ChristianDance

Success fades. Approval fades. What actually lasts? Picture yourself walking home. A normal walk home, nothing dramatic. Just sidewalks, tomorrow’s to-do list, and thinking about what you own and the career/life you have. That’s where “Chasing Nothing” by Louis Loock starts. He continues to reflect: “Emptiness surrounds me, for no reason that I see, // People walkin’ past, time goes by so fast.”   It’s fascinating to experience how everyday moments like these trigger deeper reflections. For Louis, these reflections led to a change, not because he found more stuff or more approval, but because he found less of himself and more of God. “Then You came into my life, You opened up my eyes,” he writes. “I was chasing nothing, I was running mad.” That choice of words matters. He wasn’t chasing something that turned out disappointing — he was chasing something that turned out to be empty. An illusion. A finish line that keeps moving further away. Does this sound familiar?  Scripture...

You cannot earn what Jesus already gave. Sin has a way of slowly tightening its grip. Connor Edwards captures that feeling in the opening lines of his song, “It’s Giving Jesus”: “Started from the bottom, strangled by my sin, choking on the promise, helpless to defend.” He wrote the song to help listeners recognize something we often tend to forget — everything that comes from following Jesus is a gift, not a wage. Nobody can earn their way out of sin’s chokehold. Then, as the lyrics say, “You entered stage right, the cue to make it end.” No striving required. No performance review. Just rescue. I love this part of the lyrics: “It’s giving hope in grief // I can’t explain it // It’s giving rescue from myself, from me // The gift that gives me strength // It’s giving Jesus.” His grace doesn’t ask you to clean yourself up first. Read what Paul says about this in Ephesians 2:8–9: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not ...

Can mountains make you want to worship? Sarah Emerson wrote “Great Lord” while on a trip up in Leavenworth, Washington, surrounded by beautiful mountains. She was craving a song that she could shout from the rooftops about how great God is! That’s where this song was born — not in a studio, but looking up to something that is too big to ignore. The lyrics open with an acknowledgement: “Great is the name of the Lord, powerful is His hand.” No qualifiers. No hedging. Just stating a fact. Then the song widens its lens. “Let every mountain, every valley, speak of all Your majesty.” Suddenly it’s not just Sarah praising His majesty — it’s all of creation praising Him, “You are Great, Lord.” Reflect for a moment on your own life. Where do you feel small? Where do circumstances seem too tangled to fix? The song addresses that tension, “Nothing’s impossible, You’re making all things new… Is there anything You can’t do?” In Isaiah 55:12 we read, “the mountains and the hills before you shall b...

Could “wasting time” be the greatest worship? Austin J. Smith wrote “Time in Your Presence” around a simple but countercultural idea: “love doesn’t calculate” . We live in a world that is obsessed with output — checklists, side-hustles, proving what we are worth through who we're seen with and what we accomplish. So what happens when you bring that same mindset into your relationship with God? Austin sums up the answer in a single, defiant line: “I’ll waste my time in Your presence.” Not because sitting with God earns us anything. “Earning” isn’t required by God.  The lyrics elaborate on that tension. “The world just might think I’m foolish,” Austin sings, “to waste my whole life on you.” ‘Foolish’ by whose measure and which definition? Our culture rewards busyness and prestige, but it’s not capable of measuring the benefit of a quiet moment with your Creator. Austin calls God his “morning star” and “golden hour”  — the beautiful moments of the day that don’t need justification...

Who were you before Jesus found you?  Drew Parker spent a decade chasing a country music dream. He got the record deal, the Opry stage, the number 1 songs written for other artists. Then Jesus interrupted the plan. Drew realized that he’d spent years asking God to bless his ambitions instead of surrendering to God’s. So he decided to walk away from something that was working, not something that was failing. Walking away like this requires a special kind of courage.  In the song “Blame Jesus”, Drew Parker and Steven Curtis Chapman share Drew’s story in plain terms. The song speaks about burning bridges, chasing a “lost highway,” being “a prodigal, a rebel on a losing streak.” Sound familiar? Most of us may have seen a comparable variation of that story in our lives. When God is working in our lives, things change! Drew sings about that change: “these days if you look at me, and what you see ain’t what you used to see.” He doesn’t credit it to willpower or self-improvement. H...

What happens when your mind becomes the battlefield? Night & valleys bring their own kind of noise. Fear whispers, doubt shouts, and a hundred voices compete for space in your head. That noise also manages to spread its way into other parts of our lives. That struggle is the theme of Gresha Schuilling's song “Be Strong in the Lord.” The lyrics describe a battle that starts long before our circumstances change: “The battle first was won within // Before the light broke through.” Real victory begins in the mind, not in the moment things finally look better. The song names a shift that most of us are familiar with. While our mind is often capable of balancing external data and placing it in a healthier context, our own thoughts seem to easily bypass that balancing mechanism. Our thoughts grow loud, our fears grow louder, and we need something powerful to interrupt that cycle. We ask God to guide us and bless us with truth. “Your Word grew stronger than our thoughts // As truth to...

Can honest sorrow and steady faith coexist?  Jordan West and Red Letter Society released “Psalm 13 (So Good)” as part of their Psalms Project, a project aimed at working through all 150 psalms, one song at a time. Psalm 13 doesn’t waste words. It opens with a question David asks four times: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” That’s not a form of polite prayer language. In this moment, David is a man in pain, staring at silence, wondering if God even remembers his name.  The song holds that tension. “How long will you hide?” the lyrics ask, and then, “sorrow in my eyes.” No performance. No pretending. Just raw honesty directed straight to heaven through prayer. Have you ever prayed like that? Most of us will have felt something similar at certain points in our lives, even if we never shared that with others… or tried to hide it from God… There’s a turning point in this psalm. David moves from questioning to trusting: “But I have trusted in your steadfast love; m...