Out With the Old...

There is a lot to learn from reading back through old journals. Reading page after page of high school writing is pretty taxing, and I find my year 2009 self having to hold back from wanting to violently shake the naivete, insecurity, and general high school-ness right out of my year 2001 self. I often have to remind myself that I was only a 15 year-old boy.

But it's great. There are all of these "Aha!" moments and all of these good, though misguided, intentions, and all of these dreams and struggles. And, really, things aren't that much different. I'm convinced that the things we struggle with and dream about now are the things we will still struggle with and still dream about 30 years from now. It will just look a little bit different or be a little bit more developed or subdued.

For the most part, I plod along through these journals, writing about experiences and conversations and moments and a whole slew of other things that probably only mean something to me. Then, the other day, I arrived at February 2005. It was the second semester of my sophomore year of college, and I was engaged in an all-out battle. I had been trying to sort something out. Here's what I wrote:

"I feel like I've given up on the old Jesus and the new Jesus has yet to come to take his place."

At the time, this was written with a good measure of cynicism and doubt and, probably, yes, fear. I was disillusioned with most things, especially church. But the other day when I read that statement that I wrote almost five years ago, it stirred something in my heart. It hit me with a little less cynicism and negativity but just as much truth. Something different had taken the place of those feelings. It was hope.

I tend to think of life as a journey with no final destination, at least not this side of life. We never get "there"; we never "arrive" (after all, the feeling that we have "arrived" at God is probably a good indication that whatever it is we are arriving at is most certainly NOT God). We are always searching. And the search is the good part. Frederick Buechner says this about the search in his book The Sacred Journey:

One way or another the journey through time starts for us all, and for all of us, too, that journey is in at least one sense the same journey because what it is primarily, I think, is a journey in search. Each must say for himself what he searches for, and there will be as many answers as there are searchers, but perhaps there are certain general answers that will do for us all. We search for a self to be. We search for other selves to love. We search for work to do. And since even when to one degree or another we find these things, we find also that there is still something crucial missing which we have not found, we search for that unfound thing too, even though we do not know its name or where it is to be found or even if it is to be found at all.

I hope that I have a curiosity about life, that the "unfound thing" draws me in. I hope that I never lose my willingness to let go of the old in order to grab onto the new, even if the new is not yet in reach, even if I can only barely see it approaching on the horizon. I hope I'm willing to wait in that uncomfortable space between. I hope that I have enough faith, even when I'm 80 years old, to let go of the "old Jesus" and let the "new Jesus" come to take his place.

dave

Garage Band

One of my favorite things in the world is to scour the internet for live footage of some of my favorite musical artists. I especially love the videos that are filmed "in studio" or some obscure location like an apartment or a tiny little nook in an Irish pub or just on the street (or the back of a cab?!). I think it's how music is meant to be experienced. There's just something special and raw about watching someone play music in an intimate place.

You can imagine my excitement when my friend Steve told me that he and Brandon were hosting a house show in Brandon's garage. A friend of theirs is on tour, and instead of playing larger venues they decided to do a series of house shows, hosted by friends all over the country. With a house show, the band have less constrictions on what they can do and how much time they have. They also wanted an opportunity to share their experiences with adoption and justice with a small group of people.

Scott and I pulled up to Brandon's house and walked around back to the garage. It was a chilly, rainy night -- perfect for coffee and hot chocolate. After some time just hanging about and talking, Autumn in Repair (Steve and Brandon) played a few songs, and then Aaron Ivey and his crew took over.

The whole show was amazing. It was a beautiful atmosphere, with a projector flashing picture and video, candles, and great sound for such an odd place. What's more, the personal stories of love and faith and justice that the band told were inspiring and without pretense. They really live it...humbly.


And it truly felt like I was in one of the YouTube videos that I love so much.

I have some very talented, very caring friends.

dave

The Great Debate

No, I'm not talking about the Jayhawks vs. The Tigers or The Roasterie vs. Broadway. I'm not talking about Gates vs. Bryant's vs. Joe's vs. Jack Stack vs. etc., etc., etc. I'm not talking about The Funk vs. his own City Council. I'm not talking about Brian Busby vs. Gary Lezak . I'm not talking about any of that.

I'm talking about The Light Rail.

To Light Rail or not to Light Rail? That is the question (well, not really, but that's what I'm writing about).

I read this article from the Kansas City Star yesterday. To be honest, it struck me as a little bit ridiculous. More on that later. Here are a few fun facts about the Kansas City Light Rail project.

The first proposal was added to the ballot in 1998. It was voted down. In fact, it has been voted down SEVEN TIMES since 1998. Once, in 2006, Kansas Citians actually voted to install a light rail, but things never got off the ground after that. In 2008, Kansas City again said "no" to the light rail plan.

Poor Clay Chastain just keeps on keepin' on, though. I admire his perseverance, and hope that one day it pays off.

Now, why is this current proposal a little bit ridiculous?

First, let me say that I like the idea of a light rail. In fact, I voted for it in '08. I think it's a step in the right direction for our city. That, and improving our law enforcement so people will actually get on the thing.

OK, now the ridiculous part:

This current proposal includes installing a Ferris Wheel in Penn Valley Park. A light rail, and a Ferris Wheel.

A Ferris Wheel?

A Ferris Wheel.

Tax-payers in Kansas City have not been willing to pay for a new public transportation system. But maybe they'll vote for it if the sky-line includes a giant carnival ride perched next to The Scout or the Liberty Memorial.

(Insert Ferris Wheel here)

Here's hoping...

dave

All Of Us

Over the past couple years, I have fallen in love with the book of Genesis. Become addicted, really. A little strange, I know, but I just can't get enough of it.

The observations about humanity are stunning. Are we not all striving for control? Are we not all deceived? Are we not all deceivers? Are we not all capable of incredible good and also incredible evil? Are we not all hiding? Are we not all waiting for something to call us on a journey? Are we not all wrestling with something? Are we not all trying to figure this thing out?

The questions that are asked stop me in my tracks: "Did God really say that?" "Where are you?" "What have you done?" "Am I my brother's keeper?" "Will not the judge of all the earth do right?" These are questions that we all answer in some form or another for all of our lives. There is no escaping them.

Now that I'm familiar with it, I see the Genesis story everywhere. I see it in the books I read and the movies I watch, and in the everyday interactions and transactions of my life. I see it when I read the news and when I take a drive through Kansas City in the fall.

We all have stories that narrate our lives, whether we choose to recognize their influence or not. We all ask these big, huge questions of our world and of our God.

All of us.

dave

Manna on Main

What would it be like to rise in the morning, wipe away the remaining fragments of dreams, stretch out your tired frame, pull on your work clothes, shuffle your feet down the hall, past the bathroom, through the kitchen, out the back door, across the basketball court, and into the street - breakfast is waiting.

It's always waiting, and it's the only thing on the menu. You can't grow food. Anything you raise slips through your fingers before it can create sustenance. This is it. Your daily bread. It's always there. You can't stop it from coming. You can't create or recreate the meal that fills you.

This food provides life, and you are dependant on its provision.

It's a scary thought. Being dependent.

A few weeks ago I was talking to a lady about Sseko, a company Liz, Tyler, and I started in Uganda. We employ some awesome young ladies so that they can go on to University. Sseko is a means to an end for these girls. And the end is changing and shaping their reality, it is being empowered to make choices, live with dignity, and have the freedom to dream.

The lady had a funny response, "Good for them. Earning their own way."

Their own way. This is important.

With the rise of prosperity, comes choice, freedom, and seemingly individuality. You can define your space, time, and friend group when you can move anywhere, eat anything, and form your living habits around the clock. There is a defined system of belief in this country, a religious belief, a political belief, a cultural belief that tells us that it is best to go at it alone.

It just makes me wonder about the manna. It makes me wonder if the Lord saw us when he said, "otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget...who brought you out of slavery."

How did we get here? Wherever here is.

Are we supposed to go at it alone? Are the girls in Uganda making it on their own? Are any of us?

benjamin