this is really just a quick story that has no deep meaning...except that you truett and ubc folks might find it humorous.
in my time at truett, and going to ubc, i know that i have been in multiple conversations about how the david crowder band has an unexplainably huge following of people (esp. youth) from asian decent -- this has just been an observation of many people.
well, this weekend (friday night & sunday morning) mark was speaking at a taiwanese church in the bay area and invited me to come with him. the first night we got there early to meet with the people who brought mark in, and to just get a feel for the church community. as our hosts were walking us around the church for a tour we walked into the kitchen where about six of the youth were making a cake for their pastor (it was his birthday). we were standing on the opposite side of the room from the youth when our host said, "hey kids, this is our speaker for the night mark scandrette..." before she could finish her sentence one of the youth looked at me in my green zipped up track jacket, jeans, full (red) beard, glasses, and newsboy cap and said, "hey you in the middle...you look like david crowder man." now i have gotten matthew lillard, james van der beek, and even matthew mcconaughey...but david crowder, that is a new one, and a stretch. i'm don't even have black hair.
so i just laughed and said, "well the next time i see him i'll tell him you think i look like him." all the student's heads looked up with a curious look and one asked, "you know david crowder?" so i said, "well kinda, he is the worship leader at my church." you would have thought i had said jesus was standing outside the door...they all stopped what they were doing and came around to meet me. i was not that interesting of a person until i said i knew david crowder (thanks dave...you give me instant cred.). one girl held her mouth open for like a whole minute...she was in shock. then another student went into this sermonic like rant about how david crowder band was amazing and the best band ever. so the theory of the band having a huge following of youth from asian decent is proving to be true in california. even if the ones i talk to apparently don't really know what he looks like.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
to borrow from mr. brueggemann -- "finally comes the poet"
My transition to San Francisco is going wonderfully. My first week here I had to pinch myself and remind myself that I was living in San Francisco. Today (and the past couple of days) I’ve walked out and felt like I was apart of the city. Like it was starting to open up to me and tell me the story it is meant to share with me and why it brought me to its residence.
I’ve also been getting used to my weekly activities, and so have my legs. My legs have had to get used to walking everywhere…although it has been wonderful to be in a place where the weather is agreeable enough to walk. There is so much to share, but I wanted to write something down before it left the freshness of memory.
Last night Adam, Amy and I went over to the Cal-Berkley area to meet Steve, a friend of Adam’s. We were meeting there to watch one of Adam’s favorite performing arts – it’s one that he has even taken part at other venues on other nights. But, tonight he was not performing...we were at this venue to investigate and check out the caliber of the entertainers
We had arrived to enjoy a motivating and humorous night of “poetry slam”. This location in Berkley was rumored to be one of the best poetry slams in the area – so much so that the event happened every week. In San Francisco the major venue for having poetry slam only host once a month – but in Berkley a good showing of almost 75 people piled into the room to hear the eloquence of the poets.
Now I have been to poetry slams before. I remember one at a local coffee house in Waco one night, which really wasn’t that bad. I mean, I’m not about to say that Texas doesn’t have poets as good – Austin, after all, hosted the national poetry slam competition last week. However, what I will say is that the poets from the night in Waco do not stick in my mind as well as last night’s bards.
The night’s inaugural speakers were not bad, they were a good start. (I say this in comparison to the night’s later performers, not because I could do better, or that I am an expert in this art – because I’m defiantly not, and admire their boldness to share their creations publicly) If you have never been to a poetry slam be cautioned that there is no censoring, so if you don’t like crude subjects and foul language I suggest that you try to see the beauty in the art (or just bypass the experience altogether, which would be regretable). The topics varied from political statements, personal confessions, rants about nothing, lamentations about lost love, and sexual exploits. And sometimes all these subjects at once.
There is such a beauty to this type of speech – a rhythmic pentameter and wit that moves the listeners, whether they like or agree with the statements. If there is one thing that can be said about these prophets it’s that they are raw and authentic with their discourse. There is no guessing what they are thinking or feeling – it is in their verse, in their tone, in their delivery, and in their body – their art is apart of who they are, and the spectators get to enjoy the outpouring.
In many of the poems there were rumblings and hints of revolution – a feeling that something was on the threshold, and these poets wanted to be the voices that helped start the movement. And maybe they will. Sitting listening to these 2-3 minute poems moved my inner being more than some sermons have. I was not alone.
After the poems were finished, and the night concluded we all went to chat. On our drive Steve was sharing how he was interning at a church in Oakland, and how he had just returned that day from a retreat with his pastor. This particular retreat was a gathering of many pastors and church leaders from major churches in northern California, Oregon and Washington. Steve talked about how much of conference bored him. He stated that there wasn’t a sermon he didn’t fall asleep in. He was talking about how it seemed that most of the leaders there just did not get the upcoming culture or the reality of postmodernism.
All of what Steve said I was listening to, but one statement struck me. In a moment of frustration he said, “I just spent four days on retreat with the leading pastors in the Northwest…I’m suppose to be inspired after something like that right? But none of them moved me as much as these poets did tonight – I’m ready to start the revolution after that.”
Why is it that true revolutionaries are rarely noted for what they are, or why is it that prophets are never really listened to. It’s no suprise that these prophets reside on the margins – speaking to an audience who long for something greater than what they’ve been made to settle for. It seems to have been this way for a long time though – the prophets speak, and the voice is not heard.
When we were in India Dr. Stroope would refrain, “What is India teaching you?” Mark also takes the same approach – he is always asking, “What is the city teaching you?” Last night the city was teaching me that the prophet still exists – but it is not always in the church. It is in the creation of the culture that is around it, if we will listen. It is in the creation’s art, its music, its movies, its paintings, its verse, its books, its poets. On this night I heard the prophets screaming for redemption, justice, understanding, and love. It was moving for us all…and for me, in the verse of these profane prophets…God was near.
I’ve also been getting used to my weekly activities, and so have my legs. My legs have had to get used to walking everywhere…although it has been wonderful to be in a place where the weather is agreeable enough to walk. There is so much to share, but I wanted to write something down before it left the freshness of memory.
Last night Adam, Amy and I went over to the Cal-Berkley area to meet Steve, a friend of Adam’s. We were meeting there to watch one of Adam’s favorite performing arts – it’s one that he has even taken part at other venues on other nights. But, tonight he was not performing...we were at this venue to investigate and check out the caliber of the entertainers
We had arrived to enjoy a motivating and humorous night of “poetry slam”. This location in Berkley was rumored to be one of the best poetry slams in the area – so much so that the event happened every week. In San Francisco the major venue for having poetry slam only host once a month – but in Berkley a good showing of almost 75 people piled into the room to hear the eloquence of the poets.
Now I have been to poetry slams before. I remember one at a local coffee house in Waco one night, which really wasn’t that bad. I mean, I’m not about to say that Texas doesn’t have poets as good – Austin, after all, hosted the national poetry slam competition last week. However, what I will say is that the poets from the night in Waco do not stick in my mind as well as last night’s bards.
The night’s inaugural speakers were not bad, they were a good start. (I say this in comparison to the night’s later performers, not because I could do better, or that I am an expert in this art – because I’m defiantly not, and admire their boldness to share their creations publicly) If you have never been to a poetry slam be cautioned that there is no censoring, so if you don’t like crude subjects and foul language I suggest that you try to see the beauty in the art (or just bypass the experience altogether, which would be regretable). The topics varied from political statements, personal confessions, rants about nothing, lamentations about lost love, and sexual exploits. And sometimes all these subjects at once.
There is such a beauty to this type of speech – a rhythmic pentameter and wit that moves the listeners, whether they like or agree with the statements. If there is one thing that can be said about these prophets it’s that they are raw and authentic with their discourse. There is no guessing what they are thinking or feeling – it is in their verse, in their tone, in their delivery, and in their body – their art is apart of who they are, and the spectators get to enjoy the outpouring.
In many of the poems there were rumblings and hints of revolution – a feeling that something was on the threshold, and these poets wanted to be the voices that helped start the movement. And maybe they will. Sitting listening to these 2-3 minute poems moved my inner being more than some sermons have. I was not alone.
After the poems were finished, and the night concluded we all went to chat. On our drive Steve was sharing how he was interning at a church in Oakland, and how he had just returned that day from a retreat with his pastor. This particular retreat was a gathering of many pastors and church leaders from major churches in northern California, Oregon and Washington. Steve talked about how much of conference bored him. He stated that there wasn’t a sermon he didn’t fall asleep in. He was talking about how it seemed that most of the leaders there just did not get the upcoming culture or the reality of postmodernism.
All of what Steve said I was listening to, but one statement struck me. In a moment of frustration he said, “I just spent four days on retreat with the leading pastors in the Northwest…I’m suppose to be inspired after something like that right? But none of them moved me as much as these poets did tonight – I’m ready to start the revolution after that.”
Why is it that true revolutionaries are rarely noted for what they are, or why is it that prophets are never really listened to. It’s no suprise that these prophets reside on the margins – speaking to an audience who long for something greater than what they’ve been made to settle for. It seems to have been this way for a long time though – the prophets speak, and the voice is not heard.
When we were in India Dr. Stroope would refrain, “What is India teaching you?” Mark also takes the same approach – he is always asking, “What is the city teaching you?” Last night the city was teaching me that the prophet still exists – but it is not always in the church. It is in the creation of the culture that is around it, if we will listen. It is in the creation’s art, its music, its movies, its paintings, its verse, its books, its poets. On this night I heard the prophets screaming for redemption, justice, understanding, and love. It was moving for us all…and for me, in the verse of these profane prophets…God was near.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
my usual week
Sorry that it has taken me so long to post something new. This past week has been like the first week of school for me. I've been getting into a new rhythm and still meeting lots of new people. I've got many things to write about, and after I get used to my rhythm I'll post a bit more. In the mean time, people have been asking what I've been doing...so, I decided to post my typical weekly schedule for you all...I don't know that it's that interesting, but for those of you who care it will let you know what I'm doing on a day to day basis. So here is my typical schedule for a week:
-Sunday
5:00pm-7:00pm 7 Gathering
-Monday
9:00am-12:00pm Shadowing Nate Millheim (Re:IMAGINE Project Coordinator)
1:00pm-5:00pm Hanging Out and Helping at Page St. Center
6:00pm-8:00pm Dinner w/ Scandrette Household
9:00pm-10:30pm Men's Accountability Group at the Napper Tandy
-Tuesday
6:30am-7:30am Run w/ Mark
9:00am-12:00pm Shadowing Nate Millheim (Re:IMAGINE Project Coordinator)
1:30pm-4:00pm Re:IMAGINE Advocates [Leadership Team] Meeting
6:30pm-9:00pm Jesus Dojo
-Wednesday
Day off from Re:IMAGINE – will probably be a work/reading day
-Thursday
6:30am-7:30am Run w/ Mark
9:00am-12:00pm Shadowing Nate Millheim (Re:IMAGINE Project Coordinator)
12:00pm-1:00pm Weekly Meeting w/ Mark and Adam
1:00pm-4:30pm Re:IMAGINE Office Hours @ Ritual
7:00pm-9:00pm Hospitality Night
-Friday
5:30am-6:00am Morning Prayer for the City @ Bernal Hill (every 2nd & 4th Friday)
-Saturday
Sabbath Observed
There it is...my typical week....
-Sunday
5:00pm-7:00pm 7 Gathering
-Monday
9:00am-12:00pm Shadowing Nate Millheim (Re:IMAGINE Project Coordinator)
1:00pm-5:00pm Hanging Out and Helping at Page St. Center
6:00pm-8:00pm Dinner w/ Scandrette Household
9:00pm-10:30pm Men's Accountability Group at the Napper Tandy
-Tuesday
6:30am-7:30am Run w/ Mark
9:00am-12:00pm Shadowing Nate Millheim (Re:IMAGINE Project Coordinator)
1:30pm-4:00pm Re:IMAGINE Advocates [Leadership Team] Meeting
6:30pm-9:00pm Jesus Dojo
-Wednesday
Day off from Re:IMAGINE – will probably be a work/reading day
-Thursday
6:30am-7:30am Run w/ Mark
9:00am-12:00pm Shadowing Nate Millheim (Re:IMAGINE Project Coordinator)
12:00pm-1:00pm Weekly Meeting w/ Mark and Adam
1:00pm-4:30pm Re:IMAGINE Office Hours @ Ritual
7:00pm-9:00pm Hospitality Night
-Friday
5:30am-6:00am Morning Prayer for the City @ Bernal Hill (every 2nd & 4th Friday)
-Saturday
Sabbath Observed
There it is...my typical week....
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
a twilight zone moment for you truett readers
For all of you Truett readers, you will find this post much more humorous than other folks. So, last night (Monday) I’m having dinner with the Scandrette household as well as with Dan and Adam (who live in the flat under the Scandrette’s, and whom I’m currently living with). We were enjoying a great pasta dinner and sharing stories.
Mark was sharing with all of us about a time when he was in England and people mistook him for Bono. Now, mistaking Mark for Bono would not be a surprising thing…Mark and Bono do resemble a bit…especially when Mark wears his “Bono glasses” and hip cowboy hat -- which he was at the time. Apparently, however, the people of England Mark encountered forgot that Bono is pretty short…and Mark is about 6’1”.
After this story Mark’s children began to expound on how much of a U2 fan Mark is, and Mark was telling his children about the roots of rock-n-roll (a conversation that was initiated because I was playing Muddy Waters for dinner music).
In this conversation Mark was teaching about how U2 really got into the Delta Blues, and that their album “Rattle and Hum” was greatly influenced by their love affair with the Blues. U2 even came and did some recordings in the Deep South.
As we kept talking about U2 I was waiting for a chance to tell a story told by one of my Truett professors, Joel Weaver. In the story Joel tells of a time when he was in college at Samford and U2 was in town. One night Bono came and hung out with him and some friends in their dorm room on campus. I thought this would be a great story to add to the conversation…and it would have been, until a small Twilight Zone moment happened…
Mark began to tell us about this time in college (Alabama) when he traveled down to Samford to visit a girl he was talking to at the time. The weekend that Mark was visiting this girl just happened to be a weekend when U2 was in town, but they did not get to see them. However, the big news on campus was that Bono was hanging out with some students in a dorm room on campus. Mark’s kids thought this was “so cool.”
In my head I was thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I said, “You all aren’t going to believe this…but the guy’s dorm room Bono hung out in was my Greek professor’s room. He’s told that story many times in class.” We all just kinda sat there looking at each other and laughing about how truely connectioned in the world are, and many times we don't even know it.
Someone tell Joel Weaver that his story has been backed up…for those of you who doubted.
Mark was sharing with all of us about a time when he was in England and people mistook him for Bono. Now, mistaking Mark for Bono would not be a surprising thing…Mark and Bono do resemble a bit…especially when Mark wears his “Bono glasses” and hip cowboy hat -- which he was at the time. Apparently, however, the people of England Mark encountered forgot that Bono is pretty short…and Mark is about 6’1”.
After this story Mark’s children began to expound on how much of a U2 fan Mark is, and Mark was telling his children about the roots of rock-n-roll (a conversation that was initiated because I was playing Muddy Waters for dinner music).
In this conversation Mark was teaching about how U2 really got into the Delta Blues, and that their album “Rattle and Hum” was greatly influenced by their love affair with the Blues. U2 even came and did some recordings in the Deep South.
As we kept talking about U2 I was waiting for a chance to tell a story told by one of my Truett professors, Joel Weaver. In the story Joel tells of a time when he was in college at Samford and U2 was in town. One night Bono came and hung out with him and some friends in their dorm room on campus. I thought this would be a great story to add to the conversation…and it would have been, until a small Twilight Zone moment happened…
Mark began to tell us about this time in college (Alabama) when he traveled down to Samford to visit a girl he was talking to at the time. The weekend that Mark was visiting this girl just happened to be a weekend when U2 was in town, but they did not get to see them. However, the big news on campus was that Bono was hanging out with some students in a dorm room on campus. Mark’s kids thought this was “so cool.”
In my head I was thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I said, “You all aren’t going to believe this…but the guy’s dorm room Bono hung out in was my Greek professor’s room. He’s told that story many times in class.” We all just kinda sat there looking at each other and laughing about how truely connectioned in the world are, and many times we don't even know it.
Someone tell Joel Weaver that his story has been backed up…for those of you who doubted.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
written on friday, posted on sunday -- an update from my first day
The following is from my journal written on Friday...
I am here!! And I feel rested now…it’s amazing how a two hour time difference can mess you up. No worries though, I am also getting my coffee for the morning at a place call “Muddy’s” on Valencia. I’ve decided this morning the just walk around the neighborhood, get a feel for things and to see what kind of stores, restaurants and coffee shops are around.
One thing I can say about San Francisco that I like is that everyone has their own personality and style. I’ve had the conversation with many people before how when I go to some Christian events most people look the same, talk the same, listen to the same music…not much diversity. However, in San Francisco there is lots of diversity…and it has a great beauty to it.
I have lunch with Mark and Adam at 1:00pm, so I’m enjoying some time at Muddy’s journaling. San Francisco is such a neat place. At first arrival it doesn’t feel like a big city…it does have a hint of a small town in the midst of its bigness. It’s is nice to be in a place that is like India in the fact that there is life on the street…and in a few ways life is lived on the streets here.
Yesterday Nate and Adam picked me up at the airport. After I put my stuff down Adam and I went grocery shopping…we were having dinner with Mark, Lisa and the family. I had my first Trader Joe’s experience…nice store. It is interesting being in a place where, for the most part, the majority of the culture desires to live and eat healthy. We went to a market down the street from the house…a great little quasi-open-air market with great produce…even better produce than Fiesta in Waco.
While we were walking, Adam was informing me of a rise in violent crime in the neighborhood. There has especially been a rise in homicides. He was telling me about a murder that had happened about a block from the house. There had been a fight between a couple of men and some day workers came and broke up the fight. Later some people came and shot the two day workers for breaking up the fight.
Because of this the seven week focus of the upcoming Jesus Dojo will center on community action, and what can be done concerning neighborhood violence. Some in the community have been attending weekly police meeting, and many of the Dojo activities will center on community action.
When Adam and I returned home we fixed a salad…our contribution to dinner. When Mark arrived we chatted for a bit and I found out that a couple from England would be joining us for dinner. They were friends of friends and were on vacation to San Francisco. The guy was actually a music composer for video games…pretty cool job!
We all had a wonderful conversation with them about the state of the church in both England and the US. I enjoyed the conversation because of a few reasons:
I got to hear a bit about what is going on with the church in England. This greatly interest me because of my studies of Lesslie Newbigin and his assessment of the church culture in England
Adam shared with them what the current incarnation of Re:Imagine looks like. It was nice to hear what is going on in the community and what I will be involved in for the semester.
Mark told of the history of Re:Imagine and all the things it’s tried to do and ministries it’s practiced…I loved hearing that.
Hearing Mark and Adam talk was wonderful. It made me feel more and more like this place and people will be a good fit for me.
I am here!! And I feel rested now…it’s amazing how a two hour time difference can mess you up. No worries though, I am also getting my coffee for the morning at a place call “Muddy’s” on Valencia. I’ve decided this morning the just walk around the neighborhood, get a feel for things and to see what kind of stores, restaurants and coffee shops are around.
One thing I can say about San Francisco that I like is that everyone has their own personality and style. I’ve had the conversation with many people before how when I go to some Christian events most people look the same, talk the same, listen to the same music…not much diversity. However, in San Francisco there is lots of diversity…and it has a great beauty to it.
I have lunch with Mark and Adam at 1:00pm, so I’m enjoying some time at Muddy’s journaling. San Francisco is such a neat place. At first arrival it doesn’t feel like a big city…it does have a hint of a small town in the midst of its bigness. It’s is nice to be in a place that is like India in the fact that there is life on the street…and in a few ways life is lived on the streets here.
Yesterday Nate and Adam picked me up at the airport. After I put my stuff down Adam and I went grocery shopping…we were having dinner with Mark, Lisa and the family. I had my first Trader Joe’s experience…nice store. It is interesting being in a place where, for the most part, the majority of the culture desires to live and eat healthy. We went to a market down the street from the house…a great little quasi-open-air market with great produce…even better produce than Fiesta in Waco.
While we were walking, Adam was informing me of a rise in violent crime in the neighborhood. There has especially been a rise in homicides. He was telling me about a murder that had happened about a block from the house. There had been a fight between a couple of men and some day workers came and broke up the fight. Later some people came and shot the two day workers for breaking up the fight.
Because of this the seven week focus of the upcoming Jesus Dojo will center on community action, and what can be done concerning neighborhood violence. Some in the community have been attending weekly police meeting, and many of the Dojo activities will center on community action.
When Adam and I returned home we fixed a salad…our contribution to dinner. When Mark arrived we chatted for a bit and I found out that a couple from England would be joining us for dinner. They were friends of friends and were on vacation to San Francisco. The guy was actually a music composer for video games…pretty cool job!
We all had a wonderful conversation with them about the state of the church in both England and the US. I enjoyed the conversation because of a few reasons:
I got to hear a bit about what is going on with the church in England. This greatly interest me because of my studies of Lesslie Newbigin and his assessment of the church culture in England
Adam shared with them what the current incarnation of Re:Imagine looks like. It was nice to hear what is going on in the community and what I will be involved in for the semester.
Mark told of the history of Re:Imagine and all the things it’s tried to do and ministries it’s practiced…I loved hearing that.
Hearing Mark and Adam talk was wonderful. It made me feel more and more like this place and people will be a good fit for me.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
traveling to san francisco
This is mostly from my journal written on Thursday, August 30...so when I'm talking about "today", that is the day I'm speaking of.
So today I have left for San Francisco for my mentoring semester. Cliff took me to DFW this morning and I am off.
The past two days have been a bit difficult. It seems that I am beginning to realize how much people and places mean to me…and Truett and the people there mean a lot to me right now in my life, and probably always will. Last night was Celina’s going away party. She’s going to Chicago to live in a neo-monastic community called Reba House. Most of my friends were at this get-together and were telling me goodbye as well.
After I left the party I went to tell my goodbyes to Ryan and Kristen. I will see Ryan in a few weeks, but I will miss both of them greatly. The two of them have been so intertwined into my story even before Waco, and now all through my story in Waco…I will miss them greatly.
This leaving seems strange. I am leaving Truett for a time and it is totally different than other times that I’ve left. First, it is not for a summer. It seems that leaving for the summer is okay, and in some ways expected. This semester is also not being spent with Truett friends. When I went to India earlier this summer it was with Truett friends, so much of our conversations were about either the India trip or about Truett…we shared a common story on more than one level. The aspect of this that might be the greatest aspect to get used to is the fact that I am here for three months. I mean, I visited here for about four days…but now...I’m here for three months. I’m still getting in my mind that I will live in San Francisco for that time. It is strange to get into my mind that on this journey to San Francisco, unlike India, I will have no traveling companions…no one who may be feeling the same thing as myself and wanting to talk and unpack those feelings and thoughts.
This year seems to have gone by so quick. I have told many people that since the end of the spring semester I feel like someone has pushed me down a hill toward next May. After school ended in May there has been: India, trip to San Francisco, the return of Nicki into my life, school/work, trip to Savannah to see Nicki, preparation for mentoring, Truett’s orientation, etc. All of this and I’m not really sure that I have had time to process it all completely.
Currently I’m in LAX airport…sitting in the same terminal that the India group sat in before we left to return to Dallas…it was our last stop before home about two months ago. I had a sad lament about the trip standing in one of the places we spent time. I went to the same Chili’s Too that Baxter, Chris, Jesse, Stroope and I went to enjoy our first meal back in America. I even went to the same Starbuck’s I went to get my first Starbuck’s coffee for the first time in about a month. I had a sad remembrance standing at the circle of chairs we all collapsed into after an exhausting fright from Delhi to Hong Kong to LA. I could picture in my head where all of us were sitting. I could see where Baxter, Chris, Jessie and I were playing cards on the floor. I could remember seeing Stroope sitting calling his wife…Meagan and Celina sitting next to each other nearly resting on each other, keeping the other from falling asleep. I could picture Karen putting marks on people’s memory cards and placing them in a zip lock bag while Katie called home and Sarah Ro tried not to fall asleep reading Time magazine with Curt reading up on the World Cup. It made me think of how I’m still unpacking that trip, and how I love each of the people who participated on that journey…our lives are forever intertwined.
Celina and I prepared a CD for the India trip and, if I do say so myself (and Celina concurs), it’s good. The first song on the “India CD” is one of my favorites, a song by Andrew Peterson: Canaan Bound. I’m not really sure why that song strikes me so, but it haunts me at times. I wrote in one of my missions papers about how I’ve been enamored by the Abraham story for quite awhile now…probably for two years or so. It’s an amazing story. Two people who are doing pretty well in life get this memo from God saying how he wants them to up and move to some other place. He tells Abram that he’ll make a great nation and have land and children and all kinds of stuff. The crazy thing to me is that Abram does it…he and the fam just get up one morning and leave. The thing that really gets me about the story is that most of the promises that God told to Abram never get to be seen by Abram…he dies before many of them are fulfilled. So Abram and Sarai one day just get up and walk into the unknown, a perceived darkness…just because God called them. That’s just strange…yet it is how I feel many times…like I walking into a perceived darkness, or like I’m stepping into a story that I don’t know the ending, and I may not…so I hope I enjoy this chapter in San Francisco.
So today I have left for San Francisco for my mentoring semester. Cliff took me to DFW this morning and I am off.
The past two days have been a bit difficult. It seems that I am beginning to realize how much people and places mean to me…and Truett and the people there mean a lot to me right now in my life, and probably always will. Last night was Celina’s going away party. She’s going to Chicago to live in a neo-monastic community called Reba House. Most of my friends were at this get-together and were telling me goodbye as well.
After I left the party I went to tell my goodbyes to Ryan and Kristen. I will see Ryan in a few weeks, but I will miss both of them greatly. The two of them have been so intertwined into my story even before Waco, and now all through my story in Waco…I will miss them greatly.
This leaving seems strange. I am leaving Truett for a time and it is totally different than other times that I’ve left. First, it is not for a summer. It seems that leaving for the summer is okay, and in some ways expected. This semester is also not being spent with Truett friends. When I went to India earlier this summer it was with Truett friends, so much of our conversations were about either the India trip or about Truett…we shared a common story on more than one level. The aspect of this that might be the greatest aspect to get used to is the fact that I am here for three months. I mean, I visited here for about four days…but now...I’m here for three months. I’m still getting in my mind that I will live in San Francisco for that time. It is strange to get into my mind that on this journey to San Francisco, unlike India, I will have no traveling companions…no one who may be feeling the same thing as myself and wanting to talk and unpack those feelings and thoughts.
This year seems to have gone by so quick. I have told many people that since the end of the spring semester I feel like someone has pushed me down a hill toward next May. After school ended in May there has been: India, trip to San Francisco, the return of Nicki into my life, school/work, trip to Savannah to see Nicki, preparation for mentoring, Truett’s orientation, etc. All of this and I’m not really sure that I have had time to process it all completely.
Currently I’m in LAX airport…sitting in the same terminal that the India group sat in before we left to return to Dallas…it was our last stop before home about two months ago. I had a sad lament about the trip standing in one of the places we spent time. I went to the same Chili’s Too that Baxter, Chris, Jesse, Stroope and I went to enjoy our first meal back in America. I even went to the same Starbuck’s I went to get my first Starbuck’s coffee for the first time in about a month. I had a sad remembrance standing at the circle of chairs we all collapsed into after an exhausting fright from Delhi to Hong Kong to LA. I could picture in my head where all of us were sitting. I could see where Baxter, Chris, Jessie and I were playing cards on the floor. I could remember seeing Stroope sitting calling his wife…Meagan and Celina sitting next to each other nearly resting on each other, keeping the other from falling asleep. I could picture Karen putting marks on people’s memory cards and placing them in a zip lock bag while Katie called home and Sarah Ro tried not to fall asleep reading Time magazine with Curt reading up on the World Cup. It made me think of how I’m still unpacking that trip, and how I love each of the people who participated on that journey…our lives are forever intertwined.
Celina and I prepared a CD for the India trip and, if I do say so myself (and Celina concurs), it’s good. The first song on the “India CD” is one of my favorites, a song by Andrew Peterson: Canaan Bound. I’m not really sure why that song strikes me so, but it haunts me at times. I wrote in one of my missions papers about how I’ve been enamored by the Abraham story for quite awhile now…probably for two years or so. It’s an amazing story. Two people who are doing pretty well in life get this memo from God saying how he wants them to up and move to some other place. He tells Abram that he’ll make a great nation and have land and children and all kinds of stuff. The crazy thing to me is that Abram does it…he and the fam just get up one morning and leave. The thing that really gets me about the story is that most of the promises that God told to Abram never get to be seen by Abram…he dies before many of them are fulfilled. So Abram and Sarai one day just get up and walk into the unknown, a perceived darkness…just because God called them. That’s just strange…yet it is how I feel many times…like I walking into a perceived darkness, or like I’m stepping into a story that I don’t know the ending, and I may not…so I hope I enjoy this chapter in San Francisco.
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