisco to a first century scene. And there, in our mind’s eye, we saw the grieving apostle Peter.

Perhaps that sounds a bit strange. Your favorite song was about the grieving apostle? Well, not exactly. It’s just that we knew the story didn’t end there. The crescendo of the finale was coming, but it always started with a sorrowful Peter.

After contributing to the horrors of the crucifixion, Peter was terrified of arrest and crippled with shame. Don Fransisco sings Peter’s story:

The gates and doors were barred and all the windows fastened down,
I spent the night in sleeplessness and rose at every sound,
Half in hopeless sorrow half in fear the day,
Would find the soldiers crashing through to drag us all away.
Then just before the sunrise I heard something at the wall,
The gate began to rattle and a voice began to call,
I hurried to the window and looked down to the street,
Expecting swords and torches and the sound of soldiers feet,

He’s Alive by Don Fransisco

(Lyrics are here if you’d like to read instead.)

The song ends with the Peter’s encounter with the resurrected Christ. All year long, Don Francisco, my sister, and I would belt it out together: “He’s Alive!!! He’s alive, and I’m forgiven!”

Interestingly, this song was the longest-running chart single in the history of Christian radio.

What makes it so good?

Why was it our favorite?

Why do I always cry?

I think the answer lies, at least in part, in the lyric, “Everything I’d promised Him just added to my shame.”

What had Peter promised? When Jesus warned His twelve friends that they would all bail on Him, they each, including Peter, said, “Surely you don’t mean me?” Then, as if to shore up his devotion, Peter pumped his fist into the air declaring, “Lord, even if all fall away on account of you, I will not! Even if I have to die with you I will never disown you!”

I’m sure Peter meant it. He wasn’t lying to Jesus. Amidst the solemnity of the Passover meal he was earnest. He was ready for heroics! But he wasn’t ready for the humiliation of grace. He was not yet willing to let Jesus die for him.

I think this is why I love the story of Peter and perhaps why so many have loved Don Francisco’s ballad. It is a portrait of God’s grace given even to those who’ve tried to “do it right” and heroically.

I have promised Jesus big and small acts of faith in earnest: Lenten sacrifice, Christmas generosity, and everyday devotion. But everything I’ve promised points to the fact that I can’t even keep my own promises. I fudge on the sacrifice. I’m cautious in generosity. I fall short of commitments I was certain I could accomplish. How much more have I fallen short of a Christ-like generosity and sacrifice?

When we recognize our ineptitude to perfectly carry out our tiny acts of goodness,  we are finally able to receive what Christ offers: His death instead of yours. His perfect life credited to you. In the words of Martin Luther, “The Great Exchange” where Jesus is the hero.

To “celebrate” Christ’s death on Good Friday may seem cryptic or harsh.  But we know what Peter didn’t. Saturday is the grand crescendo and Sunday morning is the celebratory finale.

Happy Easter, Friends.

He’s still alive, and we can be forgiven.

Remembering Holy Week: Five Remarkable Stories of Unremarkable People
is my 5-day e-devotional. It is available for one more day. Click here to find our more, and sign up to receive your FREE copy via email.

The post An Easter Ballad for the Day In Between appeared first on Shauna Letellier.

By Friday, they fled.

Jesus had told them their faith was small, little, even twisted, and as they ran and hid deep in the nearby olive groves, they knew it was true.

What can we do when our faith feels weak and wobbly? May I suggest two prayers? They aren’t fancy or long. Only 3 words each. In fact, they’re borrowed from Scripture.

Two Prayers for When Your Faith Feels Weak

1. Help my unbelief.

Like the man who brought his terrorized child to Jesus, we can pray, “Help my unbelief.” It’s a confession and an acknowledgment of dependence. We want to believe, but often we are so weak we can’t determine whether we believe or not. With these words, we confess our weakness and ask for His help in merely believing. Jesus answers such honest and dependent prayer. You’ll find proof of it in Mark 9 (which also happens to be the first story in my book (<~affiliate link )

2. Hold me fast.

It’s confession and request tied up in three words borrowed from Psalm 139:9-10.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

He is strong to steady us. We need only to ask and depend on him.

Such prayers and concepts are cemented into hearts and minds by music. So I was delighted to learn that Glenna Marshall has written a song that combines these two prayers in a memorable melody.

The title track of her new album is “Hold Me Fast.” Even when a season starts with Hosannah! and ends with Halleleujah!, the in-between time can be confusing. I’m thankful for Glenna’s reminder that Jesus helps my unbelief and holds me fast even when my faith feels weak.

Image by India Konemann. Lyric by Glenna Marshall.

This week as we remember the pivotal moments of Jesus’s mission–to live perfectly, die sacrificially, and rise eternally–we can rest in knowing Jesus is willing to help and hold his children even when their faith is weak.

You can find out more about Glenna Marshall here.  And you can hear a little clip of “Hold Me Fast” by clicking here.
Her new album is available April 28. When you preorder, you’ll immediately be able to download the song titled “Every Sky” immediately. Sneak a listen here:

The post When Your Faith is Weak for Holy Week appeared first on Shauna Letellier.

As a word-lover I especially love meaningful lyrics. So when enjoyable music and thought provoking lyrics bump into each other, I swoon. 

This week as I was buzzing around my kitchen with my Ellie Holcomb Pandora station playing, I heard All Sons and Daughters singing Dawn to Dusk and I was smitten with one particular lyric:                              

                                                        Tomorrow’s freedom is today’s surrender.

 Lovely. Profound. And counter intuitive. After all, doesn’t surrender mean captivity?

In war, yes. 

In sin, yes. 

In Christ, no.

Ironically, I keep applying this profound truth to what seems like mundane and annoying facets of life. 

My steady two-year weight gain for example. Yikes. Did I just say that? That was embarrassing. 

But now that it’s out, it’s a reminder that tomorrow’s health, is dependent (in part) on surrendering thoughtless, excessive eating today. Whoah! That was awkward. NEXT…

My kids keep hearing me sing those five words but what they don’t know is that I’m reminded to apply it in parenting as well. Certain behaviors are easy to ignore when I consider the time and effort I’ll have to surrender in order to deal with them. But tomorrow’s freedom, for me and for my kids, is dependent (in part) on my surrendering the time and effort it takes to address it today. Big sigh. 

And then there is that pesky issue of my cherished sin. The little sins I love to indulge, just a bit. An appetite for gossip. Creative insults. Lashing out. Hating rude people. “Acceptable” sins.

But cherished sin is dangerous, because the more I feed the little creature, the more it grows. And next thing I know, I’m not holding its leash anymore. It is holding me. Demanding to be fed more and more, and I become enslaved to a master of my own making.

Surrendering excess, time, and “acceptable” sin seems constraining and hard. But we don’t surrender because we are gluttons for punishment. We surrender because on the other side of surrender is freedom. 

How do we get there? We endure a little discipline. Sometimes even self-discipline.

“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.” (Hebrews 12:11)

It’s painful. Or at the very least, tiring.

Perhaps the first step is recognizing the creature that’s secretly been holding us captive. Then, for those who train–repeatedly exerting the emotional muscle that resists the weight of excess, or apathy, or “acceptable sins,”–later on, it produces peace, righteousness, and ultimately freedom.                           

And it is for freedom that Christ has set us free. (Gal 5:1)

The post When Freedom Means Giving Up appeared first on Shauna Letellier.

Photo Credit: TiiaBear

In the car, in the kitchen, while I walk, when I worship. 

And nearly every kind. I can appreciate a banjo as well as an intelligent rap and just about anything in between.

I’m amazed that God would use elements as formulaic and functional as math and physics for a composition so artistic and enjoyable as music.

His brilliant combination makes music a powerful tool.

Think of the lyrics you know by heart. You have words from entire songs–perhaps entire albums– tucked away in your brain. With a few starting notes you can recite the words without much effort. 

It is no coincidence that in biblical times children—yes children—could memorize the entire book of Psalms because it was their song book. The soundtrack of their heritage. Add melody to words, repeat regularly, and over time 150 chapters of scripture and history get locked into memory. 

One-hundred-fifty chapters! 

I have trouble remembering phone numbers…except for Jenny’s, “8 6 7 – 5 3 0 ny-eee-I-een.” See what I mean?

I’ve tried to harness this gift for my kids. We’ve set verses to such ridiculous melodies, none of us can forget even if we tried. We’ve also listened to artists such as Ellie Holcomb who has set scripture to music.

But it “cuts both ways” as Gloria Estefan sang.

We’ve had the radio going in the car a lot because… well, I love music. However, while I admire Megan Trainor’s message in “All About that Bass,” I cringe when I hear my boys singing about “booty.” Call me a prude but hearing them sing Bruno Mars’s jam, “Up-town you-know-what,” is also troublesome for me.

So I took a cue from a friend and decided this year on the drive to school we will hear a monthly theme song. An entertaining song with lyrics that don’t embarrass me, or them, if they start mindlessly singing them at family gatherings.

With school starting in August, I chose an oldie by Scott Krippayne called I’m Not Cool. Even if it is cheesy, I still get a little choked up when I listen. It speaks to adolescent insecurities which apparently die hard.

The tune is catchy, and I hope the message sticks. The artist laments his complexion, clothes, and car and then declares, “I’m not cool, but that’s okay, My God loves me anyway!”

There was a little eye-rolling from the boys, but we stuck with it through August.

For September the boys chose Impossible by Building 429 which champions the truth “That nothing is unreachable, when we trust the God of miracles.” I like it, but a month is going to be a challenge. I may have to adjust the schedule for a new song every week.

So I’m on the hunt for songs with solid lyrics that my boys would like.

If you have a recommendation, I’d sure be grateful if you’d share it. I’ll head straight to iTunes and add it to our playlist!

(Unless it’s something like THIS SONG. I think that song, catchy as it is, will ruin the theme song project forever! Thanks to Andee for digging up that gem.)

The post Gifts of Music and Memory appeared first on Shauna Letellier.

In the late 70s my parents bought an advanced piece of music
technology. A stereo.

This miracle of musical machinery was ensconced behind
glass doors to reiterate the fact that all the blinking knobs and dancing
decibel lights were off limits to three wide-eyed children. 

Photo Credit: Daniele Nicolucci

Half the fun of the stereo was the delicate show on the turn
table. The shiny vinyl balanced on the spindle, spun, wobbled, and finally dropped
onto the record player.

A more recent Easter song:

The post An Easter Ballad appeared first on Shauna Letellier.

Before you think I’m being self deprecating, let me tell
you, I’ve tried a heap of all those recommendations. But sometimes, they simply
don’t work for me.

The post Parental Prescription appeared first on Shauna Letellier.