ChristianDance

What are you holding onto that keeps on slipping?  Some songs come from a melody. “Nothing Left But Jesus” by Gospel Protocol came from the loss of an artist name that was designed to resemble his own, followed by a spinal fracture, a broken rib, and a bank account running dry. The artist behind Gospel Protocol shares: “What felt like theft became the beginning of a deeper confrontation with God. Christ used that loss to expose where I had placed my identity, draw me into repentance, and show me that He was more valuable than anything I was trying to recover or protect.” With all of his physical issues, no income, and no stability, there was no way for him to perform his way out of the situation or pretend that he was even partially in control. He couldn’t fix it, but could still seek God. And somewhere in that stillness, prayers became songs: “Every wall I trusted slowly // Showed the cracks I’d never known.”   Here’s the strange mercy in that line. What looks like collapse i...

Waiting on God isn’t wasted time.  Cindy Clark sat with a handful of piano bars for months. No lyrics came. No verse followed. She played that same little melody over and over, loving the vibe, and waiting for something to happen that she couldn’t rush. Until one day, desperate and praying, she heard that inner whisper: “go and sing Psalm 130.” Within ten minutes, “Out Of The Depths (Psalm 130)” poured out. “Out of the depths I cry out to you Lord, Lord hear my voice.”   Have you ever waited on something that you couldn’t force into existence? Waiting feels passive, but it isn’t. It takes real strength and character to keep showing up empty-handed, trusting God that the missing piece will come.  Psalm 130 describes that tension. The psalmist writes, “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I put my hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning” (Psalm 130:5–6, ESV). A watchman doesn’t guess when it will be dawn. He knows it’s comin...

Real feeling returns when love finally breaks through.  Some walls don’t come down through force, but come down through presence. That’s the key message behind Gresha Schuilling’s song “Heart of Flesh.” The song is a picture of someone who built distance as protection, only to discover that this “safe” distance was actually a prison. “Resistance held me firmly, unaffected, unmoved.” Does this sound familiar? Maybe you’re also keeping people at arm’s length. Maybe His Love knocked on your door, and you found reasons not to answer.  Here’s what makes this song different from a simple call to “try harder” or just “open up.” The change that this song describes isn’t self-generated. Nobody can talk themselves into softness. Gresha writes about a moment of stillness where running stopped working: “Then You met me in the stillness, where I would not run.” That’s a special moment, one you can’t create on your own. That’s surrender meeting mercy.  This mirrors exactly what God p...

What actually washes your sin away for good? Robert Lowry wrote this hymn in 1876, and nearly 150 years later, it still stops people mid-sentence. Jonathan Abel strips “Nothing But The Blood” down to just piano, guitar, and his own voice, and he also made it the title track of his new EP. There’s nowhere to hide in an arrangement that bare. Just honest music and a question that hits you right from the start: “What can wash away my sin?” Not some technique. Not a resolution. Not even years of trying harder. The answer is simple, and the challenge is in accepting the answer… “Nothing but the blood of Jesus” can wash away my sin.  Think about that for a second. How many things have you tried to use to feel clean again? Apologies, self-improvement, sheer willpower. Whatever we try, none of it reaches those parts of us that actually need washing. Scripture names the one thing that does. 1 John 1:7 puts it this way: “The blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.” Not “manages”...

Your focus decides your finish line.  Motion isn’t the same as direction. You can move all day and still go nowhere, chasing signal after signal, letting the crowd set your direction and pace. That’s where “Eyes Fixed On Jesus” by Whispering HOPE starts out: “There was motion without meaning, I was moving with the crowd.” Every path looked promising, but none of them led anywhere meaningful.  Here’s the change… “I saw the One before me, standing firm beyond it all.” The noise doesn’t disappear, but it stops mattering. “Everything else grows dim,” the chorus declares, “what once pulled me in a thousand ways has no hold on me in Him.” That’s not denial; the noise is still there, but when we redirect our attention to Him, we’ll find His finish line.  Read Hebrews 12:2 about this: “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”...