Stars

I've just come in from sitting in my garden at home; gazing up at the clear night sky, watching the meteor shower and losing myself in the vastness of what lies beyond this odd little blue and green ball we all live on.

The meteors were the headline act tonight as they shot across the darkness leaving their dramatic trail behind. Left-over debris, from a comet that passed by almost twenty yars ago, burning brightly in the earth's atmosphere. Cosmic drama unfolding on a backdrop of stars...

Billions and billions of stars. Some scientists even guess that there are 10x more stars in the visible universe than grains of sand on all the worlds beaches! It's a mind-boggling number and an incredible concept to think that there is that much stuff up in space.

And yet, so often, the stars go unnoticed - either lost in the blur of the light polution from our 24/7 cities and towns or just taken for granted and rarely marvelled at anymore. So why is it that when Paul wrote to a church in Philippi that he said that they "shine like stars"?

I think it's because the stars are our role models.

Whatever the weather, whoever is looking or not looking, whether they're taken for granted or being studied intently; whether day or night, whether they are upstaged by meteors or have the sky to themselves, the stars keep right on shining. And I think thats what Paul means.

In a world where fame comes and goes - we keep shining.

In a world where the economy is struggling - we keep shining.

In a world where people ignore us or take us for granted - we keep shining.

It's the time of year that thousands and thousands of people attend festivals and gatherings all over the world. I'm not saying anything negative about these festivals, I think they're great, I've been to them, I've experienced God in fresh ways there and felt blessed to be a part of them. But my prayer is this...

That the temptation to be a meteor - to feel fired up and burn brightly but briefly and fizzle out quickly - is replaced with a desire to be a star; to do what God designed you to do and to do it always. Day-in. Day-out.

You're a star. Shine.

Daddy's Boy?

Strange things happen on buses. I was on my way to Angel Tube Station, and as I sat down I noticed the smell of cigarette smoke. I then noticed that the source of the smoke was the cigarette in the hand of the woman sat on the other side of the bus to me. She was trying to be discreet but was definitely smoking.

I politely leaned over to her and informed her that it was a non-smoking bus - as all London buses are! - and recieved a not-so-polite reply. I then politely asked her to put out the cigarette; a request that was again met with an indecent comeback.

"Are you a bus conductor?" she asked
"No i'm not" I accurately answered
"Well then I don't have to do what you say. If ya that bothered tell the driver."
"You want me to inform the driver?" So I did.

I spoke to the driver at the next stop, informed him of the smoker and sat back down on a seat behind him. He announced over the tannoy that anyone smoking would have to leave the bus now. "It's not even lit mate" was yelled at the driver from the woman, who had put the cigarette out in the time it had taken me to put in my complaint.

The bus moved on.

As I sat with my back to the busload of abuse that was now coming my way from various passengers and the smoking woman I felt as though I'd made a terrible mistake. Was I being too goody-goody? Did I really need to report her to the driver? Why did I bother?

Then an assurance replaced that doubt that, actually, I had done the right thing and now I was being tormented for it. A few moments later the woman pressed the bell to get off at her stop. I noticed her come and stand behind me and she began to insult me further.

"I bet you're a daddy's boy aint ya? I know people like you, always trying to please daddy! Well i bet your father's really pleased with you! yeah, your father's really pleased with you!"

Her words struck my heart in a way she could never have dreamed and certainly never intended them to. I felt God, my Father, reassure me that he was proud of me. I had done the right thing, despite the reaction of the majority of those on the bus...

But My Father was pleased with me.

Despite the evident hatred of this woman towards me...

My Father was pleased with me.

God works in mysterious ways. He can speak through any variety of media. And I for one am glad he does.

Empty Poetry

It seems everyone goes through times when they feel like they've given out everything they've got; When they feel physically, emotionally, even spiritually drained and exhausted.
Sometimes there is an opportunity to stop and refuel and rest. Other times there isn't that luxury and there is still a long way to go, and a lot of work still to do, before a holiday or pit-stop can take over.

I found a poem earlier on that I had totally forgotten I had written, but I clearly had been going through one of those times.

The reservoir's empty

The battery is dead

My heart is running dry

and so is my head

Each day seems a struggle

the passion is gone

like a bright summer sky

that's lacking the sun

Arrogance beckons,

Bluntness abounds

My life seems in free-fall

approaching the ground

I'm desperately hoping You'll catch me

or we're gonna meet sooner than planned

although Your plans and my plans are different

So I'm leaving all mine in Your hands.

Jimmy Orr ©
15th November 2006

Mr Cellophane

Cellophane
Mister Cellophane
Shoulda been my name
Mister Cellophane
'Cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there...

I love the film Chicago. There are some brilliant jazz songs in it and one of my favourites is sung by the character Amos. He's the husband of Roxy, one of the leading characters, and he sort of just plods along through the story, faithfully standing by Roxy throughout the whole ordeal. But he's left on the sidelines a lot. He's ignored and pushed to the fringes by the main characters who continue their adventures and that leaves me feeling sorry for poor old Amos, who then launches into the song Mister Cellophane; Nobody even notices him. It's a sad part of the story.

Just recently however, I've seen this song in a totally different light.
I was leading worship at the church i'm part of in London a couple of weeks ago and the service seemed to go really well; the songs flowed well, the atmosphere was good, people were engaged with God in a big way - It was a good time in Church.
A few days later in the office at church, one of the staff members came to find me -

"Jimmy, I just want to say that Sunday was brilliant. You led really well. It was great because it was like you were...

Transparent!"

I was transparent? I was see through? I was hardly even there?!
And then it dawned on me: I had done my job right, because the duty of a worship lead is not to get recognition for singing well or playing well or picking the cool songs but to divert people's attention to Jesus. The quicker the worship leader takes the attention off of themselves and fixes in on Jesus the better. It's all too easy for ego's and self awareness to get in the way of leading worship. Standing at the front of the church with people watching you and following your every move can be dangerous if your heart and motives are skewed. But to be in that position and help to enable the church to focus on their God and dissolve out of sight is a real privilege.

I was Mister Cellophane for all the right reasons and that someone had been kind enough to let me know that was a really exciting buzz for me.

I had done my job well

Cellophane
Mister Cellophane
Shoulda been my name
Mister Cellophane
'Cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there...

Revealed

Ok, so the lyrics have been up a couple of months now and, after many comments wondering 'who is she?', I figured now is the time to reveal what they're actually about.

In actual fact, they're not about a girl at all. They're not technically about any person other than me.
I was reading in Romans 7 where Paul is explaining how he argues with the two versions of himself: the Bad Paul before he met Jesus, and the Good Paul after he met Jesus.

"I know that all God's commands are spiritual, but I'm not. Isn't this also your experience? Yes. I'm full of myself—after all, I've spent a long time in sin's prison. What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can't be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God's command is necessary.

"But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.

"It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.

"I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question?

"The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different."

Just as Paul struggled with trying not to do the things he knew were wrong, and struggling just as much to do the things he knew he should do, I find myself battling with the two versions of Jimmy.

There is the Bad, Selfish Jimmy who wants to do whatever he wants and pay no attention to anyone else's feelings. Then then is the Good Jimmy who wants to be the best he can be, serve God the best he can and try as much as possible to put others before himself and to genuinely care for the people around him.

It's not always easy. And so these lyrics try and paint a picture of that ongoing struggle.

New Lyrics

Make of these what you will... Jimmy

I know it isn't right,
But I can't seem to get you off my mind.
Every day and and every night
It's like I see you right before my eyes
And it seems I can't break free from this spell you've got me under
But I don't want to see you anymore.

O I reaching for something more
I'm breaking the silence
Believing for something pure.

I hate what I've become.
The influence you have is bittersweet.
I'm searching for the One
Whose love has told me I can be redeemed.
This dirtiness that crawls all around me when I'm with you
Will be removed and you be dead and gone.

O I reaching for something more
I'm breaking the silence
Believing for something pure.

©2008 Jimmy Orr

What a difference a year makes...

Some of you will know that I went through a very difficult and painful time around about this time last year. Well, recently I've pondering about that time and mulling over the emotional and spiritual experience trying to express some of what went on. These are fresh lyrics that have been circling in my mind for some time, brewing and stirring and waiting for the right time to be poured out into the right structure. This is 'Here in the Shadows'.

Here in the shadows surrounded by those who abuse me;
Broken and beaten and bleeding to death on the floor.
Around me stand shadows and figures of those who accuse me.
I’m looking to heaven for help and I’m crying out Lord.

I come to You,
Broken, bruised and bleeding,
Bearing the scars of a broken heart.
Your open arms are healing.

You are my hope and You are the One who defends me.
You heal my wounds and wipe every tear I shed dry.
You I can trust and You are the One who befriends me.
I know I’m safer with You, than ever before.

I come to You,
Broken, bruised and bleeding,
Bearing the scars of a broken heart.
Your open arms are healing.

And You quiet my soul,
And You sing over me,
A love song of hope,
That You’ve placed within me.


Jimmy Orr © 2008