Over the last three years I’ve experienced so much paradox in my life: Boundless joy mixed with deep loss. Never the one without the other. It’s been a thrill to go on adventures with my wife, raise my kids, and serve the church. But mixed up in all of that has been some really hard stuff. Heartbreaking stuff. Friends move away; new friendships are built. People I care about fight sickness and win; others fight the same sickness and lose. Couples we know get married; other couples separate. It’s been a season of extremes: some of the greatest moments mixed with some of the worst. And it’s left me wondering, How do we reconcile the joy of this life with the tragedy?  As I’ve walked through this season, a significant theme has emerged, and I share it often with people everywhere I go:  Life is a mixture of pain and promise.  The pain of now: struggle, disease, poverty, war, and death. And the promise of what’s to come: God’s kingdom is advancing—and a day is coming when there will be no more war, no more suffering, no more hunger, and no more death. But right now we live in the middle: holding pain in one hand and promise in the other.  As I’ve wrestled with this theme of pain and promise, it has led me back to my roots. I grew up in a very small town in rural Oklahoma. My parents ran a bar—a country dance hall—on the edge of town, and as a kid, I learned to sing, play the guitar, and front a band on the smoky little stage of my parents’ bar. As I’ve pursued God in this current era of my life, it seemed appropriate to revisit the sounds of my homeland. The music that you hold in your hands is the truest version of “me”—both musically and in heart—that I’ve been able to capture up to this point. I hope it helps give voice to your current journey.