Shhhh

What's that?

The sound of one night in a quiet house alone?

Shhhhh... savor the silence you two.

Long-term plans

Driving from Greenwood to Ft. Wayne this unseasonably warm Christmas morning was a reminder to me that with the passing of time, things must change. As creatures of habit and comfort, we become so convinced that settling into a home in which we plan on living well into retirement while raising our children or planning the rest of our lives around the security of a single career are noble, if not necessary aspirations. I don't know... perhaps not as many people live their lives in pursuit of this dream as I've convinced myself. However, the culture in much of the states seems to have imagined an idea of the American dream which expects her people to work toward a social level to classify those whom have "made it" and those whom have not. There exists this notion of career, income, school district, etc., etc as identity.

I confess that as hard as I kick against the corporate mindset of modern man, I have often found myself temporarily crippled by these intimidating cultural ideals. After all, I spent six years at a university earning a less than practical degree and have worked almost as many jobs in the six years since graduating. This resume could be quite discouraging for someone recognizing their own worth or contribution to life on this planet reaching only as far as their tenure. The longest of these employments (and the closest I've come to a "career" I suppose) was my three and a half years as youth ministry equipper at center grove presbyterian church. It's kind of humorous since my wife was recently quoting for me from a book she's been reading that the average American will have 14-15 jobs in their lifetime and those jobs will last an average of three and a half years... So there it is, I'm the average American. I've tried so hard my entire life to be anything but average!

Then I began reading Donald Miller's road memoir, Through Painted Deserts. In the introduction, Miller writes about the changing of the seasons, leaving home, and how that which doesn't change, dies. He explains that this is God's way... growth, dying to be reborn and all. Just as the earth and all within it experience seasons and change, so do we experience seasons in life. Change, coincidentally, is not only inevitable, but necessary. Change is growth, growth is life, life is knowing God and learning to love. It reminds me of how we're all becoming new, like when the apostle Paul talks about putting off the old man and putting on the new man and becoming transformed into the likeness of Christ. God alone has no need to change Himself because He was, is and is to come. Yet isn't it interesting that God in perfect nature would wrap himself in human skin, not to evolve or grow Himself, but to make Himself known to us... to come alongside us in our own evolution, showing us the way and changing our very status before his presence. The Creator is the only sustenance for all which continues to change. To evolve is to be in tune with our Creator.

I'm encouraged by this fact that job, home and relationships alone do not alone define us as creatures or decide the worth of our existence. Together, however, all of these factors make their mark on our lives bringing shape and pulling character from the core of our being to reflect the perfection of the Creator in the imperfection of man.

This man is a lover, poet, sinner, husband, artist, son, brother, performer, uncle, shepherd, student, friend, barista, custodian, reader, writer, listener, explorer, observer, in all these a worshiper of Christ. This is my "long-term plan".

At least the one which I hope to follow.

In praise of solid people

"Then do I envy solid folk
Who sit of evenings by the fire
After their work and doze and smoke,
And are not fretted by desire."

-C.S. Lewis

Xmastimes

While only about a week away, it sure doesn't feel like Christmas. It's like seventy degrees outside, the sun is shining, we don't even have a tree in our house save the tiny one perched atop my desk. It's only slightly larger than the our other plant... Charlie Brown would be proud I'm sure. I'm just now fixin' to meet up with mi amigo Kyle at the bux for some coffee, tea, perhaps some conversation. I suppose we could just stare at one another awkwardly while sipping our tasty beverages, but I'm not sure how comfortable that would make anyone feel. As of late, I have been letting the tape run on the old four track to see what it may capture. I recorded this little rendition of 'o come, o come emmanuel' which I like to play late at night for Miranda while pretending that there is snow on the ground and figgy pudding in the hopper.

Don't forget to come listen to me and some friends play some songs at The Strange Brew Coffeehouse on January 5th, 2007. Mmmmm... tasty! Hop over to this site for more information and such.

When good intentions cause nightmares...

Country folk rockin' the stained glass rafters.

On the evening of November 4th, I gathered with some friends to share some songs with an intimate audience at southminster presbyterian church. The past eight months or so have been occupied with many hours writing and recording for a collection of songs titled Kyrie Eleison which was released to the public on the night of this particular show. There are fewer things I enjoy than sharing songs with others, but that is only a fraction of what made this night both memorable and nothing short of amazing. The album, Kyrie Eleison begins and ends with songs titled, "Prologue" and "Epilogue" respectively. These bookends to the album contain lyrics which are drawn directly out of the deep emotional well which my wife and I have lived in since the unfolding of circumstances which led to our leaving the church where we were deeply involved in ministry for three and a half years. I thought it only fitting that this cd release take place in a church house... better yet, the one in which I spent much of my childhood. I guess it was sort of a homecoming.

I was joined on stage by three young men who were in the youth ministry where we once served. These three guys--Ryan Helvie, Andrew Furrow and John Shufflebarger--have been very dear to my heart since my first days as a youth pastor. We have spent hours talking about deep spiritual issues, laughing at each other and playing obnoxiously loud music in the mustard room to my wife's chagrin. I love these guys. I admire them as followers of Jesus, as musicians, as compassionate human beings. They speak honestly and without pretense. I have seen these young men perform acts of service and love toward others which wouldn't blossom beyond a nice thought in the minds of lesser folks. It was an honor and a blessing to have them add their own musical

signatures to these songs. We were also joined by my cousin Jason who I have known all of my thirty years on this earth. He and his wife, along with their four kids, have been living with Miranda and I the past two months and it was nice to perform a couple of duets with him and have him a part of this evening. It was a different yet refreshing context from what we've been used to recently. He always brings these subtle ideas to my songs which add such a rich texture to the sonic landscape. I also asked my cousin Ben to film the show and my uncle Conrad to run sound. They both obliged and my father-in-law even photographed the show. It was a thrilling experience for me to have them all contribute their talents to the evening.

What truly made this night a healing experience were the audience. Those who showed up for the evening of song and story made it what it was. Folks from our previous church home, kids from our youth ministries, friends through my wife's work, family, friends from Evansville, friends from Broad Ripple, people I was completely surprised to see. After the show, I was utterly taken back by the stories people shared about how they were blessed by these songs. Our friend JayJay whom Miranda teaches with shared with me that the song "Used to be so bored" described exactly what she and her husband went through during the uncertain times surrounding their second child's birth. Even as I paid tribute to the great Cat Stevens and Pete Towshend, others reveled in their compositions. I strummed my grandfather's ukulele to Townshend's "Blue, Red and Grey" and my grandmother was there in the audience just beaming. It was fantastic. After the show, folks hung around to meet and talk for hours while enjoying Spanish pastries and fresh Starbucks coffee.

There will be other shows in the near future, but this one will certainly live on as the greatest... for me at least, because this night of song was not about performance or about joel rockey. This night was about the people who have made my life so very special.

Oh yeah, by the way...

been waiting a long time for this.