Dear Laurel and Qball

“You belong with me
Not swallowed in the sea
Yeah, you belong with me
Not swallowed in the sea”- Coldplay

Just curious, what do they call people from Virginia Beach? Virginia Beachins? Sorry but everything that comes to mind sounds dodgy…but that may just be, because I’m a dodgy character.

Laurel and Qball… fine, fine, I am jealous of your Coldplay experience last night and yes I did appreciate the play-by-play phone calls and text messages. And yes, I was crying listening to “Fix You” over the phone. (You couldn’t tell but I was really crying in my heart. I really was, I promise. It was beautiful.)
It made my day being happy for you.

I miss both of you tremendously. More than I ever thought possible. Q my Republican brother, I miss our long, late night discussions, chuckles and Oreos. (…and I really miss making fun of your Michael Bolton too.) Laurel, I miss our late morning commute debates and counseling sessions over iced coffee. (And I really miss making fun of Big Bertha and your plantation owning family.)
Seriously, I really miss you guys.

I love you guys so much.

… still very jealous.

injustice

“Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!” – God
(see amo5)

With my recent purchase of The Travel Book, my jovial viewing of
Motorcycle Diaries and a long beautiful conversation with my mother, I feel the molten magma of mission begin to move in my veins. A renewed sense of destiny and direction has gripped me and I see myself walking towards the starting blocks, shaking free the nervous shackles of comfort and security.

I was awed at the final word Ernesto "Che" Guevara chose, to describe his youthful adventurous travels around South America; “Injustice”.

On Wednesday evening at church, we watched and discussed Hotel Rwanda. After, I did a presentation on the genocide in the Darfur region in Sudan. And as I spoke and presented I was struck at how my heart was freshly moved by this injustice. Injustice. Gross injustice.

I lingered at a Cantonese restaurant, sipping on hot tea, with my accountability friend; Hang Tu. We spoke about our hearts and the scars and fresh wounds we carry. And as we prayed together our eyes turned from our own lives, a new vision for those in our circles and those in our world emerged and overwhelmed us. So much injustice.

Father, may the things that are close to Your heart become the things that are close to our hearts. Amen.

"So the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice?" -Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Letter from Birmingham Jail

Winding Creek

The harvest at the vineyard is something I look forward to at the end of each summer.

Imagine rolling fields dotted with lazy cows and dancing trees. Imagine gathering juicy grapes with gorgeous blue skies above and rolling green fields as far as the eye can see. Imagine a million grapes squishing under your feet and a million laughs in your heart. Imagine a glassy pond, a beautiful log cabin, a porch, rocking chairs and a sinking golden sunset. Imagine lingering outside while darkness descends. Now reach out far enough and you will be able to touch an upward rising moon. And then when the evening is done, with your head on the pillow, listen long enough and you will be able to hear the sound of silence.
I love this place.

I love the people who live here. I love how welcome I feel every time I see them. I love how hospitable and kind they are. I love their contagious smiles and bubbling hearts. I love this hidden little corner of the planet and every minute I've ever spent here.
I love this place.

Two years ago I took an evening walk up the hill above the vines and said hello to God. He's so much easier to walk with in lush grass and so much easier to listen to with the wind in the trees. He whispered wonderful things to me that day. Out on those hills, He gets me still enough to hear Him and quiet enough to listen.
I love this place.

Having said all this, I hope you can catch a glimpse of how much I love this place, how much I love this family; Annie, Amy, Mary and Fred, you guys are the greatest. Grazie. Molto amore!

taking a dip


the main cabin


apple baseball

quality control

making wine

Lynn, Annie, Amy and I (stunning girls...and stunning me too.)

okay, I can't resist, one last one of tim and I ...

(I drove this bulldozer once. That night I had a dream I was driving it on the freeway in rush hour traffic. Wonderful dream.)

"...bullet and a target"

I finally got to see Citizen Cope perform at the Double Door! Wow, it was spectacular! He is such a brilliant musician. The place was a packed out jamming, sweaty, smoke box.. ah it was such a killer show! Pick up his CD tomorrow if you haven't heard him before. Somethin' a little different.

The Clarence Greenwood Recordings- Citizen Cope


CLICK HERE to watch one of his music videos. Seriously, you have to listen to this. It's awesome! This song is first in my iMix. Seriously, click it or you know what!

defining moment

I know I was going to write a report on my time in Wisconsin but I received a petition from the residents of Wisconsin asking me to disaffiliate myself with them as I am apparently stirring up too much controversy over the whole “Metro” discussion. So I digress.
--------------------------------------------

I know I am probably the last person in the world to see “Million Dollar Baby” but I finally got around to seeing it and was pretty moved by the rawness of the story. I’m not going to try and be smart and pretend I have an opinion on the filmmaking and acting because I really don’t.

I guess it’s the story that has stuck with me over the last 48hrs. And the momentum these thoughts have gathered. I have multiplying thoughts about the unfathomable brokenness many people live with or have come out of and this driving desire to make something of themselves. Simultaneously I am awed at the incredible potential for true wholeness, significance, achievement, and meaningfulness God has to offer us. Not for selfish ambition or vein conceit… but I love that He offers us a chance to heroically participate in redeeming this world to Himself.

The thing I’ve been thinking about is this; is there a moment in time where each of us is called to decide if we will take on a more specific call? I’m not talking about salvation issues. I’m talking about our individual life purpose for which God has weaved us together. You know that defining moment, that Moses at the burning bush decision time. That Joshua, “choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve,..” moment. That, “whom can I send and who will go for me?..” calling.

I wonder if many of us once had a radical vision in our hearts that somehow over time has begun to wither. My greatest fear is that years from now I will look back and see that I heisted and paused, and I rationalized and in my delay and hesitation, voices and words convinced me to stay...and I found myself able to walk away from what I knew what was right. I think this is why I love Wallace’s words that heed the warning of life’s deepest regret; ignoring that call and coming to the end and dying, having not really lived. Who wants to die having not really lived their purpose? Ah, to be like David "For when David had served God's purpose in his own generation, he fell asleep; he was buried…”

William: “I am William Wallace, and I see before me an army of my countrymen here in defiance of tyranny. You have come to fight as free men, and free men you are. What would you do without freedom? Will you fight?

Soldier: “Fight against that? No, we will run, and we will live.”

William: “Ay, fight and you may die, run and you'll live. At least a while. And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom.”

I wonder when this “on the battle field moment of decision” is for each person, this seemingly impossible journey that calls me away from the shoreline of comfort and safety? And I wonder how many of us forsake our calling and walk on. I don’t know… just thinking.
Thinkin too much.

priceless

Going to drum circle with Jesikah and having a 4am night out, sweetly exhausting.
Swimming in the lake, playing several games of volleyball and getting my groove back, exhaustingly sweet.
Waking up in the morning and finding a note at my door, from a roommate saying, "Allan, you have become a brother." Priceless.

Aggressive blow-Tapioca-through-straw fights with Mike and Michelle in China Town and discovering I'm actually a Dragon, delightfully amusing.
Goodbye lunch with Jenn, and embarrassing her beyond every shade of red, amusingly delightful.
Realizing what an awesome friend she's been to me, again...priceless.

Grilling out at Paige's and watching fireworks out on the lake, unexpectedly beautiful.
Riding the streets of Chicago late at night with friends, beautifully unexpected.
Running over drunk Jimmy Buffet fans in Wrigleyville... somewhat priceless.

Wisconsin demolition derby, horse-pull, lumberjacks and pig racing, wonderfully entertaining.
My first corn dog, cheese curds and pig racing, entertainingly wonderful.
The photo of birthday-boy-Tim and I weaning milk from the udder of a 30ft inflatable cow, oh so priceless!

Driving back home from a ridiculously awesome weekend and talking with my Father, totally, inexpressibly priceless, priceless, priceless!

-------------------------------------------------
Up Coming attractions, on my next post, about Wisconsin:
A. I have a new crush on Demolition Derby Driver Kick-Ass-Girls. Forget those "nice" church girls, this is where it's at boys. Cuties, HELLO!
B. Okay, F.Y.I Wisconsin, I'm from Africa and I've had elephant ears and those weren't them.

Everything’s Not Lost

This one was too funny to pass up. My sister sent it to me and it managed to pull out a chuckle and a giggle so I thought I would share.

I have been thinking about what it means to be lost for some reason. If you hail from any sort of Christian background the word “lost” often refers to “them”. You know, those over there who haven’t yet said the prayer. The objects of our well rehearsed dramas and tract giving. Those yet to walk to the front and bend the knee. Wow, what a cynic I have become of contemporary evangelism. (I hate that I’m like this but really folks, let’s try actually loving the people. Well that’s another topic for another day.)

But this is not the lostness I have been thinking of. I was lost driving to a friend’s house the other day and called up and said, “I’m lost!” They asked “well, how lost are you?” I said, “I am as lost as a Southern Baptist pastor in a titty bar.”
Now that’s kinda like the lostness I’m talking about. I have been thinking about those whom are spiritually found but get lost in their walk. Those prodigals, who lose their way in the Way. I admit I am more than occasionally one of them. I have been feeling very lost recently. It’s not theological or philosophical or any other “icals”. It’s a peculiar lostness though. It’s an incapacitating feeling inside me that makes me feel….unfound. Does that make any sense?

Well I think we all have the ability to let the days roll by, weeks, and months without truly contemplating. Busyness steals our attention and the obstacle course of life clouds eternal perspective, leaving us feeling lost. But I think there is a lostness that pleads with God to be found. I mean david said it, “You are my help and deliverer; O my God, do not delay.” In fact loads of his stuff came from this place of feeling stranded. I like how Van Morrison says it too.
“I’m stranded at the edge of the world. It’s a world I don’t know and I’ve got no place to go. It feels like I’m stranded” –Stranded, from the album Magic Time. (this is such a great song.)

I guess that ultimately in this directionless place we understand what it means to really surrender beyond those pretty worship songs. We raise our arms in surrender to God and hope for Him to turn them into an embrace. Running on empty I think I’m there. Like Erin’s pastor said on Sunday, “you get to a place where you have no more faith and Grace takes over.” Mmm…I like that. I think I’m here Lord.