Greetings from Idaho

This writing comes to you from Hope, Idaho, where my family and I will be staying the week. Among the 18 members of my family, we’re staying in two spacious three bedroom condos right alongside the lake, and the view from our balcony is incredible. I’ll try to figure out how to edit in a picture of our space in the future.

Saturday afternoon we had the memorial service for my grandmother. A memorial service is a really beautiful thing, because the people who come to these services come because they were really touched by the life of that person, and usually have some incredible insight into their life and they way their life has impacted the family and friends. You learn about what that person truly means to you, and the way that they impacted your life. But when you hear other people say the same thing, you realize the legacy this person left behind. My grandmother taught all 18 of us how to love, how to cherish people, and how to live life valuing the good and not the material.

I missed all of you from New Song this last weekend. I’ll be back on Wednesday. Next week we’ll have Haley Montgomery playing at Seven24, so I get a few weekends off. I’ll see all of you New Songers next weekend…

Transition

I’m moving out of my apartment today. The only thing that really reminds you of moving into an apartment is moving out of one, so today I was reminded of the day when I moved my stuff in here, of how excited I was, how much laid before me. I could never have predicted the events of the last six months.

I’m going straight from moving out of my apartment to the airport, to join my family up north. We’re going to honor the memory of my grandmother, Edna Curtis, who passed away a couple of months ago. We’ll spend something like five days together as a family, and then I’ll fly back, leaving the rest of my family up there for three more days or so, and have one more week of school before finals.

I cannot express my feelings regarding the oncoming summer. There seems to be so much happening in people’s lives around me, so much promise and hope rising in the cumulation of this spring season. Hope in my own life, too, and I am eager to take part.

When I come back next week, I won’t have an apartment.

When I come back next week, it will be June. A new month.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.” 2 Corinthians 5:17

I’ve wanted to believe for a long time that if I just worked hard enough, if I put enough spirit and effort into something, if I prayed and asked God’s blessing, and I were sensitive to whatsoever direction God might have for me, then anything would be possible. I think Jesus did too.

“Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him.” Mark 11:23

I pray that if you are reading this, that you may take up the unlimited potential of new life in Christ, and the faith that can move the unmoveable.

Have faith; I too dream.

Mexico Missions Trip

I just got back from our college/high school missions trip. After four days of working on a house together, everyone on our team is covered in several layers of dirt, grime, and sweat, only abated by the occasional bucket shower. To show for it, we have a 98% completed two room house in a small lot in Mexico.

I’ve also had the pleasure of working with one of the greatest Canadians I’ve ever met. Our representative from Amor Ministries, Bruce, was an absolute joy to work with. His constant heckling of us all, but especially the high schoolers, his great work ethic, and his easygoing manner made working on the house a joy. 

I think that we would normally surmise that the highlight for the trip would be handing the keys over to the new owner, or seeing the house fully completed, or perhaps taking a warm shower after four days of sweating in the Mexican heat.

But when I look back, my highlights are more related to the people, to our community, more related to our journey, and our ascent. The way we worked together. The way we cared for one another, especially when one of our own was sick. The way that we saw to one another’s needs. The way we’d get ticked at each other, but then quickly brush it off. So it wasn’t that handing over keys, or seeing the house finished wasn’t great, but the greatest thrill for me, is seeing that house, and seeing a physical manifestation of our community at work.

I’m eager to see what else our community can do when we band together towards higher purposes.

Words (or lack thereof)

Speaking is a powerful ability. In particular, speaking well, in a democratic society, is a valuable gift. Everyday we use words to communicate, persuade, connect with others. Being able to speak binds us together, or tears us apart. One who is able to speak well can reveal who they are inside, or pretend to be someone they aren’t.

I just finished a book called “The Way of the Heart” by Henri Nouwen. This modest composition of literature reveals the wisdom of the desert fathers, the original monks. Nouwen demonstrates the principles of the lifestyle that they lead, and shows us what we can learn from it in return. He suggests that there is a better way through the maelstrom of daily life, particularly in the world of christian ministry, through a lifestyle made more complete with a new definition of Silence, Solitude, and Prayer.

I had a hard time with what this book was attempting to grasp, as it suggests a lifestyle filled with less, so to speak. The Desert Fathers were extremely disciplined in the way that they sought silence, solitude, and prayer, devoting themselves fully to encountering God. The result of their discipline is clear from anecdotes of many travelers interacting with these desert fathers. Something changed within these people from their deep experiences in silence.

So in a society where words are highly valued, we seem to sometimes be seeking to say and hear as much as possible. We crave input, we’re ravenous in our hunger for it, and now in this day and age more than ever. We’re surrounded by walls of sound, and it is the subtle things, the beautiful things, that get drowned out in all the harsh whitewater noise.

I want to swim to the surface, and breath in fresh air. I want to be hungry for that sort of experience.

And as I’m writing an entire album worth of lyrics, lyrics I hope have profound meaning for people who will soon listen to our work, I want to rediscover the power of words.

The Concept

I spent most of last week by myself. My roommate was out of town, so I spent most of monday, all of tuesday, wednesday, thursday, and part of friday by myself.

Sometimes I have problems with solitude.

I was fiddling around with some music, some lyrics, feeling mostly very frustrated. I’d been feeling like I had a permanent case of writers block. Like I was choking on these words that just needed to get out.

I decided to take a shower. White noise helps me think. Driving in the car with no radio, no music, is like a fresh breeze through my mind. The sound of running water has such an effect on me. There is so much to think about nowadays, and so little time to be thinking. If you feel the same way, you should be doing whatever you can to clear the clutter. There might be something deep underneath all the mess that really needs to be resolved. There’s not a single person on this earth who doesn’t have some true, honest, beautiful words they’re hinging on, deep underneath. It just doesn’t ever get out much. This was one such situation for me.

When I got out of the shower, I immediately seized notebook and pen.

We’re so limited in our understanding of God. Everything we know about Him rests mostly upon the bible, a collection of the history of God’s people and their interactions with Him. Everything we know might probably amounts to very little in the big picture. We’re like a blind one using our hands, touching an elephant. We can’t conceive of that much majesty.

But most everything on earth reflects Him.

God is like a storm. A storm is caused by an area of high pressure coming into contact with an area of low pressure. Hysteria ensues. A storm can encompass everything from ice and hail to fire. We usually think of storms somewhere in between. Thunder and lightning and rain. But what a storm is high above our heads, is balance taking place. A tremendous imbalance in the atmosphere is what causes a storm to take place.A storm is the world trying to balance the difference.

Storms are messy. Storms have teeth and claws and can kill people. People have lost homes, landscapes have been changed, and lives forever changed by storms. Even when there is the lightest rain in Oceanside, or a windy day, it throws debris everywhere. In Oceanside, we’re not at all prepared for such events.

Yet storms are beautiful. Nothing on earth compares to the splendor of a horizon split by lightning, clouds bursting with inner light, thunder rolling across hilltops as you count the seconds to determine the distance.

The sound of rain falling soothes me, allures me. When it rains in the evening, I’ll open the window and lie down, and the rain is my lullaby. Especially in Oceanside, where such a thing is so rare, it really brings out the child in everyone when we run through the rain, or just stand outside and stare, open mouthed and wide eyed into the heavens.God is like a storm.