Most of me wants to just hit the sack since I'm in desparate need of sleep, but I really want to at least jot a few things down for those of you who were praying and asking how my first day went.
Thank you for praying! Though I only got 7 hours sleep total over the previous 2 nights, I was remarkably not deathly tired throughout the day. I was glad, though, that I already knew about confined space entry and ISO-9001, 'cause I definitely wasn't too sharp during those videos :-)
This week isn't my job yet. I get 3 half-days with Jake the HR guy, going over a thumb-thick stack of papers and forms and several videos, and then I spend the rest of the week taking half days with each of 7 different areas (like Hot End, Cold End, Lab, etc.), learning stuff and meeting people. Next week is when I'll be turned over to Earl, my direct manager, and the real job-specific training and learning will start. Rumor has it I'll be trained to drive the massive front-end loader out back :-)
I went through the day with another guy, also named John, who just got hired into the maintenance department. He was an amiable and pleasant guy, and I was grateful many times to be going through everything with him. We spent basically the whole day in a small conference room sitting around a table going over forms or watching videos or talking with Jake. We went to the update meeting at 9 o'clock, we took a long break for lunch with several folks from the plant, and we walked around on a mini tour in the afternoon, but otherwise we were workin' away on the orientation/training checklist.
I think I'll save a well-crafted and entertaining picture of the plant for another day. If you want to know what this day was like for me, just picture me sitting in a comfortable office chair in a nice conference room with great big windows letting in the sunshiny world.. sitting back or leaning forward, listening, signing forms, checking off training items, and occasionally laughing with the guys. Not a bad day by any means, but also not anything like what my real work will be.
Also, just to sorta throw this out there, God is amazing. I've been pretty "washed up" at various times over the past few days as great change loomed before me and I looked back at what would never be the same again. I always have a hard time with change, even when it's from a good thing to a good thing. But somehow, somehow God met me at the point of nostalgia and terrible sadness over the season that is now past. I don't even know exactly how, but I went from being broken up about about what was over to being broken up about Jesus. It occured as I read John 14 - 21, and I think that it's there, in the Word, that we meet Jesus Himself and are comforted and engaged and cheered in Him, and not just His blessings.
No way can that paragraph mean to you anything close to what it meant to me, but that's ok :-) It's good stuff.
I will get 7 hours of sleep tonight. Not ~too~ bad.. *doubtful grimace*
--Clear Ambassador
Monday, April 30, 2007
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Post 150!
If you read nothing else of this semi-indulgent yet should-be-interesting post, read this paragraph and give me some feedback:
So, last night I was informed by a friend that the pictures on my music website were... notsomuch cool. Here's my site. What do you think? I think they're funny; but I want to find out if this is one of those things where I would do better to follow what others tell me and just quietly wish inside that the world was different.
Which brings up something, at least for your punctuationally-observant folks out there: I've come to a personal and highly effective set of punctuation guidelines for my journaling which is far broader and freer than the regular rules. I try to write down my thoughts as exactly like they sound in my head as possible. This has led me to adopt ".. " as a way to indicate a pause. Not a dead stop like a period, certainly not a fluid comma, but also not the implied linkage/continuance of an ellipsis (...). Just, a pause. It's very helpful for conveying the effect that pauses can have in verbal communication. Thoughts can be set next to each other without necessarily having to be linked or separated explicitly. I've also, as demonstrated above, adoped a semicolon as basically an intermediate between a comma and a period. Sometimes I need to make sure that I pause long enough at a certain point - longer than a comma, but not a rolling pause like " -". For that I keep ending up at a semicolon, even though it's probably not the proper (and oh-so elusive) use of that mark that so unjustly occupies such a prominent position on the keyboard. I also use " - " to indicate a pause with flow. Shorter than "..." but not the specific--set this phrase aside--meaning of a dash ("--"). I love using punctuation freely! Like, they're not regimented marks whose use and interpretation is set in stone, they're tools.. a set of marks I can use in any combination I want to achieve the effect I want. . . . some spaces, some dots.. dots together, dots separated . . . it's like a musical score that lays down the thought and cadence of my mind. And don't worry, firebrand-bearing English language mob; I'm not saying this should be adopted for everyone and all the rules thrown out in a hellacious punctuation free-for-all. That's MySpace and Facebook :-/ It's just.. fun for me to use, and gratifying.
Tonight we had a Fuse scavenger hunt, which was fun. I was behind the scenes, watching everybody go out and come back with crazy stories and flushed faces. I am old! Nate and Sarah totally made this night happen - I did almost nothing. I could blame it on youth camp stuff, but that's cheap and inaccurate. Basically, things have been semi-crazy, so it was very nice and kind of them to pick up the slack and free me up.
Yesterday I worked on youth camp stuff all day in Mr. Pierson's office and then hit Quaker Steak and the Top of Pittsburgh with Mike, Shannon and Kayte - the Fantabulousish Foursome. It was good times, and we even got both clear skies and cool clouds while overlooking the city from my otherworldly spot. Ahh, to lay flat on my back and let the uniform motion of the clouds spread from periphery to periphery sink into my consciousness. Across the sky they crawl, lit pinkish orange from below and wetted silver from the moon behind. Uniform they crawl - miles and miles of clouds all marching at the same step, keeping the same orientation as they corporately slide over my head. The city gleams on the close horizon, and lights stretch out like arms over the dark shrubby face of the ground. Let your eyes relax as wide as they can see - let the periphery sink in to its full extent - and still all you will see is the pink of the sky and the black of a flat horizon. Raise your head, and you will see nothing but clouds stretching over you like an open ceiling. Turn your head. Go ahead and turn it! You won't find a hill looking down on you! You'll see more sky and more earth stretching out below you. Relax your shoulders.. let them widen again. There's space around you and a world that's bigger than you out there. For a moment, we're on Pittsburgh, not in Pittsburgh.
This must be a little bit what seeing God is like.
--Clear Ambassador
So, last night I was informed by a friend that the pictures on my music website were... notsomuch cool. Here's my site. What do you think? I think they're funny; but I want to find out if this is one of those things where I would do better to follow what others tell me and just quietly wish inside that the world was different.
Which brings up something, at least for your punctuationally-observant folks out there: I've come to a personal and highly effective set of punctuation guidelines for my journaling which is far broader and freer than the regular rules. I try to write down my thoughts as exactly like they sound in my head as possible. This has led me to adopt ".. " as a way to indicate a pause. Not a dead stop like a period, certainly not a fluid comma, but also not the implied linkage/continuance of an ellipsis (...). Just, a pause. It's very helpful for conveying the effect that pauses can have in verbal communication. Thoughts can be set next to each other without necessarily having to be linked or separated explicitly. I've also, as demonstrated above, adoped a semicolon as basically an intermediate between a comma and a period. Sometimes I need to make sure that I pause long enough at a certain point - longer than a comma, but not a rolling pause like " -". For that I keep ending up at a semicolon, even though it's probably not the proper (and oh-so elusive) use of that mark that so unjustly occupies such a prominent position on the keyboard. I also use " - " to indicate a pause with flow. Shorter than "..." but not the specific--set this phrase aside--meaning of a dash ("--"). I love using punctuation freely! Like, they're not regimented marks whose use and interpretation is set in stone, they're tools.. a set of marks I can use in any combination I want to achieve the effect I want. . . . some spaces, some dots.. dots together, dots separated . . . it's like a musical score that lays down the thought and cadence of my mind. And don't worry, firebrand-bearing English language mob; I'm not saying this should be adopted for everyone and all the rules thrown out in a hellacious punctuation free-for-all. That's MySpace and Facebook :-/ It's just.. fun for me to use, and gratifying.
Tonight we had a Fuse scavenger hunt, which was fun. I was behind the scenes, watching everybody go out and come back with crazy stories and flushed faces. I am old! Nate and Sarah totally made this night happen - I did almost nothing. I could blame it on youth camp stuff, but that's cheap and inaccurate. Basically, things have been semi-crazy, so it was very nice and kind of them to pick up the slack and free me up.
Yesterday I worked on youth camp stuff all day in Mr. Pierson's office and then hit Quaker Steak and the Top of Pittsburgh with Mike, Shannon and Kayte - the Fantabulousish Foursome. It was good times, and we even got both clear skies and cool clouds while overlooking the city from my otherworldly spot. Ahh, to lay flat on my back and let the uniform motion of the clouds spread from periphery to periphery sink into my consciousness. Across the sky they crawl, lit pinkish orange from below and wetted silver from the moon behind. Uniform they crawl - miles and miles of clouds all marching at the same step, keeping the same orientation as they corporately slide over my head. The city gleams on the close horizon, and lights stretch out like arms over the dark shrubby face of the ground. Let your eyes relax as wide as they can see - let the periphery sink in to its full extent - and still all you will see is the pink of the sky and the black of a flat horizon. Raise your head, and you will see nothing but clouds stretching over you like an open ceiling. Turn your head. Go ahead and turn it! You won't find a hill looking down on you! You'll see more sky and more earth stretching out below you. Relax your shoulders.. let them widen again. There's space around you and a world that's bigger than you out there. For a moment, we're on Pittsburgh, not in Pittsburgh.
This must be a little bit what seeing God is like.
--Clear Ambassador
Monday, April 23, 2007
s u n d a y
Sunday was,
- Wearing a T-shirt on worship team, but it was legal 'cause I had a suit jacket on too!
- Joel praying for Mr. P before the sermon
- Good sermon with some phrases that were sticky in my head
- Talking to Carl & others at lunch. Not being a socially selfish introvert.
- Basketball after church, baby!
- Baking in the sun and remembering why I was never too sad about the cooler weather
- Having a sour attitude about being a loser with no hands and no shot
- Being mature enough that Shannon said she didn't even notice. Yay for being older!
- PGP with Shannon Quizzle and Money Man
- Bumming deer burgers off the Piersons for dinner
- Popping my ankle out playing wiffle ball
- Ice torture!
- Talking with Erin about her headaches
- Grillin', chillin', maxin' and relaxin' out back in the perfect weather
- E B C#m A about 79 times while we talked
- Stick shift with a sprained ankle = change gears as little as possible
- Broom =/= good crutch
The Piersons are cool!
This post was styled in honor of Mike Q.
--Clear Ambassador
- Wearing a T-shirt on worship team, but it was legal 'cause I had a suit jacket on too!
- Joel praying for Mr. P before the sermon
- Good sermon with some phrases that were sticky in my head
- Talking to Carl & others at lunch. Not being a socially selfish introvert.
- Basketball after church, baby!
- Baking in the sun and remembering why I was never too sad about the cooler weather
- Having a sour attitude about being a loser with no hands and no shot
- Being mature enough that Shannon said she didn't even notice. Yay for being older!
- PGP with Shannon Quizzle and Money Man
- Bumming deer burgers off the Piersons for dinner
- Popping my ankle out playing wiffle ball
- Ice torture!
- Talking with Erin about her headaches
- Grillin', chillin', maxin' and relaxin' out back in the perfect weather
- E B C#m A about 79 times while we talked
- Stick shift with a sprained ankle = change gears as little as possible
- Broom =/= good crutch
The Piersons are cool!
This post was styled in honor of Mike Q.
--Clear Ambassador
Monday, April 16, 2007
Ununemployed
It's so pervasive to me that I haven't thought till now to document it in my blog:
I HAVE A JOB!
Yes, God has again pretty much dropped a life decision right in my lap. This time I was really prepared to roll up my sleeves and slog through a long and time-consuming job search. I didn't interview senior year, and I really didn't do much for two months after graduating, but then I started to do the things that good job hunters do: go to Career Services, work on my resume, sign up with Pitt's job hunting online service, and go to a job fair. Nothing was really clicking though, and I kept feeling like I was butting my head against a wall. Then one day not too far in I was looking over employees who had interviews scheduled at Pitt, and there was this company called Guardian Industries that was located in Jefferson Hills.
I did a double take.
Jefferson Hills?
That's where the Harveys live!
That's . . . really close!
Indeed, it was true. A classic starting chemical engineer job right down Rte. 51... 20 minutes from home and totally opposite downtown traffic! The responsibilities sounded intriguing (learn, troubleshoot and improve the glass-making process), and the interviews were in only a few days!
I signed up and sent some emails, and they ended up cancelling the Pitt interviews, but I got a phone interview a few days later. I remember studying up on the company like crazy when I found out, and basically being pretty worked-up about the call. It was my first real job interview ever, and all the mystique and foreboding and craziness I'd ever heard about seemed looming on the other side of that cell phone ring. But it came, I talked reasonably well, and most importantly, I didn't bomb :-) I asked some good questions at the end, and I guess they liked me, 'cause a few days later they called back and invited me for a plant tour and a series of in-person interviews.
That was on a Friday, from 9am to about 12:30. I got a long plant tour and then interviewed with four people, all the way up to the plant manager. All the interviews went very well - almost surprisingly easy and natural. The plant was pretty interesting - way way smaller than NOVA's huge spread-out multi-area site. It's one long warehouse-type building with silos and a furnace at one end and offices and glass plates at the other. Spanning the length is a long bed of liquid tin on which the glass floats, gets shaped, cools, and then is scored and broken into squares. It's a pretty nifty process, and it cranks out about 350 million tons of glass a year, running 24/7/52. Guardian itself is a 19,000-employee privately-owned company, 3rd or 4th worldwide in glass manufacturing and growing markedly for the past 20 years.
I guess they continued to like me 'cause Jake the HR guy called me back a few days later and said there had been a lot of positive comments after my visit and they wanted me back for a more in-depth plant tour and some more interviews. That was the day that I felt like the job was mine - it seemed more like my first day of work than an "interview." I talked more with Earl, who'll be my direct manager, and I hung around with Brian, the other process engineer, and I learned a bunch more about the process. The people I met were just nice normal folks, and I started to have a pretty good feeling about the prospect of working there. I left with an application form and a free Quaker Steak 'n' Lube lunch in my stomach.
So that was it for awhile, and I dutifully went to another job fair, finding only dreary prospects that left the Guardian job seeming all the brighter and better. Then I got the call on the way to Harrisburg, I got the details Monday, I got the offer letter and benefits info Friday, and I signed myself away Wednesday. My background check has gone through fine, and now we await only a clear physical (Tuesday) to confirm my tentative start date of April 30th (Two weeks from today, seeing as it's no longer Sunday).
So, I'm planning to enjoy my last 2 weeks of freedom, and I'm contemplating the prospect of 50 years of working every day. That's part of being a man, and I'm ready to start, but I'm also interested to see if God brings some different things in the coming years. In my mind I'll be at this job for a year or two before I move up or out, which is expected of this position since it's a starter ChemE job. Whatever I end up doing, it will be great to start my career in operations, learning a real day-to-day manufacturing process.
I'm also anticipating being challenged in making new friendships and being a witness for Jesus Christ in a new and dominating context. I think God will have a lot of growth for me, and... well, I'm just not quite sure what it will really look like for me to settle into a job that won't just be over in 4 months or let me sit back and chill as a student. I believe that grace is there, and I'm ready to walk into it, but I'm not quite sure what I'll find when I get there :-)
And for now Dad's cool to let me live at home, so I'll be savin' like a fiend. Real life awaits, and it's nice to meet it with some money in the bank.
What a life I've been given! When I see where God has allowed me to start from, all I can really respond with is a desire and a determination to use it however He shows me to. Why the free engineering degree? Why the great job? Why the stable home and loads of life teaching and training? I can't say, and I won't feel guilty about it, but by God I'll do whatEVER He wants me to with it. And even as I looked over my offer package, I knew that 401K savings can melt away like snow, full bank accounts can shrivel to nothing in an instant, houses can crumble, and nations can collapse in a day. When I think of a wife and kids depending on me I already feel pangs of anxiety, but below that I know that if I'm where God wants me to be, I will be secure, and He will never let me down. Whatever He gives me, I'm grateful for, and wherever He takes me, I'll follow confidently.
Here I come! *dun dun dun*
--Clear Ambassador
I HAVE A JOB!
Yes, God has again pretty much dropped a life decision right in my lap. This time I was really prepared to roll up my sleeves and slog through a long and time-consuming job search. I didn't interview senior year, and I really didn't do much for two months after graduating, but then I started to do the things that good job hunters do: go to Career Services, work on my resume, sign up with Pitt's job hunting online service, and go to a job fair. Nothing was really clicking though, and I kept feeling like I was butting my head against a wall. Then one day not too far in I was looking over employees who had interviews scheduled at Pitt, and there was this company called Guardian Industries that was located in Jefferson Hills.
I did a double take.
Jefferson Hills?
That's where the Harveys live!
That's . . . really close!
Indeed, it was true. A classic starting chemical engineer job right down Rte. 51... 20 minutes from home and totally opposite downtown traffic! The responsibilities sounded intriguing (learn, troubleshoot and improve the glass-making process), and the interviews were in only a few days!
I signed up and sent some emails, and they ended up cancelling the Pitt interviews, but I got a phone interview a few days later. I remember studying up on the company like crazy when I found out, and basically being pretty worked-up about the call. It was my first real job interview ever, and all the mystique and foreboding and craziness I'd ever heard about seemed looming on the other side of that cell phone ring. But it came, I talked reasonably well, and most importantly, I didn't bomb :-) I asked some good questions at the end, and I guess they liked me, 'cause a few days later they called back and invited me for a plant tour and a series of in-person interviews.
That was on a Friday, from 9am to about 12:30. I got a long plant tour and then interviewed with four people, all the way up to the plant manager. All the interviews went very well - almost surprisingly easy and natural. The plant was pretty interesting - way way smaller than NOVA's huge spread-out multi-area site. It's one long warehouse-type building with silos and a furnace at one end and offices and glass plates at the other. Spanning the length is a long bed of liquid tin on which the glass floats, gets shaped, cools, and then is scored and broken into squares. It's a pretty nifty process, and it cranks out about 350 million tons of glass a year, running 24/7/52. Guardian itself is a 19,000-employee privately-owned company, 3rd or 4th worldwide in glass manufacturing and growing markedly for the past 20 years.
I guess they continued to like me 'cause Jake the HR guy called me back a few days later and said there had been a lot of positive comments after my visit and they wanted me back for a more in-depth plant tour and some more interviews. That was the day that I felt like the job was mine - it seemed more like my first day of work than an "interview." I talked more with Earl, who'll be my direct manager, and I hung around with Brian, the other process engineer, and I learned a bunch more about the process. The people I met were just nice normal folks, and I started to have a pretty good feeling about the prospect of working there. I left with an application form and a free Quaker Steak 'n' Lube lunch in my stomach.
So that was it for awhile, and I dutifully went to another job fair, finding only dreary prospects that left the Guardian job seeming all the brighter and better. Then I got the call on the way to Harrisburg, I got the details Monday, I got the offer letter and benefits info Friday, and I signed myself away Wednesday. My background check has gone through fine, and now we await only a clear physical (Tuesday) to confirm my tentative start date of April 30th (Two weeks from today, seeing as it's no longer Sunday).
So, I'm planning to enjoy my last 2 weeks of freedom, and I'm contemplating the prospect of 50 years of working every day. That's part of being a man, and I'm ready to start, but I'm also interested to see if God brings some different things in the coming years. In my mind I'll be at this job for a year or two before I move up or out, which is expected of this position since it's a starter ChemE job. Whatever I end up doing, it will be great to start my career in operations, learning a real day-to-day manufacturing process.
I'm also anticipating being challenged in making new friendships and being a witness for Jesus Christ in a new and dominating context. I think God will have a lot of growth for me, and... well, I'm just not quite sure what it will really look like for me to settle into a job that won't just be over in 4 months or let me sit back and chill as a student. I believe that grace is there, and I'm ready to walk into it, but I'm not quite sure what I'll find when I get there :-)
And for now Dad's cool to let me live at home, so I'll be savin' like a fiend. Real life awaits, and it's nice to meet it with some money in the bank.
What a life I've been given! When I see where God has allowed me to start from, all I can really respond with is a desire and a determination to use it however He shows me to. Why the free engineering degree? Why the great job? Why the stable home and loads of life teaching and training? I can't say, and I won't feel guilty about it, but by God I'll do whatEVER He wants me to with it. And even as I looked over my offer package, I knew that 401K savings can melt away like snow, full bank accounts can shrivel to nothing in an instant, houses can crumble, and nations can collapse in a day. When I think of a wife and kids depending on me I already feel pangs of anxiety, but below that I know that if I'm where God wants me to be, I will be secure, and He will never let me down. Whatever He gives me, I'm grateful for, and wherever He takes me, I'll follow confidently.
Here I come! *dun dun dun*
--Clear Ambassador
Thursday, April 12, 2007
The Gaze of Your Love
>>Sorry if this is a repeat for you Facebookers amongst us<<
I started coming up with a new song Tuesday whilst trying to prepare for care group at Grove City. I was really trying to think over and express many threads of thought that have been planted in my mind and heart over the past few weeks. Trying to see how fully and truly we are covered by what Jesus did. The core of these thoughts is probably Ephesians 1:4 - that we are holy and without blame before Him in love.
I haven't done much writing or recording recently because I've been so discouraged at my suckiness compared to Switchfoot. That comparison still remains accurate, but God blessed this song, I think because it's born out of wonder and consideration of what He's done for me. He blessed the recording, too, and I hope you enjoy it and are encouraged by it. (click the title to hear the recording)
The Gaze of Your Love
John Behrens
April 10-12, 2007
You pick up the pieces and lead us to Jesus again
You bridge all the breaches that keep us from entering in
You freely receive us because of what Jesus has done
You love us as deeply and sweetly as You love Your Son
We are ho - ly
No blame remains as we stand before You in love
We are ho - ly
Spo - tless and clean
No stain, no shame to break the gaze of Your love
You guide us and teach us and reach out to meet us again
There's nothing we bring as we stand and we sing of the Son
You kindly remind us the past is behind us and sin
Was borne in your body and broken when You rose again!
We are ho - ly
Spotless in Your sight
No blame remains as we stand before You in love
We are ho - ly
Clothed in radiant white
No stain, no shame to break the gaze of Your love
I started coming up with a new song Tuesday whilst trying to prepare for care group at Grove City. I was really trying to think over and express many threads of thought that have been planted in my mind and heart over the past few weeks. Trying to see how fully and truly we are covered by what Jesus did. The core of these thoughts is probably Ephesians 1:4 - that we are holy and without blame before Him in love.
I haven't done much writing or recording recently because I've been so discouraged at my suckiness compared to Switchfoot. That comparison still remains accurate, but God blessed this song, I think because it's born out of wonder and consideration of what He's done for me. He blessed the recording, too, and I hope you enjoy it and are encouraged by it. (click the title to hear the recording)
The Gaze of Your Love
John Behrens
April 10-12, 2007
You pick up the pieces and lead us to Jesus again
You bridge all the breaches that keep us from entering in
You freely receive us because of what Jesus has done
You love us as deeply and sweetly as You love Your Son
We are ho - ly
No blame remains as we stand before You in love
We are ho - ly
Spo - tless and clean
No stain, no shame to break the gaze of Your love
You guide us and teach us and reach out to meet us again
There's nothing we bring as we stand and we sing of the Son
You kindly remind us the past is behind us and sin
Was borne in your body and broken when You rose again!
We are ho - ly
Spotless in Your sight
No blame remains as we stand before You in love
We are ho - ly
Clothed in radiant white
No stain, no shame to break the gaze of Your love
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Aaaaaand, God comes through!
Yep yep. Unlike the Pirates in yesterday's home opener, God pulled through tonight.
I went up to Grove City to bring Daniel back after break and lead worship for the grover care group, but I ended up going from worship leader to leader when Joel called and said he couldn't make it. Unfortunately, I had no inspiration whatsoever as I tried to plan some worship songs and prayer/discussion topics in the afternoon. My spiritual EKG was flatlined, and I was rather worried for the meeting. But I prayed for what I knew God would do--bless His children with what He knows they need--and walked on, pulling songs out, reading some verses, calling Joel, and pondering. I prayed a lot that He would meet us and minister Christ to us, whether or not there were emotions or particularly awesome experiences.
What I want to say here is that God answered those prayers. And I was really banking on that, 'cause I came into the meeting with nothing but 8 scattered songs, some verses from John 17 that have been meaningful in the past, and a lot of somewhat confused prayer.
As we went through some songs, I felt and saw God direct the meeting--having people go around and thank God after the first song, looking over the songs and seeing which one to do next, etc. And by His kindness, I really did start to get stirred up afresh at what God has done for us and how great and greatly-to-be-praised He is. We ended up having a great time sharing what was going in our lives, praying for each other, and singing God's praises. God even gave us some "frosting," like having conversation flow pretty comfortably--not necessary, but very nice.
So... God really did it! I put my foot out into darkness, and found ground under it. I suppose I find this particularly noteworthy because it all happened in the space of a few hours, and it was crystal clear that I had nothing, and God answered my prayers.
Um, this probably shouldn't be such a big deal to me, but I think it's really really cool, and I hope you're encouraged to walk where God shows you to, and to pray in faith, really trusting for what the Bible clearly says He will do.
Guess what?
He'll do it. Whoa! :-P
--Clear Ambassador
I went up to Grove City to bring Daniel back after break and lead worship for the grover care group, but I ended up going from worship leader to leader when Joel called and said he couldn't make it. Unfortunately, I had no inspiration whatsoever as I tried to plan some worship songs and prayer/discussion topics in the afternoon. My spiritual EKG was flatlined, and I was rather worried for the meeting. But I prayed for what I knew God would do--bless His children with what He knows they need--and walked on, pulling songs out, reading some verses, calling Joel, and pondering. I prayed a lot that He would meet us and minister Christ to us, whether or not there were emotions or particularly awesome experiences.
What I want to say here is that God answered those prayers. And I was really banking on that, 'cause I came into the meeting with nothing but 8 scattered songs, some verses from John 17 that have been meaningful in the past, and a lot of somewhat confused prayer.
As we went through some songs, I felt and saw God direct the meeting--having people go around and thank God after the first song, looking over the songs and seeing which one to do next, etc. And by His kindness, I really did start to get stirred up afresh at what God has done for us and how great and greatly-to-be-praised He is. We ended up having a great time sharing what was going in our lives, praying for each other, and singing God's praises. God even gave us some "frosting," like having conversation flow pretty comfortably--not necessary, but very nice.
So... God really did it! I put my foot out into darkness, and found ground under it. I suppose I find this particularly noteworthy because it all happened in the space of a few hours, and it was crystal clear that I had nothing, and God answered my prayers.
Um, this probably shouldn't be such a big deal to me, but I think it's really really cool, and I hope you're encouraged to walk where God shows you to, and to pray in faith, really trusting for what the Bible clearly says He will do.
Guess what?
He'll do it. Whoa! :-P
--Clear Ambassador
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Take a ride on the vignette blimp!
Vignette. That's the word.
It was a full and eventful trip, but I don't want to descend again into the chronologically-precise slog of my typical trip account.
So we'll start up in the Goodyear Blimp, taking a wide shot looking down over the weekend. If you follow the little dotted lines around the map, you'll see that Mike Q, Shannon Q, Kayte B and I drove 4 hours down the windey PA Turnpike to Harrisburg, Kayte's hometown. We went to see the Harrsiburg church, the Bell family, and to run a 10K race which some of the Bells were doing. We left Friday at 3:30, and we got back Monday at 5:30 or so. That's the Family Circus version.
Now we jump out of the blimp, pop out our Kevlar 6-foot gliding wings, shoot down towards the grey ground below, and crash through the roof of the new Pleasant Hills Chick-Fil-A. We were there twice over the trip, and it comes to mind when I think of the weekend. Vignettes, remember? Anyway, Mike had his stash of coupons, so he got us all free combos on the way out and the way in. Verily, it was on the way out, whilst balancing my sandwich and fries and holding my Dr.Pepper firmly between my legs in the back seat of Harvey (Kayte's car) that my phone rang and I got a job offer! Nice way to start the trip. We also ended our travels with a long sit in the restaurant, eating our ridiculously free food and having a rollicking good time. As Steph would say, the four of us had bonded over the weekend, and it was fun to hang out there for an extra hour before hitting the Q's and splitting up.
So that was Chick-Fil-A. Great place. Another picture is the four of us in the car. Mike and I traded off driving to be manly. I think we got roughly 3 manpoints per 10 miles driven, if I remember the latest manpoints rewards plan.
Harvey is an old Ford Explorer, so he had plenty of room inside, which was nice. I played guitar on the way out (when not driving, gosh), but other than that we didn't play music, which was actually nice 'cause we just talked. And ahh, what a great group of people! No worries about redeeming vacuous conversation, no striving to stay involved or keep someone else from being left out - just abiding and having a blast. The Quinlisks are like family, and Kayte fit in enthusiastically like she does in everything. We got running jokes started (like annoying Shannon), we talked about real stuff like our parents and plans and possibilities, we commented on the world as it passed by, and it all flowed very nicely. One of my favorite parts was when I had each of us say something we respect about each of our parents. The depth and encouragement of what we shared still lingers. I say again - good group of people :-)
**BEEP BEEP** Gratuitious Vignette Alert! **BEEP BEEP**
Sitting in the back left of the SUV, all folded joints sweaty, definitely aware that Harvey's AC isn't working and the sun's radiation definitely is, but nobody's said anything.
Shannon: Man it's hot in here!
Kayte: Yeah! I know..
John: Agh, sorry guys! I just can't help it, geez.
*clamorous expressions of disdain* Heheheheh
Hmm. Let's see how to work this now. Basically, we're back in the blimp again, we just watched our little band of voyagers truck across the state, and now we're jumping out again over open green farmland/housing developments. It was night when we arrived, but right now it's day so that you can see around. The sky is crystal clear, the sun is shining, the grass below seems to glow green of its own accord, and as we drift down under our parachutes, warm smells of cow manure drift up to meet us (hah farmland). We settle down in a cul-de-sac 10 minutes from anything but other houses and some pretty farms. That big box of a house with a basketball hoop out front is the Bell's house. Let's go inside, shall we?
Ahh yes my friend, you see the spacious comfort of this fine Pennsylvania home? Out here in the country, space is a plentiful commodity, spent with ease. It is neat, it is new, it is nice, no? It makes a nice setting for the weekend, no? Indeed. Big new houses are one of my favorite things. And despite Mrs. Bell's protestations, the unfinished basement was sweet too. Mike and I slept down there in the couch quadrant. We also played ping-pong in the ping-pong table quadrant, thought about wrestling in the wrestling mat quadrant, and stayed away from the storage shelves quadrant. Big basement. And I was undefeated in ping-pong except for the Chinese ping-pong, in which I was.. the opposite of undefeated. Unvictorious, I suppose. Or unundefeated.
And how about the people living in this house? From what habitat springs this Kayte we've known for 4 years? What must the household of Debra Bell, renowned homeschool speaker and writer, be like? Is it indeed as fun and funny living with Gabe as you would think?
Well, the Bell family is cool. Very friendly, open and humorous. The household seems commesurate with the house: big, open, and lots of stuff in and out :-) Mike and Destiny live 15 minutes away, so they're around often. There's a Bible study every Sunday, and I get the impression that Gabe and assorted friends come and go whenever. They welcomed us in unceremoniously and unselfishly, and it didn't take long at all to be very comfortable in the house, hanging out, talking, laughing, and participating in what was going on.
When we got there Mike, Destiny, Gabe and a friend Dan were playing a hot game of spades, Mrs. Bell was at a conference in St. Louis, Mr. Bell was heating up some pizza, and Kristen was around. We talked, unloaded Harvey, played some ping-pong, and several of us went for a run around 9:30. Mike Q and I ended up out on the back porch with Gabe and Dan, smokin' pipes and enjoying the first warm night of the spring. Good batchelor stuff as Gabe put it :-) We talked in the kitchen till after 2, and Dan finally headed off and we hit the sack. That night was a lot of fun.
*Whizzz* *click* *whirrr*
That's me reeling you back in to my blimp vignette analogy thing.
Hokay, so, we're in the blimp again, and this time we've drifted away from the Bell house over to a Holiday Inn around Harrisburg. It's Saturday morning - 65 degrees and sunny. Using our magical vignette X-ray goggles, we look inside one of the meeting rooms, and behold! Half the Harrisburg church is there, and several folks from the Philly prophecy team are doing a prophecy seminar. Mr. Prater teaches a couple times, and we have two times of ministry. Mike is standing at the sound board helping (which makes him happy), Shannon and I are sitting watching people get prayed for, and most everybody else is prayer or a prayee. Cool way to spend a Saturday morning, and another reminder that God really is real, and really is beyond this natural world. I think a lot of people were encouraged and challenged and stirred up, which is great.
Mmm, the rest of Saturday... got home late after helping Darryl (sp?) tear down sound stuff, had a hearty ham lunch (which really made it feel like Sunday), and eventually ended up hiking in the woods at a nearby state park (or some such preserve). That was another enjoyable time of comfortable fellowship - walking, picking our way down paths or through thorns, and talking on and off between various groups about life. From our magical blimp standpoint we would see our pluckish band wander around the woods (*cough* lost? *cough*), we'd notice a few manpoint-earning assisted creek crossings, and we'd probably laugh at the silliness of these fine folks trekking through half-mile-wide thorn patches. We'd definitely laugh when I fall flat on my face in the middle of a clear path after successfully transversing said ungainly terrian. Yep yep, I'm a smooth one :-)
Let's pull out those vignette X-ray goggles again, and this time look inside the Bell home. We'd see me spending a lot of time diddling quietly on my guitar in rooms full of talking people. Saturday and Sunday we ended up spending many blocks of time sitting around the living room/dining room area and talking with whoever was around. Most of those times I would pick up the guitar and start amusedly musicating. I wonder about that - I wonder if it was nice, unnoticed, or perhaps annoying for the people around. I wonder if it's a lazy personal alternative to entering more fully into the conversation. I wonder...arg, if I'll ever write a song that is a good and personal as "Only Hope" has been for me. Switchfoot is amazing and I'm terrible. But that's unrelated. Anyway, yeah - lots of guitar. One cool thing was that I wrote a song about Kristen (Kayte's sister) for her birthday, which was Sunday. I sang it during her nonchalant birthday observance, and I think folks enjoyed it. Writing songs about people seems to be a musical thing that people like far more than I wish they liked my songs and skills. Funny how that works.
Ah, and Saturday night late sitting around just me and Mike Q I wrote a song with his lyrical help that's kinda cool and sounds like an old folk song. You would have needed magical vignette X-ray microphones to hear it, though, 'cause it was pretty quiet.
Sunday was church, the race, the Bible study in the house, Kristen's birthday, and more chilling/guitar diddling time. Church was, well, rather unexceptional in a completely benign way. Mr. Prater spoke, so I didn't get to see the home pastor do his stuff, and we didn't hang around much afterwards 'cause we were off to the race. The message on evangelism was good, but nothing new to me. It will become more applicable when I start working, which will be interesting to see. I will say that the worship team seemed to copy, admirably but uninventively (and somewhat stiffly) the CD arrangements of the songs they played. I've never seen that before in a Sovereign Grace church.
Our blimp now drifts down south to York, PA, where a bunch of sportily-clad people are hopping about, stretching, mulling, and fussing over headphones and mp3 players. Finally they all pack together like a motley amoeba, somebody yells "GO!" over a megaphone, and the amoeba starts to stretch out. Pretty much at the back of the amoeba is a little girl in pink running determinedly, another little girl in purple running amiably, a thick-built guy in a maroon Izod fleece running like a farm horse, and a skinny guy in an AE shirt trotting along and trying not to go faster. Up somewhere in the middle is a short-blue-shorted giraffe running pell-mell, long legs kicking (Yep, that's Mike. And in case you were wondering, those people were Kayte, Destiny, Gabe and myself). By the end of the race the amoeba has gotten really stretched out and distended. The AE guy comes in on his last breath after a fast second half, the Izod guy motors up the hill with amazing speed, the giraffe lays it all out for the final stretch, purple girl zips up with a smile on her face, and pink girl powers to the end with a wild Bell look of eager determination. Everybody had a great experience, and the pretty green land around the running trail enjoyed being looked at.
Oooh yeah. With our X-ray microphone (not quite sure how that works, but hey, it's magical, right?) we would hear Gabe call AE boy a beast, which is pretty spiffy coming from him. AE boy still wants to beat him up the hill, though.
Anyway, moving on to Monday. Monday was nice, for those of us who didn't have to get up early and run the American economy. Sunny, relaxed, and more fun time with the four of us. I got up at 9:15 and drank some milk whilst waiting for my call about the job offer. The call went great, and the offer, while not stunningly awesome, is totally solid, and I'm 99.5% sure I'll take it. It's a great blessing to get it, too, because aside from this job other prospects are kinda dreary. I got to take the call in Mrs. Bell's airy office, which was nice and quiet.
After the phone call you vignette blimp observers will note our foursome packing into Harvey and toodling down to a fabric store to sate Kayte's (totally cool and not-unnormal or homeschool-geeky) passion for quilting. You'll wait in vain to see Mike and me leave the store soon after entering. Hah! Verily, Mike and I ended up hanging around in there the whole time, looking at the myriad patterns and thinking about Youth Camp team colors and remarking on noteworthy fabrics. We even helped the ladies pick out some patterns. I tell ya - whatever the four of us did together, we made it a good time :-)
After the store and some lunch we dragged ourselves into packing up and heading out. I had to get back in time to leave with Mom, Dad and Daniel for Gettysburg (tracking right back down the same road!), and Kayte wanted to get settled back in for Tuesday. So, another road trip, more holding breaths through tunnels (I remain undefeated and unchallenged, HAH!), more sunshine, twists and vistas, and more great fellowship.
I suppose the picture in my mind of this trip is of sparkling sunshine, a big house surrounded by green green grass and open, rolling hills, and probably Gabe saying something funny about somebody. I'm pretty glad we got to see Harrisburg while we still have a tour guide here in Pittsburgh, and hopefully some day I can come back and beat Gabe up the hill at the end of his nightly run. Garr! D-:
I guess that does it. Good trip! I definitely feel a "bond" between the four of us, cheesy though that may sound. It's an honor to get to spend that much time with such good friends, and the memory will linger long and happily in all our memories.
Farewell, vignette blimp! Farewell magical X-ray goggles and technologically bewildering but concurrently magical X-ray microphone! As it drifts away into the Monday sunset, it leaves us with a faint, effervescent picture: The four of us 5 years from now. It's more a spark of excitement than a picture. Excitement and curiousity at where God might take us in our lives. I'm happy to know everybody now, and it should be fun to track our progress as we walk along with our interesting Guide.
--Clear Ambassador
It was a full and eventful trip, but I don't want to descend again into the chronologically-precise slog of my typical trip account.
So we'll start up in the Goodyear Blimp, taking a wide shot looking down over the weekend. If you follow the little dotted lines around the map, you'll see that Mike Q, Shannon Q, Kayte B and I drove 4 hours down the windey PA Turnpike to Harrisburg, Kayte's hometown. We went to see the Harrsiburg church, the Bell family, and to run a 10K race which some of the Bells were doing. We left Friday at 3:30, and we got back Monday at 5:30 or so. That's the Family Circus version.
Now we jump out of the blimp, pop out our Kevlar 6-foot gliding wings, shoot down towards the grey ground below, and crash through the roof of the new Pleasant Hills Chick-Fil-A. We were there twice over the trip, and it comes to mind when I think of the weekend. Vignettes, remember? Anyway, Mike had his stash of coupons, so he got us all free combos on the way out and the way in. Verily, it was on the way out, whilst balancing my sandwich and fries and holding my Dr.Pepper firmly between my legs in the back seat of Harvey (Kayte's car) that my phone rang and I got a job offer! Nice way to start the trip. We also ended our travels with a long sit in the restaurant, eating our ridiculously free food and having a rollicking good time. As Steph would say, the four of us had bonded over the weekend, and it was fun to hang out there for an extra hour before hitting the Q's and splitting up.
So that was Chick-Fil-A. Great place. Another picture is the four of us in the car. Mike and I traded off driving to be manly. I think we got roughly 3 manpoints per 10 miles driven, if I remember the latest manpoints rewards plan.
Harvey is an old Ford Explorer, so he had plenty of room inside, which was nice. I played guitar on the way out (when not driving, gosh), but other than that we didn't play music, which was actually nice 'cause we just talked. And ahh, what a great group of people! No worries about redeeming vacuous conversation, no striving to stay involved or keep someone else from being left out - just abiding and having a blast. The Quinlisks are like family, and Kayte fit in enthusiastically like she does in everything. We got running jokes started (like annoying Shannon), we talked about real stuff like our parents and plans and possibilities, we commented on the world as it passed by, and it all flowed very nicely. One of my favorite parts was when I had each of us say something we respect about each of our parents. The depth and encouragement of what we shared still lingers. I say again - good group of people :-)
**BEEP BEEP** Gratuitious Vignette Alert! **BEEP BEEP**
Sitting in the back left of the SUV, all folded joints sweaty, definitely aware that Harvey's AC isn't working and the sun's radiation definitely is, but nobody's said anything.
Shannon: Man it's hot in here!
Kayte: Yeah! I know..
John: Agh, sorry guys! I just can't help it, geez.
*clamorous expressions of disdain* Heheheheh
Hmm. Let's see how to work this now. Basically, we're back in the blimp again, we just watched our little band of voyagers truck across the state, and now we're jumping out again over open green farmland/housing developments. It was night when we arrived, but right now it's day so that you can see around. The sky is crystal clear, the sun is shining, the grass below seems to glow green of its own accord, and as we drift down under our parachutes, warm smells of cow manure drift up to meet us (hah farmland). We settle down in a cul-de-sac 10 minutes from anything but other houses and some pretty farms. That big box of a house with a basketball hoop out front is the Bell's house. Let's go inside, shall we?
Ahh yes my friend, you see the spacious comfort of this fine Pennsylvania home? Out here in the country, space is a plentiful commodity, spent with ease. It is neat, it is new, it is nice, no? It makes a nice setting for the weekend, no? Indeed. Big new houses are one of my favorite things. And despite Mrs. Bell's protestations, the unfinished basement was sweet too. Mike and I slept down there in the couch quadrant. We also played ping-pong in the ping-pong table quadrant, thought about wrestling in the wrestling mat quadrant, and stayed away from the storage shelves quadrant. Big basement. And I was undefeated in ping-pong except for the Chinese ping-pong, in which I was.. the opposite of undefeated. Unvictorious, I suppose. Or unundefeated.
And how about the people living in this house? From what habitat springs this Kayte we've known for 4 years? What must the household of Debra Bell, renowned homeschool speaker and writer, be like? Is it indeed as fun and funny living with Gabe as you would think?
Well, the Bell family is cool. Very friendly, open and humorous. The household seems commesurate with the house: big, open, and lots of stuff in and out :-) Mike and Destiny live 15 minutes away, so they're around often. There's a Bible study every Sunday, and I get the impression that Gabe and assorted friends come and go whenever. They welcomed us in unceremoniously and unselfishly, and it didn't take long at all to be very comfortable in the house, hanging out, talking, laughing, and participating in what was going on.
When we got there Mike, Destiny, Gabe and a friend Dan were playing a hot game of spades, Mrs. Bell was at a conference in St. Louis, Mr. Bell was heating up some pizza, and Kristen was around. We talked, unloaded Harvey, played some ping-pong, and several of us went for a run around 9:30. Mike Q and I ended up out on the back porch with Gabe and Dan, smokin' pipes and enjoying the first warm night of the spring. Good batchelor stuff as Gabe put it :-) We talked in the kitchen till after 2, and Dan finally headed off and we hit the sack. That night was a lot of fun.
*Whizzz* *click* *whirrr*
That's me reeling you back in to my blimp vignette analogy thing.
Hokay, so, we're in the blimp again, and this time we've drifted away from the Bell house over to a Holiday Inn around Harrisburg. It's Saturday morning - 65 degrees and sunny. Using our magical vignette X-ray goggles, we look inside one of the meeting rooms, and behold! Half the Harrisburg church is there, and several folks from the Philly prophecy team are doing a prophecy seminar. Mr. Prater teaches a couple times, and we have two times of ministry. Mike is standing at the sound board helping (which makes him happy), Shannon and I are sitting watching people get prayed for, and most everybody else is prayer or a prayee. Cool way to spend a Saturday morning, and another reminder that God really is real, and really is beyond this natural world. I think a lot of people were encouraged and challenged and stirred up, which is great.
Mmm, the rest of Saturday... got home late after helping Darryl (sp?) tear down sound stuff, had a hearty ham lunch (which really made it feel like Sunday), and eventually ended up hiking in the woods at a nearby state park (or some such preserve). That was another enjoyable time of comfortable fellowship - walking, picking our way down paths or through thorns, and talking on and off between various groups about life. From our magical blimp standpoint we would see our pluckish band wander around the woods (*cough* lost? *cough*), we'd notice a few manpoint-earning assisted creek crossings, and we'd probably laugh at the silliness of these fine folks trekking through half-mile-wide thorn patches. We'd definitely laugh when I fall flat on my face in the middle of a clear path after successfully transversing said ungainly terrian. Yep yep, I'm a smooth one :-)
Let's pull out those vignette X-ray goggles again, and this time look inside the Bell home. We'd see me spending a lot of time diddling quietly on my guitar in rooms full of talking people. Saturday and Sunday we ended up spending many blocks of time sitting around the living room/dining room area and talking with whoever was around. Most of those times I would pick up the guitar and start amusedly musicating. I wonder about that - I wonder if it was nice, unnoticed, or perhaps annoying for the people around. I wonder if it's a lazy personal alternative to entering more fully into the conversation. I wonder...arg, if I'll ever write a song that is a good and personal as "Only Hope" has been for me. Switchfoot is amazing and I'm terrible. But that's unrelated. Anyway, yeah - lots of guitar. One cool thing was that I wrote a song about Kristen (Kayte's sister) for her birthday, which was Sunday. I sang it during her nonchalant birthday observance, and I think folks enjoyed it. Writing songs about people seems to be a musical thing that people like far more than I wish they liked my songs and skills. Funny how that works.
Ah, and Saturday night late sitting around just me and Mike Q I wrote a song with his lyrical help that's kinda cool and sounds like an old folk song. You would have needed magical vignette X-ray microphones to hear it, though, 'cause it was pretty quiet.
Sunday was church, the race, the Bible study in the house, Kristen's birthday, and more chilling/guitar diddling time. Church was, well, rather unexceptional in a completely benign way. Mr. Prater spoke, so I didn't get to see the home pastor do his stuff, and we didn't hang around much afterwards 'cause we were off to the race. The message on evangelism was good, but nothing new to me. It will become more applicable when I start working, which will be interesting to see. I will say that the worship team seemed to copy, admirably but uninventively (and somewhat stiffly) the CD arrangements of the songs they played. I've never seen that before in a Sovereign Grace church.
Our blimp now drifts down south to York, PA, where a bunch of sportily-clad people are hopping about, stretching, mulling, and fussing over headphones and mp3 players. Finally they all pack together like a motley amoeba, somebody yells "GO!" over a megaphone, and the amoeba starts to stretch out. Pretty much at the back of the amoeba is a little girl in pink running determinedly, another little girl in purple running amiably, a thick-built guy in a maroon Izod fleece running like a farm horse, and a skinny guy in an AE shirt trotting along and trying not to go faster. Up somewhere in the middle is a short-blue-shorted giraffe running pell-mell, long legs kicking (Yep, that's Mike. And in case you were wondering, those people were Kayte, Destiny, Gabe and myself). By the end of the race the amoeba has gotten really stretched out and distended. The AE guy comes in on his last breath after a fast second half, the Izod guy motors up the hill with amazing speed, the giraffe lays it all out for the final stretch, purple girl zips up with a smile on her face, and pink girl powers to the end with a wild Bell look of eager determination. Everybody had a great experience, and the pretty green land around the running trail enjoyed being looked at.
Oooh yeah. With our X-ray microphone (not quite sure how that works, but hey, it's magical, right?) we would hear Gabe call AE boy a beast, which is pretty spiffy coming from him. AE boy still wants to beat him up the hill, though.
Anyway, moving on to Monday. Monday was nice, for those of us who didn't have to get up early and run the American economy. Sunny, relaxed, and more fun time with the four of us. I got up at 9:15 and drank some milk whilst waiting for my call about the job offer. The call went great, and the offer, while not stunningly awesome, is totally solid, and I'm 99.5% sure I'll take it. It's a great blessing to get it, too, because aside from this job other prospects are kinda dreary. I got to take the call in Mrs. Bell's airy office, which was nice and quiet.
After the phone call you vignette blimp observers will note our foursome packing into Harvey and toodling down to a fabric store to sate Kayte's (totally cool and not-unnormal or homeschool-geeky) passion for quilting. You'll wait in vain to see Mike and me leave the store soon after entering. Hah! Verily, Mike and I ended up hanging around in there the whole time, looking at the myriad patterns and thinking about Youth Camp team colors and remarking on noteworthy fabrics. We even helped the ladies pick out some patterns. I tell ya - whatever the four of us did together, we made it a good time :-)
After the store and some lunch we dragged ourselves into packing up and heading out. I had to get back in time to leave with Mom, Dad and Daniel for Gettysburg (tracking right back down the same road!), and Kayte wanted to get settled back in for Tuesday. So, another road trip, more holding breaths through tunnels (I remain undefeated and unchallenged, HAH!), more sunshine, twists and vistas, and more great fellowship.
I suppose the picture in my mind of this trip is of sparkling sunshine, a big house surrounded by green green grass and open, rolling hills, and probably Gabe saying something funny about somebody. I'm pretty glad we got to see Harrisburg while we still have a tour guide here in Pittsburgh, and hopefully some day I can come back and beat Gabe up the hill at the end of his nightly run. Garr! D-:
I guess that does it. Good trip! I definitely feel a "bond" between the four of us, cheesy though that may sound. It's an honor to get to spend that much time with such good friends, and the memory will linger long and happily in all our memories.
Farewell, vignette blimp! Farewell magical X-ray goggles and technologically bewildering but concurrently magical X-ray microphone! As it drifts away into the Monday sunset, it leaves us with a faint, effervescent picture: The four of us 5 years from now. It's more a spark of excitement than a picture. Excitement and curiousity at where God might take us in our lives. I'm happy to know everybody now, and it should be fun to track our progress as we walk along with our interesting Guide.
--Clear Ambassador
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Chick-fil-A Grand Opening
It's 7:20am, and I'm wide awake. That in itself is odd. I was also curled up under my leather jacket on a stranger's chair in a parking lot at 4am. That is very odd :-) Yes folks, despite my initial disinclination towards it, I ended up participating in the "First 100" tailgate party outside the Chick-fil-A opening up on 51. In case you don't know, when a free-standing Chick-fil-A opens up they give a year's worth of combo meals (52 coupons) to the first 100 people in line. Folks start coming at 6:30am, 24 hours before the restaurant officially opens. They have music, some free food, games, and occasional roll calls to make sure people don't sign up and then leave.
I knew Mike Q and some others were doing it, and Jonathan left around 9pm, but I was laying in the chair in Mom and Dad's room randomly dozing with Daisy on my lap, and I didn't feel like doing something different. But Huggies called me at 11 o'clock and said I should come down and bring some guitars, and I made a "what the heck" decision to go. I was half thinking I'd just stay for a few hours and leave, but once I got there and started hanging out with some guys and having fun, I decided to stick it out. I wasn't one of the first 100, but those from 101 to 130 have a chance to win one of 5 more "chicken for a year" deals that are raffled off based on how long you've been there.
So we played guitar, did hackey sack, watched the soccer players and hoped they broke a window, got in line for roll call, and enjoyed the free tea and coffee. Around midnight they had everybody inside for free ice-cream sundaes, and Dan Cathy, the president of Chick-fil-A (and son of its founder) gave a pep talk. This was the awesome part of the evening, because he also gave a solid and genuine talk, read a verse from Romans, and prayed right there in front of everybody. It wasn't some cheesy or fakely-pious spiritual blab, but a straight-foward, humble, honest and relevant sharing. The verse was the one that says how people didn't give glory to God as God or thank Him, which isn't a feel-good verse by any means. I was quite heartened by such a genuine Christian witness, and I have heaps of respect for Dan Cathy and how he's running his whole company.
The night was pretty fun, but it really started to drag around 4am. The group of guys I was hanging out with started bedding down in sleeping bags and folding chairs, but I just couldn't get warm enough under my jacket, with my rear end on the pavement and the cold wind biting through leather, hoodie and denim. 15 minutes literally passed like an hour, and I decided this wasn't worth it, so I got up again and passed more slow time standing, walking, talking and freezing. In the midst of warm weather, this night dipped down to freezing, making us earn our free combos.
So, to end this stor, we had afinal role call, I didn't win the raffle, but Mike Q gave me a bunch of his coupons because he's a great guy and a great friend, I finally got some chicken, and I drove home facing beautifully-lit skies and feeling not bad, but not quite normal. Now I'm jacked on Dr.Pepper, I'm running 5 miles at 11am, I'm listening to RelientK, and Mom's starting laundry. What a strange and sweet night!
I like the image in my mind - the parking lot lit by white street lights, the tent area, the football area, the soccer area, the people hunched over poker tables, the clean new restaurant, and the fun sense of camraderie with everybody there. It was a good time, and Chick-fil-A is walking out a Christian business as well as I think it's possible. Mad props!
--Bleary Ambassador
I knew Mike Q and some others were doing it, and Jonathan left around 9pm, but I was laying in the chair in Mom and Dad's room randomly dozing with Daisy on my lap, and I didn't feel like doing something different. But Huggies called me at 11 o'clock and said I should come down and bring some guitars, and I made a "what the heck" decision to go. I was half thinking I'd just stay for a few hours and leave, but once I got there and started hanging out with some guys and having fun, I decided to stick it out. I wasn't one of the first 100, but those from 101 to 130 have a chance to win one of 5 more "chicken for a year" deals that are raffled off based on how long you've been there.
So we played guitar, did hackey sack, watched the soccer players and hoped they broke a window, got in line for roll call, and enjoyed the free tea and coffee. Around midnight they had everybody inside for free ice-cream sundaes, and Dan Cathy, the president of Chick-fil-A (and son of its founder) gave a pep talk. This was the awesome part of the evening, because he also gave a solid and genuine talk, read a verse from Romans, and prayed right there in front of everybody. It wasn't some cheesy or fakely-pious spiritual blab, but a straight-foward, humble, honest and relevant sharing. The verse was the one that says how people didn't give glory to God as God or thank Him, which isn't a feel-good verse by any means. I was quite heartened by such a genuine Christian witness, and I have heaps of respect for Dan Cathy and how he's running his whole company.
The night was pretty fun, but it really started to drag around 4am. The group of guys I was hanging out with started bedding down in sleeping bags and folding chairs, but I just couldn't get warm enough under my jacket, with my rear end on the pavement and the cold wind biting through leather, hoodie and denim. 15 minutes literally passed like an hour, and I decided this wasn't worth it, so I got up again and passed more slow time standing, walking, talking and freezing. In the midst of warm weather, this night dipped down to freezing, making us earn our free combos.
So, to end this stor, we had afinal role call, I didn't win the raffle, but Mike Q gave me a bunch of his coupons because he's a great guy and a great friend, I finally got some chicken, and I drove home facing beautifully-lit skies and feeling not bad, but not quite normal. Now I'm jacked on Dr.Pepper, I'm running 5 miles at 11am, I'm listening to RelientK, and Mom's starting laundry. What a strange and sweet night!
I like the image in my mind - the parking lot lit by white street lights, the tent area, the football area, the soccer area, the people hunched over poker tables, the clean new restaurant, and the fun sense of camraderie with everybody there. It was a good time, and Chick-fil-A is walking out a Christian business as well as I think it's possible. Mad props!
--Bleary Ambassador
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Good Days
Today was pretty much an amazingly sweet day, and it follows on the heels of another really sweet day - both of them making good use of my current freedom.
Yesterday I got up before 9 and Mom and I went to the Strip District to buy vegetables. We stopped in at a coffee shop on the way to Stan's Produce Market and I found FOUR new flavors of "Oral Fixation" mints - a windfall in the mint collection department! I also got a latte there. It was not the latte of a child. They roast their own beans, and they do it remarkably...thoroughly. It pretty much left the taste of a cigar in my mouth.
We got about $40 of veggies at Stan's, and we were home in plenty of time for Mom to leave for her lunch with Jere. I spent the rest of the day working on "All The Things That You've Done." I finished up the drums first, and I think after that I heated up some soup and casserole for lunch and did some devotions. I picked up "My Utmost For His Highest" on Friday (at lunch during jury duty) and so far it's been cool - challenging my conception of what a Christ-centered life looks like. After the nutritional and spiritual vittles I hit the electric guitar. Other than a break for dinner with Mom, Dad and Jonathan, I basically flipped through the various parts of the song and laid down a bunch of different guitar parts. It was pretty fun sitting there, dialing up whatever tone I wanted to on the GT-6 and enjoying the benefits of my increased electric playing of late, but I have a sinking suspicion that I'll end up deleting everything I did once I get vocals and bass down. That's how you learn stuff - waste a day recording parts in the wrong order, and never make the same mistake again :-
So, Monday was sweet. Up in the morning, veggies with Mom, recording (which is kind of like doing school work - rewarding, but hard to get myself into), and a quiet time. That night I did laundry and watched "Clear and Present Danger."
Today I got up at about 10, ate some frosted shredded wheat while packing up my backpack, and headed out for a day in Bethel Park. It started out with a two-mile run with Kayte Bell in preparation for the grand 10K this Sunday. The sun was out, the sky was bright blue, and it was mid 70's - a perfect day to be out and about. I bummed a shower and some lunch off the Piersons, sorta made up for it by helping carry in stuff from Sam's Club, and headed out for a 1pm meeting with Mr. Pierson. It's always fun talking stuff over with MP, and this was no exception. The myriad filaments of Youth Camp 2007 are starting to come together now, and after another meeting or two, I think we'll be pretty good to go.
I had a 8:30pm meeting with Mike Q and Katie Calano, so I had time to kill. I had a very nice quiet time in the empty meeting room and then hit YC stuff in Joel's now-vacated office. Kickin' back in the chair, typing emails, shuffling papers, eating jelly beans, and letting holiness soak into me from fully-stocked bookshelves lining every wall . . . good times :-)
I made a Taco Bell run at 4pm and took a little break at 8. It was nice sitting there by the open window, listening to the T clack by every few minutes, bare feet on the carpet (or propped up on the desk :-) ), working away productively but not stressfully. Mike and Katie arrived on time and we commenced a very enjoyable time of talking through all the plans so far, coming up with ideas, writing stuff down, and laughing a lot. I got a ton of input and new thoughts from them, which I wasn't expecting, and I think they both came away with solid pictures of their jobs and YC as a whole. That was a lot of fun, sitting up there in Joel's office, going over stuff, planning stuff . . sorta like we were adults, I guess :-)
And now I'm home. I made myself a delicious browned parmesan hawaiian egg amalgam for a fourthmeal (I'll sit down and tell you about my amalgams sometime), ate it whilst watching some TV, and now I've written about these days and I'm ready to retire as much on top of this life as it's possible to be right now.
And like Oswald said in one of the pages I read today, when we are lifted up higher in God's things, it's not like a legalistic pinnacle where we cling to one tiny point on the edge of plummeting, but rather we reach a broad table where it is easier to move about. I like that picture of Christian growth.
--Clear Ambassador
Yesterday I got up before 9 and Mom and I went to the Strip District to buy vegetables. We stopped in at a coffee shop on the way to Stan's Produce Market and I found FOUR new flavors of "Oral Fixation" mints - a windfall in the mint collection department! I also got a latte there. It was not the latte of a child. They roast their own beans, and they do it remarkably...thoroughly. It pretty much left the taste of a cigar in my mouth.
We got about $40 of veggies at Stan's, and we were home in plenty of time for Mom to leave for her lunch with Jere. I spent the rest of the day working on "All The Things That You've Done." I finished up the drums first, and I think after that I heated up some soup and casserole for lunch and did some devotions. I picked up "My Utmost For His Highest" on Friday (at lunch during jury duty) and so far it's been cool - challenging my conception of what a Christ-centered life looks like. After the nutritional and spiritual vittles I hit the electric guitar. Other than a break for dinner with Mom, Dad and Jonathan, I basically flipped through the various parts of the song and laid down a bunch of different guitar parts. It was pretty fun sitting there, dialing up whatever tone I wanted to on the GT-6 and enjoying the benefits of my increased electric playing of late, but I have a sinking suspicion that I'll end up deleting everything I did once I get vocals and bass down. That's how you learn stuff - waste a day recording parts in the wrong order, and never make the same mistake again :-
So, Monday was sweet. Up in the morning, veggies with Mom, recording (which is kind of like doing school work - rewarding, but hard to get myself into), and a quiet time. That night I did laundry and watched "Clear and Present Danger."
Today I got up at about 10, ate some frosted shredded wheat while packing up my backpack, and headed out for a day in Bethel Park. It started out with a two-mile run with Kayte Bell in preparation for the grand 10K this Sunday. The sun was out, the sky was bright blue, and it was mid 70's - a perfect day to be out and about. I bummed a shower and some lunch off the Piersons, sorta made up for it by helping carry in stuff from Sam's Club, and headed out for a 1pm meeting with Mr. Pierson. It's always fun talking stuff over with MP, and this was no exception. The myriad filaments of Youth Camp 2007 are starting to come together now, and after another meeting or two, I think we'll be pretty good to go.
I had a 8:30pm meeting with Mike Q and Katie Calano, so I had time to kill. I had a very nice quiet time in the empty meeting room and then hit YC stuff in Joel's now-vacated office. Kickin' back in the chair, typing emails, shuffling papers, eating jelly beans, and letting holiness soak into me from fully-stocked bookshelves lining every wall . . . good times :-)
I made a Taco Bell run at 4pm and took a little break at 8. It was nice sitting there by the open window, listening to the T clack by every few minutes, bare feet on the carpet (or propped up on the desk :-) ), working away productively but not stressfully. Mike and Katie arrived on time and we commenced a very enjoyable time of talking through all the plans so far, coming up with ideas, writing stuff down, and laughing a lot. I got a ton of input and new thoughts from them, which I wasn't expecting, and I think they both came away with solid pictures of their jobs and YC as a whole. That was a lot of fun, sitting up there in Joel's office, going over stuff, planning stuff . . sorta like we were adults, I guess :-)
And now I'm home. I made myself a delicious browned parmesan hawaiian egg amalgam for a fourthmeal (I'll sit down and tell you about my amalgams sometime), ate it whilst watching some TV, and now I've written about these days and I'm ready to retire as much on top of this life as it's possible to be right now.
And like Oswald said in one of the pages I read today, when we are lifted up higher in God's things, it's not like a legalistic pinnacle where we cling to one tiny point on the edge of plummeting, but rather we reach a broad table where it is easier to move about. I like that picture of Christian growth.
--Clear Ambassador
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Trip of Taco Bells
I just got back from a long-awaited Akron trip, and even though it's 2:17am, I'm writing about it. It has been more than a month since I was last briefly in Akron (for an unsatisfactory band practice). I've been to two Switchfoot shows since then, which stirred the natural buildup of rock 'n' roll inside of me into a frenzy that needed to be let out. Y'ARR! So I've been looking forward to this trip, which took advantage of Brian and Stephen's spring break from Akron U. Plus, I was able to stick around Friday and Saturday for Care Group, Fuse I-Team planning meeting, and Kayte and Erin's St. Patty's Day party. It would have been a crying shame to miss that all, 'cause Kayte's SAS friends were really cool.
I drove out Sunday after church and lunch with Shannon's friends in Mt. Lebanon. Mom was in Florida, and Dad was going to a new guy--Bob's--house for lunch. Daniel was shuffled mercilessly back to Grove City since he was surrendering his ride due to the completion of the Sunday evening New Member's class.
The day was beautiful, and I called up different people and talked while I drove in the sunlight and looked at the regular puffs of cumulous clouds spreading off towards the horizon like giant cloud cookies. Brian, Stephen and I had a setup/jam/songwriting session that night, bisected by the grabbing of some Taco Bell for dinner (the first of many). They taught me a classic Pure Boss song, "Emo Coaster," and we worked "Always Late" up into a veritable song after being a sweet but impotent idea for months.
We also spent a lot of time working on guitar tones--something I'd been struck by at the Switchfoot concerts. I brought my Fender75 tube amp for my guitar, and I have been incredibly happy with its tone. YES! Finally that spontaneous $400 purchase is paying off! I'm getting unique, all-tube, 1970's non-modeled guitar tones that rival those of the $1200 Vox AC30 I played at Guitar Center on Monday. (Plus, my spontaneous $400 USA Strat is also paying off, dishing out juicy tones and taking me to string lock dive-bomb heaven).
That night Steve and I killed some JW's and wrote a song about chugging a gallon of milk--Steve's proof that coming up with classic goofy Pure Boss songs isn't a worry.
Monday was the off day--Brian and Alex were occupied, so I was free (and so was Steve in the end, 'cause he decided not to work for Jared). I met Jess, Christin and Justin at Quizno's for lunch, which was my only non-band-related contact of the trip. Steve and I killed some time at home after that, how I don't recall at the moment, and ended up getting some lunch at Taco Bell (Zesty Nachos have my stamp of approval, especially for $0.99) and hitting Guitar Center. That night we hung around with the fam, watched some 24, looked over old baseball/basketball collections, and ended up watching a Frank Peretti movie.
Tuesday was going to be all band all day, but that morning Alex called and said he realized he had voice lessons and work taking him out of comission at 4:30. So, yeah, we had a half day, basically, starting a little after 10am. We went over the songs Alex has learned so far, and then worked on the new ones from the night before. The guitar tones worked pretty well and OH YEAH! We bought a 5000-watt sound system when Lentine's music store shut down! So we had two dual-15"+horn mains (1200W each) and two 600-watt subs cranked up down in the dance room :-) We mic'd the kick drum, and it shook that place! Feedback was a pain, but overall the sound system was incredible.
Practice went well Tuesday, but we all agreed that we wanted more, so Brian, Stephen and I spent a lot of time taking it all down and setting it up at the Chimas. And that brings me to something that's so sweet, it's like from a movie or something, and probably only a small fraction of people ever get to live out such a classic dream. The little "barn" out behind the Chimas' house has a fair-sized upper room, somewhat small, but cozy with 2 little windows, the roof slanting up and in, and a big chunk of thick carpet on the floor. We set our whole rig up there, despite Steve and Brian's initial doubts, and it tucked in like a gymnast doing a triple flip! Sooo sweet dude, you have no idea! Drums nestled back at one end, mains and rack at the other end, guitar amp stacked on bass amp, mics and pedals on the floor, and a low wall of subs with a keyboard on top. The wires are all tucked away nicely, and the wood everywhere sucks up the sound like a million-dollar recording room. The carpet is soft, the wood is warm, the subs pound the entire building with the kick drum, and it is the most unbelievably cool thing ever! Right now we're leaving almost everything set up there, which seems too good to be true--band practice without hours of irksome setup--but we'll see. I'm just happy to have played there today and to be enjoying the happiness of the whole setup. Ahhhhh :-)
Oh yes, and we took a break from practice that afternoon and grabbed some Taco Bell. Good stuff man--it keeps us going.
I've gotten slightly ahead of myself here. Before setting up the sweet sweet practice room in the top of the barn, we spent a long time and a lot of effort trying to set up a pool table on the ground level. A friend was giving the Chimas his old table, but it turned into a bigger deal than planned when the felt was ripped and we had to pull it off. So now there's a large, ungainly and incredibly heavy slate-topped table in the barn, and the Chimas are debating how to get it refelted. I have a feeling it'll be that way for a looong time, but we'll see.
Craig was over to help with that all for awhile, and when it was over and sound setup was over, Alex was back from work and we all got some dinner inside and warmed up. Brian, Stephen and I crashed in the basement that night after watching Dodgeball. I was up late, but hey, when I'm in Akron, it's crash and burn! It is, actually, and it's kind of funny--these days totally removed from my normal life, almost constraintless, just bouncing from one thing to another with no worry about spending time or accomplishing anything other than band stuff.
I digress. Today, which is now yesterday, Steve picked up Alex and we hit the music at about 11 o'clock. The little practice room was sweet beyond belief, and we cooked up some MORE great new songs. Brian played a song for Steve and I a few trips back, which we brought out, and it turned into my favorite of all our new songs. Plus, Brian randomly played the first song he ever wrote, and we ended up turning it into a hard-rocking new song with a surprisingly good melody and some fantastic guitar parts. Like we say sometimes after crashing out the end of a tight rocking song, we're sweet! :-P We've been blessed, I'd say, greatly.
So, yeah--Brian and Alex left around 3:30, Steve and I watched Mean Girls and took down the music stuff we wanted to take back home, and we drifted back to the Hoffmans' around 6pm. I was planning to leave at that time, but I didn't want to cut it all off right then, so I hung around, watched some TV, ate some food, and played mini pool and foosball with Philip. I finally left at 10 o'clock, ready for a relaxing and contemplative night drive home.
I also swung by the top of Pittsburgh instead of going right home once I got back into Pittsburgh, and I ended up spending a long time up there listening to Switchfoot and looking out over the panorama. I'm starting to like "New Way To Be Human" like nothing I've liked since perhaps Legend of Chin. Switchfoot is unique for me in their combination of lyrics about God, creative and skilled music, and genius song writing. They're personal to me like almost no other band is. It's amazing how much enjoyment I've been getting out of them--their music, personalities and shows--and I'm quite grateful to God for His goodness in that. It may hurt sometimes, but it really is a joy, and in Heaven I'll meet the end of all these longings.
Garr it's late. This was a very good Akron trip, and I'm still aglow with the practice room. How crazily blessed we are right now! I'm also aglow with Switchfoot, and I'm wondering how long this will last, and where it will lead. I'm also downered about the car full of stuff to be unloaded, and I'm still not quite realizing that I have a job fair tomorrow.
The bird clock ticks, the refridgerator steadly wooshes, Daisy just snorted and shifted in the chair to my right, all the lights are warm and low except the screen in front of me, and I'm lucid despite my heavy arms and lolling head.
What a life.
--Clear Ambassador
I drove out Sunday after church and lunch with Shannon's friends in Mt. Lebanon. Mom was in Florida, and Dad was going to a new guy--Bob's--house for lunch. Daniel was shuffled mercilessly back to Grove City since he was surrendering his ride due to the completion of the Sunday evening New Member's class.
The day was beautiful, and I called up different people and talked while I drove in the sunlight and looked at the regular puffs of cumulous clouds spreading off towards the horizon like giant cloud cookies. Brian, Stephen and I had a setup/jam/songwriting session that night, bisected by the grabbing of some Taco Bell for dinner (the first of many). They taught me a classic Pure Boss song, "Emo Coaster," and we worked "Always Late" up into a veritable song after being a sweet but impotent idea for months.
We also spent a lot of time working on guitar tones--something I'd been struck by at the Switchfoot concerts. I brought my Fender75 tube amp for my guitar, and I have been incredibly happy with its tone. YES! Finally that spontaneous $400 purchase is paying off! I'm getting unique, all-tube, 1970's non-modeled guitar tones that rival those of the $1200 Vox AC30 I played at Guitar Center on Monday. (Plus, my spontaneous $400 USA Strat is also paying off, dishing out juicy tones and taking me to string lock dive-bomb heaven).
That night Steve and I killed some JW's and wrote a song about chugging a gallon of milk--Steve's proof that coming up with classic goofy Pure Boss songs isn't a worry.
Monday was the off day--Brian and Alex were occupied, so I was free (and so was Steve in the end, 'cause he decided not to work for Jared). I met Jess, Christin and Justin at Quizno's for lunch, which was my only non-band-related contact of the trip. Steve and I killed some time at home after that, how I don't recall at the moment, and ended up getting some lunch at Taco Bell (Zesty Nachos have my stamp of approval, especially for $0.99) and hitting Guitar Center. That night we hung around with the fam, watched some 24, looked over old baseball/basketball collections, and ended up watching a Frank Peretti movie.
Tuesday was going to be all band all day, but that morning Alex called and said he realized he had voice lessons and work taking him out of comission at 4:30. So, yeah, we had a half day, basically, starting a little after 10am. We went over the songs Alex has learned so far, and then worked on the new ones from the night before. The guitar tones worked pretty well and OH YEAH! We bought a 5000-watt sound system when Lentine's music store shut down! So we had two dual-15"+horn mains (1200W each) and two 600-watt subs cranked up down in the dance room :-) We mic'd the kick drum, and it shook that place! Feedback was a pain, but overall the sound system was incredible.
Practice went well Tuesday, but we all agreed that we wanted more, so Brian, Stephen and I spent a lot of time taking it all down and setting it up at the Chimas. And that brings me to something that's so sweet, it's like from a movie or something, and probably only a small fraction of people ever get to live out such a classic dream. The little "barn" out behind the Chimas' house has a fair-sized upper room, somewhat small, but cozy with 2 little windows, the roof slanting up and in, and a big chunk of thick carpet on the floor. We set our whole rig up there, despite Steve and Brian's initial doubts, and it tucked in like a gymnast doing a triple flip! Sooo sweet dude, you have no idea! Drums nestled back at one end, mains and rack at the other end, guitar amp stacked on bass amp, mics and pedals on the floor, and a low wall of subs with a keyboard on top. The wires are all tucked away nicely, and the wood everywhere sucks up the sound like a million-dollar recording room. The carpet is soft, the wood is warm, the subs pound the entire building with the kick drum, and it is the most unbelievably cool thing ever! Right now we're leaving almost everything set up there, which seems too good to be true--band practice without hours of irksome setup--but we'll see. I'm just happy to have played there today and to be enjoying the happiness of the whole setup. Ahhhhh :-)
Oh yes, and we took a break from practice that afternoon and grabbed some Taco Bell. Good stuff man--it keeps us going.
I've gotten slightly ahead of myself here. Before setting up the sweet sweet practice room in the top of the barn, we spent a long time and a lot of effort trying to set up a pool table on the ground level. A friend was giving the Chimas his old table, but it turned into a bigger deal than planned when the felt was ripped and we had to pull it off. So now there's a large, ungainly and incredibly heavy slate-topped table in the barn, and the Chimas are debating how to get it refelted. I have a feeling it'll be that way for a looong time, but we'll see.
Craig was over to help with that all for awhile, and when it was over and sound setup was over, Alex was back from work and we all got some dinner inside and warmed up. Brian, Stephen and I crashed in the basement that night after watching Dodgeball. I was up late, but hey, when I'm in Akron, it's crash and burn! It is, actually, and it's kind of funny--these days totally removed from my normal life, almost constraintless, just bouncing from one thing to another with no worry about spending time or accomplishing anything other than band stuff.
I digress. Today, which is now yesterday, Steve picked up Alex and we hit the music at about 11 o'clock. The little practice room was sweet beyond belief, and we cooked up some MORE great new songs. Brian played a song for Steve and I a few trips back, which we brought out, and it turned into my favorite of all our new songs. Plus, Brian randomly played the first song he ever wrote, and we ended up turning it into a hard-rocking new song with a surprisingly good melody and some fantastic guitar parts. Like we say sometimes after crashing out the end of a tight rocking song, we're sweet! :-P We've been blessed, I'd say, greatly.
So, yeah--Brian and Alex left around 3:30, Steve and I watched Mean Girls and took down the music stuff we wanted to take back home, and we drifted back to the Hoffmans' around 6pm. I was planning to leave at that time, but I didn't want to cut it all off right then, so I hung around, watched some TV, ate some food, and played mini pool and foosball with Philip. I finally left at 10 o'clock, ready for a relaxing and contemplative night drive home.
I also swung by the top of Pittsburgh instead of going right home once I got back into Pittsburgh, and I ended up spending a long time up there listening to Switchfoot and looking out over the panorama. I'm starting to like "New Way To Be Human" like nothing I've liked since perhaps Legend of Chin. Switchfoot is unique for me in their combination of lyrics about God, creative and skilled music, and genius song writing. They're personal to me like almost no other band is. It's amazing how much enjoyment I've been getting out of them--their music, personalities and shows--and I'm quite grateful to God for His goodness in that. It may hurt sometimes, but it really is a joy, and in Heaven I'll meet the end of all these longings.
Garr it's late. This was a very good Akron trip, and I'm still aglow with the practice room. How crazily blessed we are right now! I'm also aglow with Switchfoot, and I'm wondering how long this will last, and where it will lead. I'm also downered about the car full of stuff to be unloaded, and I'm still not quite realizing that I have a job fair tomorrow.
The bird clock ticks, the refridgerator steadly wooshes, Daisy just snorted and shifted in the chair to my right, all the lights are warm and low except the screen in front of me, and I'm lucid despite my heavy arms and lolling head.
What a life.
--Clear Ambassador
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Cool Pictures
I took some time under the hood of our piano tonight taking pictures with Daniel's camera, and I just finished taking a lot more time editing the pics and coming up with captions. Facebook calls this a "public link," so I'm hoping y'all can see the pictures. I'd be quite happy if somebody appreciated them, 'cause I think they're really cool :-) Something about the old feel of the piano, the solidity of its construction, and the magnificence of its span of strings and its repetitive precision.
So, check it out!
http://pitt.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2091894&l=26e4e&id=14224546
Oh, and I was wearing a bow tie and tux shirt from serving at the Exploring Christianity kick-off dinner, so I took some pictures of that, 'cause its spiffy and venerable.
Lemme know what you think! Hope the link works.
--Clear Ambassador
So, check it out!
http://pitt.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2091894&l=26e4e&id=14224546
Oh, and I was wearing a bow tie and tux shirt from serving at the Exploring Christianity kick-off dinner, so I took some pictures of that, 'cause its spiffy and venerable.
Lemme know what you think! Hope the link works.
--Clear Ambassador
In Response to Jason
Here you go, folks! Luke and Leia, in all our costumed glory.
Most of that glory was on Leia's side :-)
We sang a Luke and Leia version of the Brady Bunch theme. The last picture is when we were singing "The Skywalker Bunch, The Skywalker Bunch." Word on the street is that that was the best part. And no Jason, I'm not putting up audio files of our singing so you can hear :-P
Good times.
--Clear Ambassador/Luke Skywalker
Most of that glory was on Leia's side :-)
We sang a Luke and Leia version of the Brady Bunch theme. The last picture is when we were singing "The Skywalker Bunch, The Skywalker Bunch." Word on the street is that that was the best part. And no Jason, I'm not putting up audio files of our singing so you can hear :-P
Good times.
--Clear Ambassador/Luke Skywalker
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Outfits and Music
Today I went through six outfits. The first was what I woke up in - sleepy pants and a T-shirt. Then I hurriedly got dressed and rushed out to get a coconut and a pineapple at Shop 'n' Save and costume materials at the thrift store. That was grey painter pants, "I'm a Pepper" T-shirt and the leather jacket. Then I got home, decided I wouldn't stay at Pitt between my 11am meeting with Career Services and the honors convocation at 1:45, and threw on my new Aero khakis, dark blue button-up shirt with the vertical grey stripes (one of my current favorites), leather jacket, and Pumas. Then I got home, cut up pineapple, and changed into my interview suit. Ahhhhh. Convocation, long and numerous speeches, backwoods way home, and then the "holding pattern" outfit before I put my Luke Skywalker costume together: same khakis, white T and blue long-sleeve T from the Harveys. The Skywalker outfit was lighter khakis, stocking-like wraps around akles and feet, big baggy off-white sweater with the collar and cuffs cut off, and a tunic-ish piece of canvas wrapped around my shoulders and tucked in under a belt. It felt weird and I wasn't thrilled with it, but word on the street is it was pretty sweet :-) And the last outfit is this, which is the same, minus the feet wraps and tunic thingey.
Not many days see me changing that much.
I like putting outfits together, trying to get stuff that I think looks cool or nifty, and trying to get things that look cohesive together. Enjoyable to think about and work on.
Today was the first time I have ever really felt someone enjoying my music. I've heard about people liking it and listening to it at home or singing along, and goodness knows I've played guitar a million times at various gatherings and hang-outings, but today was different. I sat around in the Pierson's living room and played a bunch of old songs from Elvis and Hank Williams and the Beatles from a new songbook with some Q's and Piersons listening and Mitchell keeping up on some bongos. I played one song of my own, which Mr. Pierson liked, but there's nothing like the way people enjoy old favorites like Hey Jude or "The Times They Are A-Changin'." It was a really nice time--flopped around the room, playing, singing, listening, and finding my way through familiar songs guided by my wonderful new songbook (lyricbook, actually). Mr. Pierson really enjoyed it, and said so, and that was very cool. I know I love sitting here on the hearth with a low fire and no lights playing Danny Boy or some old Hank Williams, singing to the silence and abiding in the music, so it was kind of amazing to be able to do that for somebody else. It's a feeling I want to chase.
My mind is in a bit of conflict, though. In the last few months I've grown to love playing those old songs, and when I'm singing it's like I'm singing right from my soul, even if it's a song about being long-gone-lonesome-blue after your lover left you. But they're somebody else's songs, and I have traditionally put far more value and weight on what I myself can produce. So why does it feel so "productive" to sing those songs? Why doesn't it feel like artistic hypocrisy to sink into something somebody else wrote and sing it and feel it like it's my own?
For one thing, regardless of analysis, I think I'm understanding better the value and artistic solidity of singers--something I've traditionally sneered upon. I think there's more than I thought to taking and owning a song and singing it out in a way that affects other people.
For another thing, I know practically it takes a fair amount of time and many listens to grow to truly love a song, even if it's a very good song. So, even if all my songs were as good as Hank Williams, nobody would care until they'd heard them a bunch. It's pragmatically unrealistic to expect people to enjoy and "sink down into" songs I've written which they're hearing for one of the first times. Playing standards connects me to the profound and deep associations that people have with music from their past. There are a couple people on this earth for whom one of my songs might be like that, but other than that, I'm several wide tiers below something like "Heartbreak Hotel."
So... as I keep coming to in regards to music, most of what is lacking in my stuff is out of my control. I can't make people hear and love my songs and develop years of experience with them. So what can I do? I can keep writing songs. What's my one hope of writing a song that has the potential to be loved? To write another song. It might be the one. And it is definitely a step on the way. If you write 100 genuine songs, you've got a good chance of having one or two truly good ones in the bunch.
And lastly, I want to do this more! I want to be able to create that peace and serenity that comes when you sink down into the music that's playing and mouth the words and let the time pass by pleasantly. The power to make someone happy or peaceful, or excited or jolly, is an amazing thing. I think it's what drives comedians and performers and bands and writers and artists of all molds, and I think I've gotten a little taste of it. Would that I could make my living doing such.
Pineapple - $4
Coconut - $3
Thrift Store stuff - $10
36 miles of driving - $3 of gas
Cost of the day's activities: $20
Living is expensive.
--Clear Ambassador
Not many days see me changing that much.
I like putting outfits together, trying to get stuff that I think looks cool or nifty, and trying to get things that look cohesive together. Enjoyable to think about and work on.
Today was the first time I have ever really felt someone enjoying my music. I've heard about people liking it and listening to it at home or singing along, and goodness knows I've played guitar a million times at various gatherings and hang-outings, but today was different. I sat around in the Pierson's living room and played a bunch of old songs from Elvis and Hank Williams and the Beatles from a new songbook with some Q's and Piersons listening and Mitchell keeping up on some bongos. I played one song of my own, which Mr. Pierson liked, but there's nothing like the way people enjoy old favorites like Hey Jude or "The Times They Are A-Changin'." It was a really nice time--flopped around the room, playing, singing, listening, and finding my way through familiar songs guided by my wonderful new songbook (lyricbook, actually). Mr. Pierson really enjoyed it, and said so, and that was very cool. I know I love sitting here on the hearth with a low fire and no lights playing Danny Boy or some old Hank Williams, singing to the silence and abiding in the music, so it was kind of amazing to be able to do that for somebody else. It's a feeling I want to chase.
My mind is in a bit of conflict, though. In the last few months I've grown to love playing those old songs, and when I'm singing it's like I'm singing right from my soul, even if it's a song about being long-gone-lonesome-blue after your lover left you. But they're somebody else's songs, and I have traditionally put far more value and weight on what I myself can produce. So why does it feel so "productive" to sing those songs? Why doesn't it feel like artistic hypocrisy to sink into something somebody else wrote and sing it and feel it like it's my own?
For one thing, regardless of analysis, I think I'm understanding better the value and artistic solidity of singers--something I've traditionally sneered upon. I think there's more than I thought to taking and owning a song and singing it out in a way that affects other people.
For another thing, I know practically it takes a fair amount of time and many listens to grow to truly love a song, even if it's a very good song. So, even if all my songs were as good as Hank Williams, nobody would care until they'd heard them a bunch. It's pragmatically unrealistic to expect people to enjoy and "sink down into" songs I've written which they're hearing for one of the first times. Playing standards connects me to the profound and deep associations that people have with music from their past. There are a couple people on this earth for whom one of my songs might be like that, but other than that, I'm several wide tiers below something like "Heartbreak Hotel."
So... as I keep coming to in regards to music, most of what is lacking in my stuff is out of my control. I can't make people hear and love my songs and develop years of experience with them. So what can I do? I can keep writing songs. What's my one hope of writing a song that has the potential to be loved? To write another song. It might be the one. And it is definitely a step on the way. If you write 100 genuine songs, you've got a good chance of having one or two truly good ones in the bunch.
And lastly, I want to do this more! I want to be able to create that peace and serenity that comes when you sink down into the music that's playing and mouth the words and let the time pass by pleasantly. The power to make someone happy or peaceful, or excited or jolly, is an amazing thing. I think it's what drives comedians and performers and bands and writers and artists of all molds, and I think I've gotten a little taste of it. Would that I could make my living doing such.
Pineapple - $4
Coconut - $3
Thrift Store stuff - $10
36 miles of driving - $3 of gas
Cost of the day's activities: $20
Living is expensive.
--Clear Ambassador
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Categorically Pleased
For those who don't use Facebook, here's word of a new song I wrote in response to the sentiments expressed about the Cabin Fever Festival. I came up with it Monday night and recorded a simple playing-singing demo at about 3am. I think the writing was blessed by God, 'cause the song's in about 6 different keys, and it's quite free from the verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus confines of most of my writing. The key thing is especially amazing. I have lamented countless times my seemingly inescapable bondage to I-IV-V chords, and stared longingly through the window at stuff like Beatles songs that effortlessly move from G to Bb to F# and back again. Now I find myself possessor of such a song, and it's sweet!
I'm also happy with it because it's a happy, peppy song, as opposed to the soft sensitive fare I usually spit out. The words do a good job expressing how I felt Sunday night--enough specifics ("My boring heart has been overcome," "I got to see what your plans had become") to give substance to the feelings, but not so much that it becomes cheesy or unrelatable. Oh, and the whole song was written and recorded on the little baby guitar I bought at the rummage sale last month :-)
So, yeah: I'm categorically delighted with this song! The link is below. There are a few botched chords and one extended "yeah" during a page turn, but it captures the song quite well. Enjoy!
All the Things that You've Done
And also, I've updated about 12 of the songs on my website with better mixes. In particular, Brother, On My Side, End of the Day, Slips Away and Traveling Far Into the Night are much improved. There's still plenty of work to do, but they're better.
--Clear Ambassador
I'm also happy with it because it's a happy, peppy song, as opposed to the soft sensitive fare I usually spit out. The words do a good job expressing how I felt Sunday night--enough specifics ("My boring heart has been overcome," "I got to see what your plans had become") to give substance to the feelings, but not so much that it becomes cheesy or unrelatable. Oh, and the whole song was written and recorded on the little baby guitar I bought at the rummage sale last month :-)
So, yeah: I'm categorically delighted with this song! The link is below. There are a few botched chords and one extended "yeah" during a page turn, but it captures the song quite well. Enjoy!
All the Things that You've Done
And also, I've updated about 12 of the songs on my website with better mixes. In particular, Brother, On My Side, End of the Day, Slips Away and Traveling Far Into the Night are much improved. There's still plenty of work to do, but they're better.
--Clear Ambassador
Monday, February 19, 2007
For Future Self
Today Mom woke me up out of a sound sleep at 1:15. I popped up, disconcerted that I had slept away so much of the day. I guess Sunday was more tiring than I had realized. I jumped up, grabbed my cell phone (whose alarm I had apparently somnolently shut off), ran upstairs and sat in the sunshine in the living room to figure out what to do with the day and week. My trusty sheet of 8.5 x 11 paper was soon covered. It's amazing how much there is to do when you aren't doing anything.
I got all my starred items done. Yay.
I laboriously drank a bottle of coconut soda. Not soon to be repeated.
There's a costume party Friday. Yay! What should I dress as?
I HATE MY RECORDINGS AND MY VOCALS!!! I can't even express my disgust after listening to my second complete recording of "When You Were In Love." I feel helpless at the feet of my garbage voice. No matter how much I feel what I'm singing, it comes out shaky, weak and off-pitch. It's kicking me in the face right now. How can it be so easy sometimes, and so gratingly hard other times?
Last Friday I experienced the marvelous art of dentistry. I went in to get a little pothole cavity filled, but the real work was in cleaning out and bonding two depressions in my next-to-front upper teeth (which probably came from braces). He also bonded the tooth I chipped playing basketball years ago. It's amazing--I looked in a mirror right after he finished, and couldn't even tell where he'd been working. And it's so nice having a tip to that tooth again! I keep feeling it's wonderful smoothness with my tongue :-) So, yay for dentists. Covering and replacing stuff like that is basically sculpting, with a flat-edged thingey instead of a chisel, and in a mouth instead of a studio.
We've made several major changes to the house in the past month. The first was getting a new kitchen table (at last!). No more dark formica four-leg in the light oak kitchen. Now we have an exactly-matching light oak trestle table with sweet sweet chairs. We got rid of the big cheap computer/file desk and now the flat screen is on Mom's old white school desk, which takes up less than half the room, leaving the area gloriously open. The chairs have vertical "bars" on the back, and they look so cool around the table! Evokes a feeling similar to that of seeing yuccas or wild oats in landscaping (both of which I really like).
THEN, we got a couch in the basement! We took out the big honkin' school table, put the weight bench next to the elliptical, put Dad's desk where Mom's used to be, and put the couch against the east wall. This leaves the space in front of the treadmill open (until we put the old computer desk there. BOOOO) and a wonderful wide strip of floor between the weight bench and the drumset. Which I was able to move out and over a few inches and re-set-up. It's lovely now--all compact, big and glistening. The couch is so sweet, and there's such an open feel, I just love being down there. Ahh, it makes me happy every time I look around.
I think that does it. I still need to read some Psalms and pray. Thus endeth a random and poorly-written slice of life. This is definitely a for-future-self post :-)
--Clear Ambassador
I got all my starred items done. Yay.
I laboriously drank a bottle of coconut soda. Not soon to be repeated.
There's a costume party Friday. Yay! What should I dress as?
I HATE MY RECORDINGS AND MY VOCALS!!! I can't even express my disgust after listening to my second complete recording of "When You Were In Love." I feel helpless at the feet of my garbage voice. No matter how much I feel what I'm singing, it comes out shaky, weak and off-pitch. It's kicking me in the face right now. How can it be so easy sometimes, and so gratingly hard other times?
Last Friday I experienced the marvelous art of dentistry. I went in to get a little pothole cavity filled, but the real work was in cleaning out and bonding two depressions in my next-to-front upper teeth (which probably came from braces). He also bonded the tooth I chipped playing basketball years ago. It's amazing--I looked in a mirror right after he finished, and couldn't even tell where he'd been working. And it's so nice having a tip to that tooth again! I keep feeling it's wonderful smoothness with my tongue :-) So, yay for dentists. Covering and replacing stuff like that is basically sculpting, with a flat-edged thingey instead of a chisel, and in a mouth instead of a studio.
We've made several major changes to the house in the past month. The first was getting a new kitchen table (at last!). No more dark formica four-leg in the light oak kitchen. Now we have an exactly-matching light oak trestle table with sweet sweet chairs. We got rid of the big cheap computer/file desk and now the flat screen is on Mom's old white school desk, which takes up less than half the room, leaving the area gloriously open. The chairs have vertical "bars" on the back, and they look so cool around the table! Evokes a feeling similar to that of seeing yuccas or wild oats in landscaping (both of which I really like).
THEN, we got a couch in the basement! We took out the big honkin' school table, put the weight bench next to the elliptical, put Dad's desk where Mom's used to be, and put the couch against the east wall. This leaves the space in front of the treadmill open (until we put the old computer desk there. BOOOO) and a wonderful wide strip of floor between the weight bench and the drumset. Which I was able to move out and over a few inches and re-set-up. It's lovely now--all compact, big and glistening. The couch is so sweet, and there's such an open feel, I just love being down there. Ahh, it makes me happy every time I look around.
I think that does it. I still need to read some Psalms and pray. Thus endeth a random and poorly-written slice of life. This is definitely a for-future-self post :-)
--Clear Ambassador
Cabin Fever Festival
John just finished eating his left arm, and is consequently full of himself.
I thought of that a few days ago, but had nowhere to put it since Facebook statuses must be worded in the third-person present tense. Now it serves as a clever attention-grabbing intro to what I was going to start this post with:
I am full.
But not full of myself, as would normally be the case. I'm full of God. It happened over the course of about 90 minutes. I didn't go out with all the YPCG'ers (Youth Parent Care Groupers) and Akron kids Saturday handing out hot chocolate or going door-to-door giving out "Cabin fever survival packets." I didn't skip care group for the prayer and worship time Friday night that kicked off their "mission trip" here to serve our church. I watched Hitch with Daniel and Justin Saturday after setup at the Middle School, so I didn't get to hear the debrief from the day's outreach. I was 100% occupied with the music during the whole festival Sunday after church, and I didn't even sit with any of the kids from Akron Saturday night or tonight at Cici's. So I was feeling quite removed and outside the whole event. I didn't even go hang at the Pierson's after teardown this afternoon! I drove Daniel back home, unloaded the van-full of heavy music equipment, and flopped heavily into this chair to check some email, wondering why I was thinking of driving 45 minutes to Bridgeville to pay $5 for more pizza and more outsidefeelingness. But I went, thinking I was being a stubborn fool as I slipped and slid across the snow-caked roads in the brittle cold.
The pizza was good; I got to listen to Mr. Pierson and Bob talk about high-level stuff, and the Dr.Pepper was fine (though the ice was still lousy). During the debrief back at the presbyterian church I slowly began to see the sea of faces light up into hearts alive to God. Bob kept at the kids, finally whittling it down to calling out single words to describe the day, how they felt, what they saw in God, and what of God they wanted to take back home. He was fantastic at leading and prodding the group, and the picture began to fade in on the polaroid film in my head. Semi-sullen teen faces I'd seen swirling cotton candy out of a shivering machine or setting up pop bottle bowling pins in the IMS cafeteria were now talking about God--a God they had just seen and felt in action. Bob was ebullient at seemly every word the kids said. My cynical conclusions slowly began to change as I saw his genuine excitement and began to think about what was actually being said, and what it meant. Then we adjourned as churches to different rooms to write names down on our white stones (little reminders of eternity, based on the white stone God will give us at the end of this world with our own name on it). Mr. Pierson did it by having our group toss out "names" (and attending explanations) for each person in turn. Danielle wrote them all down, and we determined one for Katie to write on the stone (with her fine Calano handwriting and a fine fine-tipped Sharpie).
We started with Mr. Pierson, he picked me next, and then we proceeded around the circle, each turn lifting a veil off of a "kid" and showing the amazing and alive work of God underneath. Ah, how stupid am I to have such a veil in the first place! People like Mr. Pierson and Shannon see such good in others! But regardless, there were so many great traits and touching explanations brought up by every body in that room that I left packed full and overflowing with the work of God in this group of kids. To see how different acts affected people in peculiar ways, and how such acts and behaviors were internalized by others . . . it left me laughing at my penchant for feeling that things can't work without me :-) There's something behind this group and it's driving from below and inside, pushing out leadership and friendliness and kindness from shy, quiet, selfish 14-year-olds. I want to go to every YPCG meeting from now on! I want to keep seeing that work going on, so opposite my highly intelligent unbelief.
I want to remember how I feel right now. I want to remember that experience of singing worship songs when we readjourned -- not singing "Great is the Lord" because it was up on the screen, but because I was flat-out amazed at the ridiculous and impossible things He had just done! Maybe, maybe this is a touch of the taste of God that I've been crying out for. I just thought of that. It wasn't an inescapable burning of my soul in the solutide of the night, but it was real, and it surpassed the inveterate plains of this pedestrian life that have left me faithless and lifeless in so many ways.
It was great! I'm so glad I went! I want more of God! I want to see more of His working, and I want to see what He has around the next bend in the road.
I've waxed rather grandiose in language here, but there really was a fire of amazement when we left that room in the big ol' Westminster Presbyterian Church in Upper Saint Claire. I pretty much just grabbed Wes Taylor by the shoulders and vented my excitement at what God was doing in the group :-) It's exciting, and I'm just filled with love for Mr. Pierson, for the guys in the youth group, and I guess for the God who breathes sparkling life into all of these people.
It was also really cool tonight when we got home. I hung around and talked to the 3 guys who are staying here (Plus an adult, Marty, who went to bed shortly after catching up on ESPN :-) ), who had a lot of questions and comments about music and my gear. Once again, these bland teenagers came to life before me. It hurts to say it so forthrightly, but that's how evil and cynical my heart is. We talked about instruments, they wanted to go see my studio downstairs, and we carried on a great conversation over the plentiful snacks laid out on the counter. It was also remarkable because I think subtly I had their respect, since I'd been up jamming with Justin and Daniel all afternoon, hashing out sweet stuff (speaking objectively here) on electric guitar in front of a bunch of impressive amps and gear. It's so rare that I feel anything but coming-from-behind with [what I consider] my peers that it leaves a strong mark on my memory. It's not a particularly useful, accurate or Kingdom-advancing thing, but it was noteworthy. And revelatory: A) They're not bland teenagers. B) I actually am a bit older than highschoolers.
Last thing: One other aspect of amazement from the meeting. What do you think my name was? What do you think this self-absorbed, ghastly-judgmental, distracted, music-obsessed cynic was described as?
"Worshipper"
Two years ago (I think.. roughly) I stepped off the worship team because all I was doing was playing my instrument.
I MEAN LOOK AT IT!! Apparently even that stepping off had an effect on some people because of its supposed humility. Hah! Man, how God works to advance His will through the very sin-soaked actions of his foolish, belligerent people! How two years of deep sin and dryness can be to some a testimony of humility and worship! How we are CLOTHED with righteousness and REDEEMED from destruction and WASHED from sin and FORGIVEN of pride and COVERED with the shining radiance of God's very Son!
How great is our God.
--Clear Ambassador
I thought of that a few days ago, but had nowhere to put it since Facebook statuses must be worded in the third-person present tense. Now it serves as a clever attention-grabbing intro to what I was going to start this post with:
I am full.
But not full of myself, as would normally be the case. I'm full of God. It happened over the course of about 90 minutes. I didn't go out with all the YPCG'ers (Youth Parent Care Groupers) and Akron kids Saturday handing out hot chocolate or going door-to-door giving out "Cabin fever survival packets." I didn't skip care group for the prayer and worship time Friday night that kicked off their "mission trip" here to serve our church. I watched Hitch with Daniel and Justin Saturday after setup at the Middle School, so I didn't get to hear the debrief from the day's outreach. I was 100% occupied with the music during the whole festival Sunday after church, and I didn't even sit with any of the kids from Akron Saturday night or tonight at Cici's. So I was feeling quite removed and outside the whole event. I didn't even go hang at the Pierson's after teardown this afternoon! I drove Daniel back home, unloaded the van-full of heavy music equipment, and flopped heavily into this chair to check some email, wondering why I was thinking of driving 45 minutes to Bridgeville to pay $5 for more pizza and more outsidefeelingness. But I went, thinking I was being a stubborn fool as I slipped and slid across the snow-caked roads in the brittle cold.
The pizza was good; I got to listen to Mr. Pierson and Bob talk about high-level stuff, and the Dr.Pepper was fine (though the ice was still lousy). During the debrief back at the presbyterian church I slowly began to see the sea of faces light up into hearts alive to God. Bob kept at the kids, finally whittling it down to calling out single words to describe the day, how they felt, what they saw in God, and what of God they wanted to take back home. He was fantastic at leading and prodding the group, and the picture began to fade in on the polaroid film in my head. Semi-sullen teen faces I'd seen swirling cotton candy out of a shivering machine or setting up pop bottle bowling pins in the IMS cafeteria were now talking about God--a God they had just seen and felt in action. Bob was ebullient at seemly every word the kids said. My cynical conclusions slowly began to change as I saw his genuine excitement and began to think about what was actually being said, and what it meant. Then we adjourned as churches to different rooms to write names down on our white stones (little reminders of eternity, based on the white stone God will give us at the end of this world with our own name on it). Mr. Pierson did it by having our group toss out "names" (and attending explanations) for each person in turn. Danielle wrote them all down, and we determined one for Katie to write on the stone (with her fine Calano handwriting and a fine fine-tipped Sharpie).
We started with Mr. Pierson, he picked me next, and then we proceeded around the circle, each turn lifting a veil off of a "kid" and showing the amazing and alive work of God underneath. Ah, how stupid am I to have such a veil in the first place! People like Mr. Pierson and Shannon see such good in others! But regardless, there were so many great traits and touching explanations brought up by every body in that room that I left packed full and overflowing with the work of God in this group of kids. To see how different acts affected people in peculiar ways, and how such acts and behaviors were internalized by others . . . it left me laughing at my penchant for feeling that things can't work without me :-) There's something behind this group and it's driving from below and inside, pushing out leadership and friendliness and kindness from shy, quiet, selfish 14-year-olds. I want to go to every YPCG meeting from now on! I want to keep seeing that work going on, so opposite my highly intelligent unbelief.
I want to remember how I feel right now. I want to remember that experience of singing worship songs when we readjourned -- not singing "Great is the Lord" because it was up on the screen, but because I was flat-out amazed at the ridiculous and impossible things He had just done! Maybe, maybe this is a touch of the taste of God that I've been crying out for. I just thought of that. It wasn't an inescapable burning of my soul in the solutide of the night, but it was real, and it surpassed the inveterate plains of this pedestrian life that have left me faithless and lifeless in so many ways.
It was great! I'm so glad I went! I want more of God! I want to see more of His working, and I want to see what He has around the next bend in the road.
I've waxed rather grandiose in language here, but there really was a fire of amazement when we left that room in the big ol' Westminster Presbyterian Church in Upper Saint Claire. I pretty much just grabbed Wes Taylor by the shoulders and vented my excitement at what God was doing in the group :-) It's exciting, and I'm just filled with love for Mr. Pierson, for the guys in the youth group, and I guess for the God who breathes sparkling life into all of these people.
It was also really cool tonight when we got home. I hung around and talked to the 3 guys who are staying here (Plus an adult, Marty, who went to bed shortly after catching up on ESPN :-) ), who had a lot of questions and comments about music and my gear. Once again, these bland teenagers came to life before me. It hurts to say it so forthrightly, but that's how evil and cynical my heart is. We talked about instruments, they wanted to go see my studio downstairs, and we carried on a great conversation over the plentiful snacks laid out on the counter. It was also remarkable because I think subtly I had their respect, since I'd been up jamming with Justin and Daniel all afternoon, hashing out sweet stuff (speaking objectively here) on electric guitar in front of a bunch of impressive amps and gear. It's so rare that I feel anything but coming-from-behind with [what I consider] my peers that it leaves a strong mark on my memory. It's not a particularly useful, accurate or Kingdom-advancing thing, but it was noteworthy. And revelatory: A) They're not bland teenagers. B) I actually am a bit older than highschoolers.
Last thing: One other aspect of amazement from the meeting. What do you think my name was? What do you think this self-absorbed, ghastly-judgmental, distracted, music-obsessed cynic was described as?
"Worshipper"
Two years ago (I think.. roughly) I stepped off the worship team because all I was doing was playing my instrument.
I MEAN LOOK AT IT!! Apparently even that stepping off had an effect on some people because of its supposed humility. Hah! Man, how God works to advance His will through the very sin-soaked actions of his foolish, belligerent people! How two years of deep sin and dryness can be to some a testimony of humility and worship! How we are CLOTHED with righteousness and REDEEMED from destruction and WASHED from sin and FORGIVEN of pride and COVERED with the shining radiance of God's very Son!
How great is our God.
--Clear Ambassador
Saturday, February 10, 2007
"Life" Magazine
Wow people. I just lost 36 minutes of work prying through my heart and mind writing about what's been going on these last months. As the mouse froze and turned to an hourglass I prayed before God and spoke to myself the smallness of 36 minutes of my time and the goodness of God, but it still hurts inside. Down an inch below my solar plexus, right where it twists like a burning knot when I get angry. It feels wrong to let that go. Anger is a mystery, but when that little knot twists and burns, it destroys all knowledge, thought, feeling and desire before its cry to express itself. The more you let it out, though, the bigger it gets and the more has to come out. It's a strange thing, and totally mysterious to some people, like Daniel. Thankfully he'll rarely if ever have to know the pain of shutting that up and letting it go before God. The pain of admitting that you're small and have no legitimate claim upon such self righteousness and wrath. The pain of letting that burning knot smoulder away like a missed opportunity. I think in some ways that's the crux of humility. Right in that moment admitting, in an enormously practical way, that you're not important. I'm guessing that other people come to that crux in different, but equally as agonizing, ways. In fact I'm sure, 'cause otherwise I would have a genuine claim on some self pity.
So. There's a paragraph I didn't plan to write! Now you know what it's like to be an angry person. It sucks. Don't try it.
Life right now is ridiculously great. I have no job, no school of any kind, a big comfy roof over my head, expensive, healthy and tasty food in the kitchen, a killer car, and a couple thousand bucks to pay for the car and any trifling amenities I may choose to buy to suit my passing fancy. I know this is an unrealistic and fleeting period, so I am trying to enjoy it (not hard) and utilize it (not easy) as much as possible. Basically, if I don't get things done now, when I have ALL the time in the world (literally. Every one of the day's 24 hours is mine), then I really am a complete fool and screwed for life.
So, I made lists on blank sheets of white paper (the only way I operate), starred important items, and crossed 'em off, one by one, day after day. I got a lot of annoying stupid simple little things done like scheduling a dentist appointment. That seriously took me 4 months to do, people. I'm an idiot. New wiper blades and battery for Pepsi Blue (ohhh, how it cranks that cold engine! Ahhhh); calls made, emails sent, room cleaned... there were some solid weeks. I went to Akron twice in January and once so far in February. It felt nice to be on top of things. I've even been reading the Bible - 5 Psalms a day and I'm keeping up. I'm speaking in past tense 'cause right now I feel like I'm careening again. But whatever. I'm not giving up, and there isn't a good way to talk more on that without digressing. Reading the Bible has been good. It paid off more quickly than I thought. Getting some real truth input is satisfying and restful in a kind of deep way, and I've even desired a few times to read the Bible over stuff like TV or Facebook. I think it's like working out - a hard habit to form that will always be easy to slip out of and builds in time to where you wish it could be right away. So I'm sticking with it, and praying what I prayed at the Men's Retreat: that I wouldn't be alone in this battle. Christ is what I seek and what I need, and what I've never really had. I think praying tooth and nail is the only thing that's going to keep this time from being just another spritual bump in the road of failure. It seems crazy that my life could genuinely change, and I could actually read the Bible and live under God from now on, but for crying out loud, it's got to happen some time, doesn't it?? Life is screwy dude.
Anyway, trips to Akron. I went once right after the New Year, and Justin, Daniel, Heather, Mike and Shannon came too. We took two cars, and everybody else was self-sufficient. I did mostly band stuff, practicing and working out new songs with Brian and Steve-O, while the others hung with the Tuminos or Murphys or Smiths and entertained themselves quite nicely. That was kind of a strange feeling, but it was very nice and restful to not have them be my responsibility. Band stuff went sweet, and we've got some great new songs (City Lights Behind Me, Dog Show, my new one). Then I went back a couple weeks later for a full weekend to try out a possible NEW DRUMMER!
Yes indeed, after speculatin' and ruminatin' about getting a fourth person in the band for years, we realized that Alex Morgan plays drums really well (He won a drum set at last year's Akron drum festival), he's a really nice guy, and he just might fit. We practiced with him that Saturday, and it went brilliantly. We worked out another new song, he had a blast, and it just seemed to work. So we talked about it Sunday down in the Chima's sweet basement, and decided that, barring a couple questions (which he answered himself pretty much), he was in. It was cool, but sobering for me because, well... it's never going to be just me, Brian and Stephen down in the basement again. And it's going to take a LOT of work to get Alex up to speed. I figure it'll take us basically a year before we're in full concert form again (which has taken the three of us 2 years to achieve). It's a lot of work for me, in particular, 'cause my drumming isn't your typical modern emo style, and it's going to take a lot of patient input and steeling myself to musical nonidealities to get things settled. But it's worth it to be up front playing guitar and rocking out :-) Ohh, it's AMAZING! Just glorious to be playing guitar, jumping and running around as I feel inclined, singing like a normal person, and getting into that sweet zone when things are clicking on the guitar and you play good stuff well.
I came up again this past Monday and Tuesday and practice this time was pretty hard. We got bogged down in "Just in Time," we got tired ('cause we ate no food), and things just didn't sound too great. But that's the band. Good times, bad times, and freakin' awesome times. So far Alex has gotten the bad and the freakin' awesome :-) And by the way, we discussed it a bit down in the basement, and I don't think God's calling us to sell out and haul butt with the band, so it'll be staying just a nice hobby and fun thing for friends. Unless God has a record deal out there. And then I'm gone like diddy-kong :-D
Akron is cool. Steve is a great friend. Philip is fun and funny. The Hoffman's mini pool table is GREAT :-) It's fun to watch people grow up and mature, to get to know folks better, to talk with the adults at church, to drive across Milton Lake on the way down, to have Philip laugh at my stupid jokes, to let the day unfurl unencumbered, and to sit down in the basement and hash out new music with Steve-O. We did that a ton last time I was up, and it was great. Just sitting around for hours passing the guitar between us, blurting out ideas, shutting up and listening to creativity outside of yourself, singing lyrics off the top of your head that form a perfect song, abiding with the music, and having a song grow as you let it settle down into your consciousness. We have a new song that's just me on acoustic and Steve on violin, and it's killer! I love that we keep writing songs, and they seem to be getting better and staying creative. I doubt we'll ever get that raw, simple directness of "Hypothesis," but our stuff will sound a lot better and be much more presentable.
On to the job.
When one has spent four years working hard to get a degree in chemical engineering, one should probably start making 60 grand a year off of it. Especially when one was just shy of a 4.0, and when one wants to get married as soon as God wills. However, I am currently at a standstill, face to face with the curse on mankind, that we will till the earth by the sweat of our brows. Quite truly, work sucks. It's hard! Engineering jobs are really hard! You know how much effort and involvment it takes to remodel a room or buy a new car? That's what we do all day every day, just with stuff that's more complicated. Forty years of that is a bit daunting.
But more than that, I'm facing forty years of never getting everything done that needs to be done. I've seen it with Dad, and I've lived it myself during busy semesters: Life in middle class America contains 2 to 3 times more things to do than time to do them. It's not a cliche or "busyness," it's an endless, tumbling, careening stream of undone, unfinished, and unmet mess. You get the paycheck, you pay the bills, you help with Exploring Christianity 'cause they need people, you go out with your wife Friday night, and the basement walls remain dirty and unfinished, the busted garage door opener sits next to the van, you never replied to that email, and the piles of paper sit like shifty towers in the living room mocking you. You go to bed at night vaguely uneasy at everything in limbo around you, and the next day is gone before you had time to floss, which you really want to start doing! [OK, this paragraph is legions better the second time through. It sucked to lose my previous work, but I knew even then that it has its benefits.]
Sometimes I think I've just missed something and I'm out of place here and I should leave everything and live a dirty simple life in Fiji or Russia. But I think this is just a point in life where I am pausing and I have to make a definitive and conscious decision to dive back in. I'm still bugged by the feeling that all of this is just wrong and we should be able to take care of everything and have a peaceful bottom to life, but, looking over what I just wrote, I think what Dad says is right (this keeps happening! The man is like a wisdom Gobstopper): It's about priorities. In my little scenario above, you make money, you keep the house and food going with the bills, and you invest in your church and marraige. All of those are fundamentally important, while the dirty walls and piles.. aren't. I'm not quite sure what to do with the feelings that keep nagging me, but I think a crazy over-taxed life that leaves behind godly children, a strengthened church, encouraged friends, and a radiant, loved wife is not wrongly lived. I just wish that that could all be done withOUT the craziness and trainwreck.
If God calls me to something different than the path walked by my father before me and his father before him, I am ready and willing. As far as I can know my heart, I am willing to pull up everything and go anywhere, leaving anything behind (friends, home, studio, 4000 songs, car...), if I know it's God's will. And that's where I'm at right now. There are a dozen things I could go do, but I don't know which is the right path to throw myself into. I've been doing a sucky job at pretty much everything, but that's 'cause I never go whole hog into any one thing. I'm splintered up between 4 instruments, 2 cities, 2 albums, engineering, church, family, and peace. I believe that, to some degree, God needs to show me where to go. Dad reminded me that God's after my heart (yieldedness), and He rarely just unveils all his plans to you and lets you run off, but I do think I need some degree of calling and certainty. My job hunting is half-hearted right now 'cause I'm not confident that I should step into a long-term job. I could pursue travel, perhaps some short-term work to fund such travel, perhaps finishing my album, but none of those can happen without dedication and effort, which I can't give them because I don't know if I should. So, I'm praying, and I just know that God will lead me step by step, even if I'm completely blindfolded and all I know is that there's ground under my foot at the moment.
OK, dude, this is all so WEIRD! Think about it! Here I am talking about life, thinking about all these scenarios in my head like they were little computer games or movies. It's my freaking life! It's not a game! It's not hypothetical! It's not something I can just try out or play with! Everybody out there is living their lives, and I'm sitting here like I'm writing a novel. It feels crazy and utterly unreal right now that God could (and pretty much has to) show me what to do, that I could actually go carry out one of these possibilities. I'm irritated that I'm taking this all so lightly. I feel like a kid who doesn't know what he has and thinks the million dollar china plate is a frisbee. But I'm stuck with what I've got, and, once again, I think there's a great well of power in tooth-and-nails prayer. So I'm going to ask God to show me what to do, in whatever timeframe He knows is best. I'm going to seek a job, a career, a calling, and a wife. And I'm going to knock knock knock on Heaven's door until I can taste and see that the Lord is good.
Right now it's all glossy pages of "Life" magazine.
--Clear Ambassador
P.S. Ladies, be glad you're women! Be glad there are men out there who will toil under the curse all of their days and die worn out, tired and frazzled for God and for you.
P.P.S. A cheery and inane story of something that made me very happy: I always love it when I find out that something I said was really funny. Apparently I made a comment during our first practice with Alex that was one of the funniest things he'd ever heard. We were talking about the tradeoffs of recording in my studio versus Mike's, which is analog (meaning sound is recorded directly onto magnetic tape, never chopped up and digitized and stuck into a computer). Mine is vastly easier to use, but Mike's analog rig gets 100% pro sound quality. So Steve said maybe we could record everything on my studio, mix it down, dump it to a halftrack tape reel, and "turn up the analog" on it. I rolled in my seat laughing, and tried to explain through gasping breaths why that was perhaps the most ignorant comment Steve had ever made. Eventually I reached for an analogy and said"it was like saying "Hey, I want to make this bill, so let's get it into a commitee and **turn up the legislative process**." :-)
So. There's a paragraph I didn't plan to write! Now you know what it's like to be an angry person. It sucks. Don't try it.
Life right now is ridiculously great. I have no job, no school of any kind, a big comfy roof over my head, expensive, healthy and tasty food in the kitchen, a killer car, and a couple thousand bucks to pay for the car and any trifling amenities I may choose to buy to suit my passing fancy. I know this is an unrealistic and fleeting period, so I am trying to enjoy it (not hard) and utilize it (not easy) as much as possible. Basically, if I don't get things done now, when I have ALL the time in the world (literally. Every one of the day's 24 hours is mine), then I really am a complete fool and screwed for life.
So, I made lists on blank sheets of white paper (the only way I operate), starred important items, and crossed 'em off, one by one, day after day. I got a lot of annoying stupid simple little things done like scheduling a dentist appointment. That seriously took me 4 months to do, people. I'm an idiot. New wiper blades and battery for Pepsi Blue (ohhh, how it cranks that cold engine! Ahhhh); calls made, emails sent, room cleaned... there were some solid weeks. I went to Akron twice in January and once so far in February. It felt nice to be on top of things. I've even been reading the Bible - 5 Psalms a day and I'm keeping up. I'm speaking in past tense 'cause right now I feel like I'm careening again. But whatever. I'm not giving up, and there isn't a good way to talk more on that without digressing. Reading the Bible has been good. It paid off more quickly than I thought. Getting some real truth input is satisfying and restful in a kind of deep way, and I've even desired a few times to read the Bible over stuff like TV or Facebook. I think it's like working out - a hard habit to form that will always be easy to slip out of and builds in time to where you wish it could be right away. So I'm sticking with it, and praying what I prayed at the Men's Retreat: that I wouldn't be alone in this battle. Christ is what I seek and what I need, and what I've never really had. I think praying tooth and nail is the only thing that's going to keep this time from being just another spritual bump in the road of failure. It seems crazy that my life could genuinely change, and I could actually read the Bible and live under God from now on, but for crying out loud, it's got to happen some time, doesn't it?? Life is screwy dude.
Anyway, trips to Akron. I went once right after the New Year, and Justin, Daniel, Heather, Mike and Shannon came too. We took two cars, and everybody else was self-sufficient. I did mostly band stuff, practicing and working out new songs with Brian and Steve-O, while the others hung with the Tuminos or Murphys or Smiths and entertained themselves quite nicely. That was kind of a strange feeling, but it was very nice and restful to not have them be my responsibility. Band stuff went sweet, and we've got some great new songs (City Lights Behind Me, Dog Show, my new one). Then I went back a couple weeks later for a full weekend to try out a possible NEW DRUMMER!
Yes indeed, after speculatin' and ruminatin' about getting a fourth person in the band for years, we realized that Alex Morgan plays drums really well (He won a drum set at last year's Akron drum festival), he's a really nice guy, and he just might fit. We practiced with him that Saturday, and it went brilliantly. We worked out another new song, he had a blast, and it just seemed to work. So we talked about it Sunday down in the Chima's sweet basement, and decided that, barring a couple questions (which he answered himself pretty much), he was in. It was cool, but sobering for me because, well... it's never going to be just me, Brian and Stephen down in the basement again. And it's going to take a LOT of work to get Alex up to speed. I figure it'll take us basically a year before we're in full concert form again (which has taken the three of us 2 years to achieve). It's a lot of work for me, in particular, 'cause my drumming isn't your typical modern emo style, and it's going to take a lot of patient input and steeling myself to musical nonidealities to get things settled. But it's worth it to be up front playing guitar and rocking out :-) Ohh, it's AMAZING! Just glorious to be playing guitar, jumping and running around as I feel inclined, singing like a normal person, and getting into that sweet zone when things are clicking on the guitar and you play good stuff well.
I came up again this past Monday and Tuesday and practice this time was pretty hard. We got bogged down in "Just in Time," we got tired ('cause we ate no food), and things just didn't sound too great. But that's the band. Good times, bad times, and freakin' awesome times. So far Alex has gotten the bad and the freakin' awesome :-) And by the way, we discussed it a bit down in the basement, and I don't think God's calling us to sell out and haul butt with the band, so it'll be staying just a nice hobby and fun thing for friends. Unless God has a record deal out there. And then I'm gone like diddy-kong :-D
Akron is cool. Steve is a great friend. Philip is fun and funny. The Hoffman's mini pool table is GREAT :-) It's fun to watch people grow up and mature, to get to know folks better, to talk with the adults at church, to drive across Milton Lake on the way down, to have Philip laugh at my stupid jokes, to let the day unfurl unencumbered, and to sit down in the basement and hash out new music with Steve-O. We did that a ton last time I was up, and it was great. Just sitting around for hours passing the guitar between us, blurting out ideas, shutting up and listening to creativity outside of yourself, singing lyrics off the top of your head that form a perfect song, abiding with the music, and having a song grow as you let it settle down into your consciousness. We have a new song that's just me on acoustic and Steve on violin, and it's killer! I love that we keep writing songs, and they seem to be getting better and staying creative. I doubt we'll ever get that raw, simple directness of "Hypothesis," but our stuff will sound a lot better and be much more presentable.
On to the job.
When one has spent four years working hard to get a degree in chemical engineering, one should probably start making 60 grand a year off of it. Especially when one was just shy of a 4.0, and when one wants to get married as soon as God wills. However, I am currently at a standstill, face to face with the curse on mankind, that we will till the earth by the sweat of our brows. Quite truly, work sucks. It's hard! Engineering jobs are really hard! You know how much effort and involvment it takes to remodel a room or buy a new car? That's what we do all day every day, just with stuff that's more complicated. Forty years of that is a bit daunting.
But more than that, I'm facing forty years of never getting everything done that needs to be done. I've seen it with Dad, and I've lived it myself during busy semesters: Life in middle class America contains 2 to 3 times more things to do than time to do them. It's not a cliche or "busyness," it's an endless, tumbling, careening stream of undone, unfinished, and unmet mess. You get the paycheck, you pay the bills, you help with Exploring Christianity 'cause they need people, you go out with your wife Friday night, and the basement walls remain dirty and unfinished, the busted garage door opener sits next to the van, you never replied to that email, and the piles of paper sit like shifty towers in the living room mocking you. You go to bed at night vaguely uneasy at everything in limbo around you, and the next day is gone before you had time to floss, which you really want to start doing! [OK, this paragraph is legions better the second time through. It sucked to lose my previous work, but I knew even then that it has its benefits.]
Sometimes I think I've just missed something and I'm out of place here and I should leave everything and live a dirty simple life in Fiji or Russia. But I think this is just a point in life where I am pausing and I have to make a definitive and conscious decision to dive back in. I'm still bugged by the feeling that all of this is just wrong and we should be able to take care of everything and have a peaceful bottom to life, but, looking over what I just wrote, I think what Dad says is right (this keeps happening! The man is like a wisdom Gobstopper): It's about priorities. In my little scenario above, you make money, you keep the house and food going with the bills, and you invest in your church and marraige. All of those are fundamentally important, while the dirty walls and piles.. aren't. I'm not quite sure what to do with the feelings that keep nagging me, but I think a crazy over-taxed life that leaves behind godly children, a strengthened church, encouraged friends, and a radiant, loved wife is not wrongly lived. I just wish that that could all be done withOUT the craziness and trainwreck.
If God calls me to something different than the path walked by my father before me and his father before him, I am ready and willing. As far as I can know my heart, I am willing to pull up everything and go anywhere, leaving anything behind (friends, home, studio, 4000 songs, car...), if I know it's God's will. And that's where I'm at right now. There are a dozen things I could go do, but I don't know which is the right path to throw myself into. I've been doing a sucky job at pretty much everything, but that's 'cause I never go whole hog into any one thing. I'm splintered up between 4 instruments, 2 cities, 2 albums, engineering, church, family, and peace. I believe that, to some degree, God needs to show me where to go. Dad reminded me that God's after my heart (yieldedness), and He rarely just unveils all his plans to you and lets you run off, but I do think I need some degree of calling and certainty. My job hunting is half-hearted right now 'cause I'm not confident that I should step into a long-term job. I could pursue travel, perhaps some short-term work to fund such travel, perhaps finishing my album, but none of those can happen without dedication and effort, which I can't give them because I don't know if I should. So, I'm praying, and I just know that God will lead me step by step, even if I'm completely blindfolded and all I know is that there's ground under my foot at the moment.
OK, dude, this is all so WEIRD! Think about it! Here I am talking about life, thinking about all these scenarios in my head like they were little computer games or movies. It's my freaking life! It's not a game! It's not hypothetical! It's not something I can just try out or play with! Everybody out there is living their lives, and I'm sitting here like I'm writing a novel. It feels crazy and utterly unreal right now that God could (and pretty much has to) show me what to do, that I could actually go carry out one of these possibilities. I'm irritated that I'm taking this all so lightly. I feel like a kid who doesn't know what he has and thinks the million dollar china plate is a frisbee. But I'm stuck with what I've got, and, once again, I think there's a great well of power in tooth-and-nails prayer. So I'm going to ask God to show me what to do, in whatever timeframe He knows is best. I'm going to seek a job, a career, a calling, and a wife. And I'm going to knock knock knock on Heaven's door until I can taste and see that the Lord is good.
Right now it's all glossy pages of "Life" magazine.
--Clear Ambassador
P.S. Ladies, be glad you're women! Be glad there are men out there who will toil under the curse all of their days and die worn out, tired and frazzled for God and for you.
P.P.S. A cheery and inane story of something that made me very happy: I always love it when I find out that something I said was really funny. Apparently I made a comment during our first practice with Alex that was one of the funniest things he'd ever heard. We were talking about the tradeoffs of recording in my studio versus Mike's, which is analog (meaning sound is recorded directly onto magnetic tape, never chopped up and digitized and stuck into a computer). Mine is vastly easier to use, but Mike's analog rig gets 100% pro sound quality. So Steve said maybe we could record everything on my studio, mix it down, dump it to a halftrack tape reel, and "turn up the analog" on it. I rolled in my seat laughing, and tried to explain through gasping breaths why that was perhaps the most ignorant comment Steve had ever made. Eventually I reached for an analogy and said"it was like saying "Hey, I want to make this bill, so let's get it into a commitee and **turn up the legislative process**." :-)
Monday, January 22, 2007
Christmas 2006
Christmas 2006
How should I remember it?
Unfortunately, I didn't write about the holiday soon after it happened, so I've forgotten many specifics, like what I did on the 23rd or 27th. But I can give an overview now of what sticks in my mind before even general details dissolve in the tears of passing years (poetic, but dumb :-P).
Firstly, and most vastly importantly, everybody was here!. After a shredded yet not entirely unpleasant Christmas last year, Grandma Kari, Grandpa Ken, Uncle Keith, and Ken descended upon Mom, Dad, Daniel, Daisy and me. After thinking we had probably had the last normal Christmas ever, we had another :-) It really didn't matter much what else we did, just waking up in the morning and knowing everybody was around was enough.
I came into the holiday rocking and rolling from the categorically most intense academic period of my life. Two pillar classes on the line and a grade to rescue and excellence to demonstrate in process control. Half of my evenings were surrendered to the computer lab, as well as most of my days, and Sunday the 10th Charlie and I pulled an all-nighter, going from 3pm to 9am. After clawing through the process control final and finishing up the design report, I turned my thoughts to NOVA, which I had deserted for the past three weeks. I went to Akron Thursday for the Christmas dance show, and spent Tuesday through Thursday at NOVA. Monday I went with Mike, Justin, Hezz and Shannon (and Matt?) to pick up Daniel at Grove City. It was well worth $120 of pay to hang with them all and pick up Danmybro. We toodled around the campus, got lunch at Taco Bell (Except Hezz, who hit up the mysterious Subway [i.e. Sheetz] for her xenophobic meal), hit the thrift store (Can you say "turquose jacket with black-trimmed lapels?") and rocked tunes there and back.
On Tuesday I spent all day preparing my resume and coverletter for submission in regards to a full-time position in NOVA's technology department. There was a posting for an EPS Polymer Scientist/Engineer which my boss Tom had alerted me to. It's looking for a MS or PhD, but not much experience, so I have a shot. It would be a scarily-challenging yet amazing job - responsible for developing new EPS products and improving existing ones. Then I spent Wednesday and Thursday finishing up my various projects, particularly writing the work instruction for doing Painesville and Belpre's SARA 312 Tier II monthly and annual inventory reports. I left Thursday with one last day on the docket, January 2nd, before my nearly three-year tenure with NOVA (temporarily?) ended. I'm still waiting to hear if approval has been given for me to return part-time to do computer guru work with C++, Access and other lovely things (how ironic, eh?).
I got things a bit mixed up in my mind earlier, and before this week everybody had arrived on Friday. Ken got in from somewhere in New England after his trip to Spain (such an awesome-sounding trip!), Grandma and Grandpa (and Dally) drove in from Lansing, and Uncle Keith rolled in in his new motor home. Yes, our crazy Uncle has now bought himself a 30-foot Class A RV :-) He parked it in the dead-end street, and once he finished putting an antenna adapter in we watched some TV out there and Daniel and I spent the night in it's spacious luxury. SO cool! So yeah - those three days I was working, everybody was at home and the Christmas holiday was rolling along. Although my time spent at NOVA was not unpleasant, it was kind of a downer the couple times I let myself realize that I was missing everything at home. But so it goes. With a future career in the works, it was worth the sacrifice. And hah, how self-focused is this blog post! Oy. Other people in my family may read this and marvel at how callously I pass over things they did (if I mention them at all), which were central points of their time. But my ignorance limits what I can honestly write about, so I talk about myself and stay in this narrow perspective. Hopefully in 10 years I'll be much better at opening myself up to others' worlds (marraige will probably help that :-P).
The counter had Grandma's chocolate cookies, truffles, Hershey's Kisses, Fannie May candies, Mom's oatmeal cookes, pistachios, and other unremembered goodies occupying it's toaster-oven/napkin holder flank. The other end was, as always, full of in-use stuff. Less Daniel's and my pocket stuff, which was dutifully tucked away in our sanctioned Glad container in the pantry. I realized over the holiday that my copious affection for pop was not developed in a vaccuum--we drank through twelve-packs of Dr.Pepper and Diet Pepsi like pros, as well as Black Cherry Vanilla Coke (The taste of the shed, as Daniel called it) and IBC root beer and cream soda. While we're on snacks.. one point that came up in my mind a lot was my decreased appetite for such goodies. Pop was often a laboriously sweet blah, most cookies were unattractive... in short, I didn't eat nearly as much of these delights as I wished or would have in the past. I'm not sure if that came from dulling thoughtless overindulgence, or if it indicates a taming of the youthful passion of the past. In any case, it was mildly disconcerting, and I lost 3 pounds over the holidays.
I was home for Christmas Eve and Christmas day. Every year Mom gets Christmas Eve as HER time, in the midst of all the football and swirling activity. This year she planned a Norwegian Christmas (actually planned for last year, but... yeah, that didn't work out). We gathered for her program, which involved some Norwegian Christmas songs, some readings, some group gifts, annnnnd, Ken - the Yule Nissa! Heheh. Ken was appointed to be the Norwegian version of Santa Claus, and carried it out with his usual dissenting aplomb. He made it fun. The glug wasn't so good, but the ginger almond cookies kept on tasting better than I expected over break. Mom did a fine job bringing us another forced yet fun and memorable evening. Ahh, our family:-)
Lessee.. Daniel and I slept down in the basement since I had been banished from the family room couch after graduating. One year a good while ago we slept down there on cots and it sucked. Cold, bad sleep, and we had colds as well. This year, probably because we're hearty and sturdy young men by now, it was fine, even right on the floor with a cot pad and some blankets. I never moved in officially, so my clothes were a disaster, but whatev, right? (gag)
We spent most of Christmas day opening presents. Daniel and I slept in till 10:30 I think, and Ken, as the Yule Nissa, dispensed the gifts. We open then one-by-one, enjoying each one with its opener. We broke for lunch sometime after noon and then reconvened to finish with the sub-tree population. Uncle Keith got tons of stuff for the new RV, which Grandma named Samson (Sam is the name of the old pop-up UK has). Daniel got a "Pandora's Box," a compact bass/guitar effects unit. Ken got dough, I think. All the adults exchanged many gifts, which I think is cool, being as it is a sign of how intertwined their lives are, and what genuinely good friends they are. I got a pair of Shure ES300 earphones--as valuable as my iPod. They're so precise they sound lousy at first (no exaggerated bass), but I'm appreciating them more and more each time I listen to them. It's analogous to the clarity and rich detail you get with a thousand-dollar lens vs. the Canon snapshot digital cams we all use. Perfect clarity. AAHHHHHH :-) Oh sound - how wonderful you are!
The day after Christmas was primarily spent, for all of us but Grandma, Grandpa and the dogs, driving to a Laurel Highlands resort for UK's present of an off-road driving experience in a Hummer. Yes, UK's main gift was the experience of driving an H2 over some real off-road terrain. We drove out there in the van and everybody but Mom (oh Lord how she would have hated it!) rode along in the wide heavy Hummer. He went through a little training course under the direction of our guide, and then we drove over to an extensive set of trails running through the PA woods within the resort. UK drove for more than an hour through the mud, logs, rocks, puddles and hills, grinding through under the direction of our guide. It was interesting for me.. most of what we did didn't seem that extreme, but any normal car would have bottomed out or spun out in a second. It showed me dramatically how cushy all of our cars are. We are crazily dependent on our nice paved roads, folks. Even back in the extra seat far in the back, I could feel the commanding weight of the massive Hummer. It planted itself on the ground like somebody was holding it down, and ground over rocks and up hills like a giant was pushing us from behind. Pretty cool. I kept wishing we could ditch the guide guy and head off into the woods, no holds barred. Definitely what I would think :-P
Lessee... now I suffer the loss from not writing this out earlier. The rest of the days between Christmas and New Years are kind of a blur. I didn't have work, so I was around. We watched football and other sports games as the default activity, which unifies us in the family room/kitchen area, under the glow of the Christmas lighs and surrounded with copious laptops. Daniel and I worked away on 24 season two every night, getting wired and stressed-out right before bed :-P The good snacks eventually got eaten, and more 12-packs of Dr.Pepper had to be purchased. UK worked on the motor home a lot, I think Dad had a project or two (he usually does, being the great man that he is), Mom worked away in the home (what an insanely gracious and giving lady!), Daisy sought food like an automaton, and Dally got in the way of everybody better than a congressional committee. I had a couple nice long talks with Grandpa about chemical engineering and got to hear about what he did in his career, which was quite interesting.
Daniel and I had the new challenge of balancing family time with friend time, since we had a whole group of folks who were back for Christmas break and not normally around. I think that balancing act went well--I feel like we had a complete time with home folks, and I also feel well caught-up with "the senior crowd" as I call them, though they're actually freshman now. Funny how most of my friends are four years younger than me, discounting about 7 church friends. I guess I associate with those who are roughly as young as I feel and act :-)
For New Year's Eve I declined the several invitations I had and chilled with the fam, eating a nice dinner, watching football (of course) and playing Scatergories (oh, what a battle :-P). When it got close to the turn of the year I proposed the idea that we ring in the new year without a TV on (*gasp!*). Struck by a burst of creativity reminiscent of childhood, I grabbed Daniel and headed downstairs with about 15 minutes to put together our celebration. So we rang in 2007 with an atomic clock countdown from UK's laptop, a toilet paper roll dropping down a yardstick (the ball dropping. Get it?), shredded colored paper confetti, a crashing Zildjan 8-inch spash cymbal, and seltzer water, which refused to spray about like I wanted. Daniel and I chugged the seltzer water, the dogs barked and Daisy chased her tail, everbody laughed, and I was pretty happy. Over the course of the holiday I was affected by the reality of God's grace to me personally, demonstrated by these wonderful people around me who treat me far better than I remotely deserve. I struggle with believing God's existence sometimes without an undeniable personal experience of His reality, but I realized clearly and poignantly that these people around me ARE real, and there's no way in heaven or hell they could ever be as tirelessly kind and caring to me as they are without God's grace being what the Bible says it is. I may not have it all working right now, but they do, and they're right in front of me, as real as my calloused fingertips and lousy knees. So, that was nice. It was nice to have Grandma and Grandpa there, and words could never describe the enveloping warmth and happyness of having having all those special people around, here to stay for a good long time, hanging around and making every little thing funny and special.
OK, before I wrap it up with more touching sentimental, spiritual and intellectual invtroversion... the weather was FREAKY! Fifties and pleasant on average, with only a few days of clouds and rain. It was like Florida or something. Pleasant and appreciated, but occasionally recognized as the freak show that it was. In fact, I think it was New Year's day that Daniel and I went to TJ Highschool for a frisbee game with TJ and church folks--it was about 70 degrees, sunny, and just stop-drop-and-roll gorgeous. We PChOPers killed the TJ folks in ultimate frisbee, and then we lolled around and took pictures (I bet we looked wierd :-P) while the TJers and Nick played football (bleah!). It was lovely running about in shorts and T-shirts, and made for a pleasant and slightly odd Christmastime. I'm dreamin' of a bright Christmas? :-)
That's about it, I think. I left early Tuesday morning, the 2nd, for work, and that day Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Keith left. Ken hung around for a couple more weeks till he headed to Bolivia last Saturday, and of course Mom and Dad remained, forming the backbone of this amazing, sturdy life-backbone I call home. God knows where I'll be for next Christmas, who will still be alive, and who might be new to the family (a girl or two? Hmmmm :-) ). I'll probably have a full-time job locking me down, and goodness knows where Ken will be and how Grandma and Grandpa will be doing.
Looking back, I'm just grateful that God gave us this Christmas all together, like old times. Having tasting the possibility of loss, I (and we all, I think) savored every hour together, in the glow of peace, health and home. The world could fall apart, and I would feel complete with our family. Another year of wondrous prosperity and kindness, another time of walking around a bustling house lit by Christmas lights and alive with humor, another piece of ineffable peace and golden happiness. What unmerited goodness, that I should be included in this family, in this country, in this time, with this freedom, security and luxury. I tremble to think that it's true, in the global historic perspective, but I'm so grateful it has been so, and I'll carry the memories for the rest of my life. Hah - I sound pretty Christmas-sappy, but it's the way it is, call it what you like.
That's it folks! Yay, I've written this! Now to write about the Texas trip, in which I am currently living :-) Later gator.
--Clear Ambassador
How should I remember it?
Unfortunately, I didn't write about the holiday soon after it happened, so I've forgotten many specifics, like what I did on the 23rd or 27th. But I can give an overview now of what sticks in my mind before even general details dissolve in the tears of passing years (poetic, but dumb :-P).
Firstly, and most vastly importantly, everybody was here!. After a shredded yet not entirely unpleasant Christmas last year, Grandma Kari, Grandpa Ken, Uncle Keith, and Ken descended upon Mom, Dad, Daniel, Daisy and me. After thinking we had probably had the last normal Christmas ever, we had another :-) It really didn't matter much what else we did, just waking up in the morning and knowing everybody was around was enough.
I came into the holiday rocking and rolling from the categorically most intense academic period of my life. Two pillar classes on the line and a grade to rescue and excellence to demonstrate in process control. Half of my evenings were surrendered to the computer lab, as well as most of my days, and Sunday the 10th Charlie and I pulled an all-nighter, going from 3pm to 9am. After clawing through the process control final and finishing up the design report, I turned my thoughts to NOVA, which I had deserted for the past three weeks. I went to Akron Thursday for the Christmas dance show, and spent Tuesday through Thursday at NOVA. Monday I went with Mike, Justin, Hezz and Shannon (and Matt?) to pick up Daniel at Grove City. It was well worth $120 of pay to hang with them all and pick up Danmybro. We toodled around the campus, got lunch at Taco Bell (Except Hezz, who hit up the mysterious Subway [i.e. Sheetz] for her xenophobic meal), hit the thrift store (Can you say "turquose jacket with black-trimmed lapels?") and rocked tunes there and back.
On Tuesday I spent all day preparing my resume and coverletter for submission in regards to a full-time position in NOVA's technology department. There was a posting for an EPS Polymer Scientist/Engineer which my boss Tom had alerted me to. It's looking for a MS or PhD, but not much experience, so I have a shot. It would be a scarily-challenging yet amazing job - responsible for developing new EPS products and improving existing ones. Then I spent Wednesday and Thursday finishing up my various projects, particularly writing the work instruction for doing Painesville and Belpre's SARA 312 Tier II monthly and annual inventory reports. I left Thursday with one last day on the docket, January 2nd, before my nearly three-year tenure with NOVA (temporarily?) ended. I'm still waiting to hear if approval has been given for me to return part-time to do computer guru work with C++, Access and other lovely things (how ironic, eh?).
I got things a bit mixed up in my mind earlier, and before this week everybody had arrived on Friday. Ken got in from somewhere in New England after his trip to Spain (such an awesome-sounding trip!), Grandma and Grandpa (and Dally) drove in from Lansing, and Uncle Keith rolled in in his new motor home. Yes, our crazy Uncle has now bought himself a 30-foot Class A RV :-) He parked it in the dead-end street, and once he finished putting an antenna adapter in we watched some TV out there and Daniel and I spent the night in it's spacious luxury. SO cool! So yeah - those three days I was working, everybody was at home and the Christmas holiday was rolling along. Although my time spent at NOVA was not unpleasant, it was kind of a downer the couple times I let myself realize that I was missing everything at home. But so it goes. With a future career in the works, it was worth the sacrifice. And hah, how self-focused is this blog post! Oy. Other people in my family may read this and marvel at how callously I pass over things they did (if I mention them at all), which were central points of their time. But my ignorance limits what I can honestly write about, so I talk about myself and stay in this narrow perspective. Hopefully in 10 years I'll be much better at opening myself up to others' worlds (marraige will probably help that :-P).
The counter had Grandma's chocolate cookies, truffles, Hershey's Kisses, Fannie May candies, Mom's oatmeal cookes, pistachios, and other unremembered goodies occupying it's toaster-oven/napkin holder flank. The other end was, as always, full of in-use stuff. Less Daniel's and my pocket stuff, which was dutifully tucked away in our sanctioned Glad container in the pantry. I realized over the holiday that my copious affection for pop was not developed in a vaccuum--we drank through twelve-packs of Dr.Pepper and Diet Pepsi like pros, as well as Black Cherry Vanilla Coke (The taste of the shed, as Daniel called it) and IBC root beer and cream soda. While we're on snacks.. one point that came up in my mind a lot was my decreased appetite for such goodies. Pop was often a laboriously sweet blah, most cookies were unattractive... in short, I didn't eat nearly as much of these delights as I wished or would have in the past. I'm not sure if that came from dulling thoughtless overindulgence, or if it indicates a taming of the youthful passion of the past. In any case, it was mildly disconcerting, and I lost 3 pounds over the holidays.
I was home for Christmas Eve and Christmas day. Every year Mom gets Christmas Eve as HER time, in the midst of all the football and swirling activity. This year she planned a Norwegian Christmas (actually planned for last year, but... yeah, that didn't work out). We gathered for her program, which involved some Norwegian Christmas songs, some readings, some group gifts, annnnnd, Ken - the Yule Nissa! Heheh. Ken was appointed to be the Norwegian version of Santa Claus, and carried it out with his usual dissenting aplomb. He made it fun. The glug wasn't so good, but the ginger almond cookies kept on tasting better than I expected over break. Mom did a fine job bringing us another forced yet fun and memorable evening. Ahh, our family:-)
Lessee.. Daniel and I slept down in the basement since I had been banished from the family room couch after graduating. One year a good while ago we slept down there on cots and it sucked. Cold, bad sleep, and we had colds as well. This year, probably because we're hearty and sturdy young men by now, it was fine, even right on the floor with a cot pad and some blankets. I never moved in officially, so my clothes were a disaster, but whatev, right? (gag)
We spent most of Christmas day opening presents. Daniel and I slept in till 10:30 I think, and Ken, as the Yule Nissa, dispensed the gifts. We open then one-by-one, enjoying each one with its opener. We broke for lunch sometime after noon and then reconvened to finish with the sub-tree population. Uncle Keith got tons of stuff for the new RV, which Grandma named Samson (Sam is the name of the old pop-up UK has). Daniel got a "Pandora's Box," a compact bass/guitar effects unit. Ken got dough, I think. All the adults exchanged many gifts, which I think is cool, being as it is a sign of how intertwined their lives are, and what genuinely good friends they are. I got a pair of Shure ES300 earphones--as valuable as my iPod. They're so precise they sound lousy at first (no exaggerated bass), but I'm appreciating them more and more each time I listen to them. It's analogous to the clarity and rich detail you get with a thousand-dollar lens vs. the Canon snapshot digital cams we all use. Perfect clarity. AAHHHHHH :-) Oh sound - how wonderful you are!
The day after Christmas was primarily spent, for all of us but Grandma, Grandpa and the dogs, driving to a Laurel Highlands resort for UK's present of an off-road driving experience in a Hummer. Yes, UK's main gift was the experience of driving an H2 over some real off-road terrain. We drove out there in the van and everybody but Mom (oh Lord how she would have hated it!) rode along in the wide heavy Hummer. He went through a little training course under the direction of our guide, and then we drove over to an extensive set of trails running through the PA woods within the resort. UK drove for more than an hour through the mud, logs, rocks, puddles and hills, grinding through under the direction of our guide. It was interesting for me.. most of what we did didn't seem that extreme, but any normal car would have bottomed out or spun out in a second. It showed me dramatically how cushy all of our cars are. We are crazily dependent on our nice paved roads, folks. Even back in the extra seat far in the back, I could feel the commanding weight of the massive Hummer. It planted itself on the ground like somebody was holding it down, and ground over rocks and up hills like a giant was pushing us from behind. Pretty cool. I kept wishing we could ditch the guide guy and head off into the woods, no holds barred. Definitely what I would think :-P
Lessee... now I suffer the loss from not writing this out earlier. The rest of the days between Christmas and New Years are kind of a blur. I didn't have work, so I was around. We watched football and other sports games as the default activity, which unifies us in the family room/kitchen area, under the glow of the Christmas lighs and surrounded with copious laptops. Daniel and I worked away on 24 season two every night, getting wired and stressed-out right before bed :-P The good snacks eventually got eaten, and more 12-packs of Dr.Pepper had to be purchased. UK worked on the motor home a lot, I think Dad had a project or two (he usually does, being the great man that he is), Mom worked away in the home (what an insanely gracious and giving lady!), Daisy sought food like an automaton, and Dally got in the way of everybody better than a congressional committee. I had a couple nice long talks with Grandpa about chemical engineering and got to hear about what he did in his career, which was quite interesting.
Daniel and I had the new challenge of balancing family time with friend time, since we had a whole group of folks who were back for Christmas break and not normally around. I think that balancing act went well--I feel like we had a complete time with home folks, and I also feel well caught-up with "the senior crowd" as I call them, though they're actually freshman now. Funny how most of my friends are four years younger than me, discounting about 7 church friends. I guess I associate with those who are roughly as young as I feel and act :-)
For New Year's Eve I declined the several invitations I had and chilled with the fam, eating a nice dinner, watching football (of course) and playing Scatergories (oh, what a battle :-P). When it got close to the turn of the year I proposed the idea that we ring in the new year without a TV on (*gasp!*). Struck by a burst of creativity reminiscent of childhood, I grabbed Daniel and headed downstairs with about 15 minutes to put together our celebration. So we rang in 2007 with an atomic clock countdown from UK's laptop, a toilet paper roll dropping down a yardstick (the ball dropping. Get it?), shredded colored paper confetti, a crashing Zildjan 8-inch spash cymbal, and seltzer water, which refused to spray about like I wanted. Daniel and I chugged the seltzer water, the dogs barked and Daisy chased her tail, everbody laughed, and I was pretty happy. Over the course of the holiday I was affected by the reality of God's grace to me personally, demonstrated by these wonderful people around me who treat me far better than I remotely deserve. I struggle with believing God's existence sometimes without an undeniable personal experience of His reality, but I realized clearly and poignantly that these people around me ARE real, and there's no way in heaven or hell they could ever be as tirelessly kind and caring to me as they are without God's grace being what the Bible says it is. I may not have it all working right now, but they do, and they're right in front of me, as real as my calloused fingertips and lousy knees. So, that was nice. It was nice to have Grandma and Grandpa there, and words could never describe the enveloping warmth and happyness of having having all those special people around, here to stay for a good long time, hanging around and making every little thing funny and special.
OK, before I wrap it up with more touching sentimental, spiritual and intellectual invtroversion... the weather was FREAKY! Fifties and pleasant on average, with only a few days of clouds and rain. It was like Florida or something. Pleasant and appreciated, but occasionally recognized as the freak show that it was. In fact, I think it was New Year's day that Daniel and I went to TJ Highschool for a frisbee game with TJ and church folks--it was about 70 degrees, sunny, and just stop-drop-and-roll gorgeous. We PChOPers killed the TJ folks in ultimate frisbee, and then we lolled around and took pictures (I bet we looked wierd :-P) while the TJers and Nick played football (bleah!). It was lovely running about in shorts and T-shirts, and made for a pleasant and slightly odd Christmastime. I'm dreamin' of a bright Christmas? :-)
That's about it, I think. I left early Tuesday morning, the 2nd, for work, and that day Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Keith left. Ken hung around for a couple more weeks till he headed to Bolivia last Saturday, and of course Mom and Dad remained, forming the backbone of this amazing, sturdy life-backbone I call home. God knows where I'll be for next Christmas, who will still be alive, and who might be new to the family (a girl or two? Hmmmm :-) ). I'll probably have a full-time job locking me down, and goodness knows where Ken will be and how Grandma and Grandpa will be doing.
Looking back, I'm just grateful that God gave us this Christmas all together, like old times. Having tasting the possibility of loss, I (and we all, I think) savored every hour together, in the glow of peace, health and home. The world could fall apart, and I would feel complete with our family. Another year of wondrous prosperity and kindness, another time of walking around a bustling house lit by Christmas lights and alive with humor, another piece of ineffable peace and golden happiness. What unmerited goodness, that I should be included in this family, in this country, in this time, with this freedom, security and luxury. I tremble to think that it's true, in the global historic perspective, but I'm so grateful it has been so, and I'll carry the memories for the rest of my life. Hah - I sound pretty Christmas-sappy, but it's the way it is, call it what you like.
That's it folks! Yay, I've written this! Now to write about the Texas trip, in which I am currently living :-) Later gator.
--Clear Ambassador
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