Our team of 16 met up together in Nashville on Monday morning (after a late night arrival for the majority of us). And also after a crazy good breakfast at “Biscuit Love.” Cappuccino and bonuts for this sweets-girl. [Bonuts are a mix of fried biscuit dough rolled in sugar (think biscuit-donut), topped with creamy lemon mascarpone and blueberry compote…the rest of the world stands still when you eat them, trust me.]
Conference hall bustling with anticipation, and where is the elevator, and hopefully we can find seats together. They said last year there were 3,500 people, and that this year was at least double, and thank the Lord the weather held out so that rain didn’t add to the navigation pile-ups in a very large, very confusing building.
Anyway, we found a great two rows to double up in with a decent view of the stage, all things considered. The stage was centered in the room, with chairs surrounding it and the choir on the backside, the bands taking their turns on the stage alongside speakers throughout the conference.
I’ve seen Keith and Kristyn Getty in concert once before, but this was different. There was an excitement in the air that you just couldn’t explain immediately, and even now the right vocabulary words escape my fingers. When they stepped up onto the stage, it was as if emotions halted in silence for a split second, knowing this would mark a memory very great and very special, and no one wanted to miss it. The audience was hushed. They held their breaths. And then they erupted.
It was a conference on worship, and worship we did. Even in those opening moments, singing “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty” together, the stage had been set months before to prepare hearts for God’s unique working this week. Before and after each session, we were brought to the throne of Grace to either prepare for the holy food of Scripture, or to respond to what we had just feasted upon. And the songs they introduced as new releases brought tears to my eyes in almost every session. Yes, we sing in corporate worship to encourage those around us, but ultimately it’s for the Lord’s ears, and several times I forgot there was anyone else around as I poured out my heart through song to my Jesus who loves a wretch like me.
But you don’t sing for the emotion. At least not at a Getty music Sing Conference. You raise your voice to the Lord out of gratitude for all that He is, all that He’s done, all that He’s doing, and all that He’s promised to do. The tears flow because the words you’re giving voice to are rich and deep, and they hit at the core of foundational, biblical truths – truths that acknowledge the necessity of the cross because of who you are, standing sinful before God holy – truths that don’t stop at Someone else paying up what you owe and couldn’t ever ever pay – truths that bring hope because of the empty tomb and the risen Savior.
And oh, how my heart needed those truths this week. How it needed those powerful musical reminders of overflowing mercy and never-lacking grace. The longer I live, the more I see my black heart wrestling, wanting so much to please itself, yet also desperately begging God to conform it to resemble His. I tend to camp out too much on Mount Sinai’s law, judging my inescapable, leeching sin and how that grieves the Father, when instead I should be resting peaceful on Mount Calvary’s hope.
So the fact that Keith & Kristyn Getty, Matt Boswell, Matt Papa, Matt Merker, Jordan Kauflin, Bob Kauflin, Stuart Townend, and many other guest artists led us all in musical worship for three days, with songs that revive the heart and restore the soul and bring light to the eyes – well, it was pretty amazing. Powerhouse hymn writers and composers, and I’d add theologians, because the “Christian” songs on the radio rarely, if ever, have as much depth and understanding of Scripture as these songs. It’s a balm your soul craves to be fed excellence that thunders at the heart of why we’re created. More so than the newest/popular/catchy tunes on the radio or Spotify or even that might be added into the mix on Sunday mornings. But this. You will never regret feeding your soul truth. Deep, glorious, gut-wrenching truth. Both in song and in preaching.
And that leads to the other aspect of the conference: the men who followed up a time of worship through song with a time of worship through solid teaching. The top three highlights for me were Dr. John MacArthur, Alistair Begg, and Ligon Duncan. Each unique in their style and presentation, and each so passionate for their listeners to know the God of the Bible in a true way, not merely an experiential way. I can still hear MacArthur’s words echoing through my mind. “Song is in the heart before it’s ever heard aloud,” and “Go to the Psalms to fight for joy.” Then there’s Ligon’s breakdown of the various types of psalms and how they all point to God as the center, with us frail humans needing to reconcile our feelings to true worship. And Alistair Begg showing how creation tells God’s story, even in the Old Testament with limited “official” teaching on it, like in Psalm 8. Goodness gracious, I’m thankful for these men.
Another highpoint of the week was attending breakout sessions taught by various speakers. Bummer you could only choose five, but I didn’t regret any of my choices (another Thankful journal entry, because sometimes, let’s be honest, you just kinda wish you would’ve gone with something else). Hearing Andrew Peterson share his heart and parts of his own story; listening to Matt Boswell teach through Charles Spurgeon’s journey with the psalms and congregational singing; joining the four horseman of the hymn-writing apocalypse (Matt, Matt, Matt, Jordan) as they walked us through some of their recent musical brilliancies and then singing together. My insides wanted to burst so many times this week.
But my favorite was the Ryman. We picked up tickets for the early show, with seats seven rows from the front and a clear shot of the artists. Sure, it was the same ones who led our musical worship in the conference center for three days, but that concert at the Ryman was the closest place you could be to heaven on Monday night. It was a memory for me that, again, would be too difficult to describe accurately, so I won’t waste time trying to come up with clever words for it. But I’ll say this. I’ve been praying a lot lately for either Christ’s return or my time on earth to close and my time in heaven to begin, and that concert, singing along with the Gettys and others, solidified that even more. There’s less and less that attracts me to this fleeting vapor called life. I look around me and I look inside me and I see so much brokenness. So much pain and sorrow and hurt and conflict and shortcomings and sin. Yet as much as I long for eternity in perfection, “I will wait for You, I will wait for You, on Your Word I will rely…til my soul is satisfied.”
Tickets are already on sale for next year, and people, it’s un-regrettable. As in, you couldn’t even regret it if you tried. Save on a trip to Disneyland, skip eating out a little more, budget entertainment more wisely if you need to.
Your heart will be exposed. Your willpower will be broken. Your hands will be empty. But your deep, matchless, heaven-joy will be full. “Safe in His arms I’ll cling, praising my Savior King, forever more I’ll sing – Jesus is mine.”
