letdown.

I've always had this problem: I hate to disappoint people.

I guess the first time I came face to face with it was during my junior year of high school. I had signed up for a summer program that provided students with an opportunity to live in Switzerland for a couple weeks. I would stay with a family, providing that I only speak in french. It was an exchange of sorts because after my time abroad, someone from my foreign family would come to live with me back home. I was so excited to go, and so was my french teacher. In fact, she was super excited. Every other week beginning in October, she would mention details about the city or cultural things I should be aware of. This exchange is a yearly event, so she has a fondness for it.

But come Christmas, my grandparents surprise my immediate family with this: an itinerary for a tour across Kenya! I could write pages and pages describing that trip, so I'll refrain. To put it short, Switzerland just wouldn't work.

(Wow, I can't understand why God has blessed me with so much. I totally don't deserve to be choosing between trips to Kenya and Switzerland.)

Anyway, the crux. I was gonna have to tell my french teacher the situation. But I didn't. I was able to tell the organization that would have flown me out there, but it was easy because I didn't know them. I loved my professor. I'm actually amazed I held off the secret for as long as I did; it must have been three or four months. She continued to feed me hints and facts every other week, and I just smiled and thanked her. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't let her down. Whenever she talked about her experiences abroad, her eyes lit up and I could feel the passion in her storytelling. I just kept putting it off.

I get a call from my teacher, and she has discovered my lie by omission. And she is so flustered and seething. She isn't upset that I'm not going, but that I had misled her. I'll never forget the shock in her voice.

This story may sound irrelevant and maybe even conceited. But it wasn't easy repairing so many damaged relationships. This affair forced me to look at myself. Because of my distaste for disappointing people, I ended up causing more pain when the truth did come out. Why do people do this? Even when we know the consequences will be severe, why do we hold off until the last possible moment?

I surely can't answer that. But I know that there's more internal struggle to be had once you realize that your own acts are self-destructive. The other day I asked God to help me. And at this moment, I feel like that's all I can do. When I encounter another story like this, I'm gonna try and suck in my pride and let someone down. Respectfully, of course.

From a stranger, to a stranger.

Finished this one last night. I wrote the first verse during the first two weeks of school and ended up leaving it to gather dust. It has that "you vs. me" style that I've been practicing lately, in which the subject transitions through the verse and the chorus.

This song began as a song about moving away from home, and slowly shifted into the story about my faith rediscovery, through my friends and my church. I call myself a stranger, as I'm new to Nashville, and I call my schoolmates strangers because I've only just met them. Yet, as I learn more about these strangers, I discover that they are the "faces of friends I left behind," or people who share similar interests and attitudes as my friends back in Indiana. Now, that's not to say that these new companions are exactly like me; our beliefs, politically and spiritually, seem to differ. But these "strangers" have helped me define myself and my relationship with God. 

I received love "from a stranger" so now I'm giving it back "to a stranger."

You're just another kid who moved down south

The heart of Nashville pumps its blood into your mouth

And after flight, you thought you'd never find

The faces of friends you left behind

'Cause in the city does he show himself

To those who run and claim that they do not need help?

Well, as a stranger who began alone

A call from a stranger led you home

A call from a stranger led you home

The house was small, the praise was loud

The Lord appeared, the people bowed

You wept for joy before a joyful crowd

A hug from a stranger led me home

A hug from a stranger led me home

There was no judgement and nobody cared

If someone spoke aloud with arms raised in the air

And in these faces that were true and kind

Were faces of friends you left behind

If home is where the heart is, yours was numb

When you recited those three words, "Thy Kingdom Come"

So were you shocked in your attempts to roam?

 A smile from a stranger led you home

A smile from a stranger led you home

The house was small, the praise was loud

The Lord appeared, the people bowed

You wept for joy before a joyful crowd

The love from a stranger led me home

The love from a stranger led me home

The love from a stranger led me home

The love from a stranger led me home

Josh Garrels, Jacaranda Tree.

Sitting on porches

Since Friday while the sky

Tilts like a watery glass

We wait for downpours

A drenching joy

A carnival sky

But what I don’t say

What I can’t say

Is that with this joy

Comes a mourning

Something left behind

Blue lined, teary

Mingled

I move on

All things will change

We wait for the rain

And the promise remains

Live life fully

Peeking through fingers

Slung in our hammocks

Cocooned

Skimming the water

Trapezed above time

We glide like slingshot angels

Belly up and

Floating we see

The promise in the sky

Up to Orion’s ribs

We climb this tree

And listen

For our pulse

All things will change

We wait for the rain

And the promise remains

I flung loosely

Into that world

I stayed heavily

I’ll be a Jacaranda Tree

In Indiana

I say

Greenhoused and sung to

I pray light will

Leak from out pockets

We’ll be drenched, overcome

At night the fireflies

Streamers at our sides

Silent flaming arcs of hope

All things will change

We wait for the rain

And the promise remains

This gorgeous song was written by Michelle Garrels and performed by her husband, Josh Garrels. Josh's music has had such a profound influence on my songwriting and composition. There is something so pure about his voice and instrumentation; it's organic and earthy. "Jacaranda Tree" is a cut from his newest album, "Jacaranda," and has quickly become one of my favorite songs, ever. I pulled these lyrics from his blog and the thing that moves me is how it reads like poetry. I can't speak highly enough about Josh Garrels' other songs and albums. How this beautiful praise found its way into my hands is beyond me - but it truly is a blessing.

MP3: Josh Garrels - Jacaranda Tree

Captive/Captivated.

I was thinking about this the other day. It's strange that only three letters can change the meaning of a word. Captive and captivated: two words structurally similar but fairly polar. Captive, according to the American Heritage Dictionary, means "One, such as a prisoner of war, who is forcibly confined, subjugated, or enslaved." Yet captivated is defined as "attracted and held by charm, beauty, or excellence." I, myself, am captivated by God, but not a captive of God.

This is the first picture that came up after searching Google Images for "captive." Although I'm not aware of the situation, to see blank, perilous faces on these children is frightening.

And this is what appeared after the "captivating" search. This young girl is entranced by the beauty of this sunset. And who wouldn't be? There is a sense of peace in this scene.

I challenge everyone to think of what keeps you captive and what captivates you. Personally, I am held captive by my sins and my insecurities. I feel like that's a very common attitude, and as a son or daughter of God, it shouldn't be. The Lord captivated me with nature and music. There are an infinite amount of opinions. Know which one is yours!

50.

Stumbled across this old tune that I wrote for my mom for her 50th birthday party. I was/am torn between two titles, "50" and "The Blink." Not sure whether I'll record it.

Age, it's just a distraction

Well, what is your passion?

Pursue without fear

And rage, why does it come easy?

Do you see what I see

when you look in the mirror?

Well, some run away when they're 50

Just scared that it's true

You could run away, yeah, you're 50

But that's not like you

I doubt, you didn't want to stay young

But I'm here as your son

Who can't picture life

Without your warmth and your patience

And yours saw the changes

To a mother and wife

Well, some run away when they're 50

Just scared that it's true

You could run away, yeah, you're 50

But that's not like you

As human's we pretend and disagree

But life on earth is just a blink of eternity

Well, some run away when they're 50

Just scared that it's true

You could run away, yeah, you're 50

But that's not like you

Don't blink 'cause the world moves too fast

A calculator blow to the head.

I'm never less than dazzled by Andrew Bird's work. "The Mysterious Production of Eggs" was one of 2005's best, and last year's "Armchair Apocrypha" was another stunner. Combine Bird's infectious whistling with his intricate violin skill and you've got some of the most catchy folk/pop music on the market today. His sprawling discography is so well-rounded that I'm starting to wonder whether he will ever put out a bad record (he and his "Bowl of Fire" never did). And it seems that "Noble Beast," which will hit shelves January 09 will be no exception. I, for one, can't wait. 

The first track, Oh No, is classic Bird; a little more rhythmic this time around. Pitchfork's Forkcast is currently streaming the song HERE.

Home.

Fall break: After two months at Belmont, I've finally come home for a weekend. I was telling everyone before I left, "I'm not quite homesick, but I do miss home." Which is true.

But I've only been here for a couple hours and I'm already telling myself, "I missed the people, not the place." I was absolutely ecstatic to see my family, including both my dog and mom rushing out the garage door, and my sister who wouldn't admit that she really did miss me. I had a good long talk with my mom and dad about politics and my reignited faith at college, yet I realized that because I can better see God in my life, and can better see the places at home that hold bad memories. It frightens me that I can pinpoint exactly where I've sinned.

After a conversation with God, I know what needs to be done. I need to go to these places and put these evils to rest. I want to cast these sins away and progress in my faith, not regress. My past is important to me, but I can't live to my fullest if I don't lay my burdens down. It sounds a bit selfish, but if certain events continue to haunt someone for years after they occurred, peace needs to be made.

This break should be a break for me. I really want to enjoy myself while I'm here. Visit my friends and former teachers, stop at all my favorite records stores, catch up on some sleep, do some homework (gasp!). Father, my intentions are real, and I will submit myself to You.