love.

love.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” – Jesus Christ.

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.” – Paul, the apostle .

The Flamings have a fight test. Pheonix calls 1901. Amy Millan says, “Baby, I.” David Bowie has soul love. Neutral Milk Hotel is in the aeroplane over the sea. Your heart, it races to Archetecture in Helsinki. The Ramones wanna be your boyfriend. The Beatles are so tired. Blitzen Trapper loves u. Bon Iver wants his skinny love. The Microphones won’t contain you. The National tells an apartment story. Menomena is wet and rusting. Iron & Wine are naked as they came. God only knows what the Beach Boys would be without you. Johnny Cash is so doggone lonesome. Fleet Foxes are your protector. Wilco is trying to break your heart. Peter, Bjorn & John start to melt. God only knows what the Langley Schools Music Project would do without you, too.

Thank you Sarah, for the Pheonix. Thank you Nick, for the Blitzen Trapper and Fleet Foxes. Thank you all and remember, I love you.

new york.

It’s been a long time. Sorry. I’ve been trying to upload a podcast episode for a couple weeks or so, and it still won’t go on. Ugh. I’m listening to it right now, and it’s so good. I WANT TO SHARE IT WITH YOU. Frustration.

New York City. It’s a great place. We got there on the seventeenth, the first warm, sunny day of the season. Everyone was out outside enjoying it. The streets were alive. They gave us a good first impression. But after a day in a bus, and a long walk trying to find where we were staying, all we wanted to do was sleep.

The next day we walked to the Statin Island Ferry to take a look at the Statue of Liberty. All the way there, people were everywhere. And they were all talking, asking where they should meet, who had a hard week. “Where the heck is he? Did you see that movie? You wouldn’t like it.” I couldn’t keep from listening. It’s the way people talk around there, you can’t help yourself. We walked by a high school orchestra playing Mozart. It felt nostalgic, seeing them awkwardly on the plaza in front of the busy street, so we stayed to hear them play. The problem with high school orchestras is that on person can ruin everything. I think it must have been more than one person, but one violinist definitely stood out. I felt bad for them. I know how that can feel.

The ferry, which we thought would cost us $2.00 each, ended up being free. They just herd everyone on like cattle. We took our numerous pictures of the Statue of Liberty. I felt like a tourist for most of the day, with a camera on my neck and a bag on my back. We only blended in on the ferry ride.

Central Park was next, and it was bursting with people. For a moment it reminded me of every second romantic comedy, but that quickly went away. A family carrying balloons seemed like a photo opportunity, so I pulled out my camera, which I had been hiding to shrug off the tourist look. When I looked up from it, everyone was gone. Of course I was by the carousel, where they could have gone a thousand different directions. I stayed where I was for a little while, and then moved sort of in circles around the direction I thought they went. Finally I caught sight of Thomas and Marie, and we were back on track. We found a spot under a cherry blossom tree to eat lunch. One of the girls sitting in front of us had the kind of sunglasses I’ve been looking everywhere for. Apparently she found them at “Forever 21,” a girlie store according to Lauren. I decided to take a look anyway.

After a long break under the tree, Thomas and Marie went to Coney Island while the rest of us tried to get into the Yankees game. After some struggles with the subway, we got to the stadium only to hear that the cheapest tickets left were $150. Lame-o. Instead, Julia, Beatrice and I explored a little while Bado and the Flanagans went back to start dinner.

More subway struggles brought us to the Bronx when we wanted Greenwich Village. We turned around and ended up in Chinatown, walked up 1st Avenue to get home to the Father’s Heart. All the patios were open on 1st, giving life to the place. People everywhere were talking, to each other and their pocket dogs. We got in, ate dinner, and Julia and I spent the evening talking about everything, rehashing the DTS.

Sunday began with something we as a team have not yet done together. We went to church. But not just any church; no, we went to one of the biggest churches in New York City, the Brooklyn Tabernacle. I expected a monstrous building with stain glass windows, but this place was more like a concert hall, like the Orpheum in Vancouver. We were told to get there an hour early in order to get seats. We showed up just as the service started. Surprisingly, there was space on the balcony, so we took it. We sang some songs, watched the 100+ voice choir sing some with a Grammy-winning guest, and heard a sermon about how great it is that we’re going to heaven. Everything felt like television.

After church we headed off to Times Square; one worship service to another. It is the loudest, most obtrusive place you will ever go. You have to close your eyes to not see someone selling you something. And the money and creativity put into it is astounding. Giant, video billboards specifically shaped to sell Coca-Cola and Budweiser beer. I sat on the red steps, dreaming of a cup of coffee on a comfy, old couch in a log cabin.

After finding some street-vending Mexican food (awesome), we headed to Ground Zero. There isn’t much to look at over there. Just a hole where they’re either still cleaning up or starting to build the new WTC. There is a memorial wall on the one side that really brings you back to that day in a serious way.

When we were done there, we moved on to Wall Street to see what was going down, so to speak. Not much. There was a giant American flag and a statue of George Washington. Photos were taken. We went home for a quiet evening together. Denny and I made some abstract whiteboard art.

Monday we started with Soho. It was supposed to be another cool, artsy neighborhood, but apparently the yuppies have taken over. Nothing sold there is affordable. We had planned to spend most of the day there, hanging out in some quaint cafe, but it was harder to come by than we had anticipated. We did find one called “Cafe Cafe,” but it was more of a breakfast place, and breakfast was over. We only spent an hour or so there before heading in toward the Empire State Building.

On the way there, Lauren and I decided it was time for new shoes. It was raining, and my Vans had holes in the soles. I think Lauren just wanted new shoes. After finding out we would have to sacrifice limbs in order to go up the Empire State Building ($20 each), we headed to Starbucks to use their bathrooms. I waited outside and had a guy try to sell me a bus tour. One of the best salesmen I’ve ever met. He had his not-only-that’s lined up, one after the other. He almost had me.

Denny, Dennis and Lauren went home after that while the rest of us went to the Art Students League to look at some art. It was just a one room exhibit, with the paintings and sculptures organized by teacher. There was some really good stuff in there, though. It looked like a good place for Fiona Moes.

On Tuesday we finally got down to business, visiting communities. We began with an Anglican Church called All Angels. They’ve got a great mix of people in their congregation, from the super-rich to the homeless. They host a pile of services in their building, from a soup kitchen to a free psychiatrist for the poor. It was cool to see normal church done well. Afterward we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, North America’s Luvre. Julia, Bado and I went through the Egyptian exhibit together before separating to enjoy other things. Of course, I went to the modern art and photography sections.

After the museum closed we all met up outside and moved on to Bruderhof, our second community. Amy, the woman who helped Denny find all these places, joined us for dinner there. Bruderhof is an international community a lot like the Orthodox Mennonites or the Huderites, except these guys have communities in some big cities, like New York. It was cool to see how they adapted to city life. In some ways, their idea of community actually works better in an urban setting, as was explained to us by Chris, one of the “house parents.” It helps them from becoming closed off from the outside culture, helps them be “in it,” but not “of it.” I had never really talked to anyone from a community like that because, well, most of them are cut off from everyone. It’s amazing how quickly your prejudices scatter once you actually meet with people and talk to them. By the end of the night, it all seemed so normal.

We started early on Wednesday, trying to get to Radical Living by 8:30. It took us a bit to find them, and we ended up being 15 minutes late. Except we were actually eleven hours and 45 minutes early, because we got our AMs and PMs mixed up. But someone came by and showed us around anyway, because these people know what hospitality means. Radical Living is a group of young professionals and volunteers who live together in Harlem. They eat together once a week, have a devotion time once a week, but most of their structure is focused on how to help the community around them. Some of them are in charge of hospitality (they have some extra rooms in their three apartments), and others try to find ways to help out the neighborhood. They all have their own jobs and their own churches, but they live under one roof. It looked like a realistic way of living out what we came to New York to learn about, building community in the city. It looked like something I could do.

We went straight from there to the Bronx Household of Faith, which has been doing its thing for 36 years. Bob, the guy who talked to us, started it with a friend and their wives with just one house. Now they have two houses back to back, a rehab centre for men and another building project, which will be a community centre/church, all on one block. After walking around the block and getting a cello concert from two of the seven children the one family adopted, we had some tea and coffee, and went on our way to the last stop of the day.

New Song Community Corporation started as a bible study in an apartment in Harlem. Now they’re a church, a health centre, a tutoring centre, a public computer lab, an affordable housing project, and soon, a restaurant. All in ten years. It helps to have some wealthy churches from the surrounding area funding them, but impressive nonetheless. One of the head pastors (I think his name is Robye) talked to us about how they started and what the vision was. They purposefully limited their reach to a ten-block radius, a real community church. It sounds like a really cool place. If I ever move to New York, I think I’ll move to Harlem and join them.

Thursday was our last real day in New York. We began with a trip to the Catholic Worker. We got to “The Brother House” or something like that, where we met up with Amy, who brought us to “the Sister House.” It seems that no one knew we were coming, even though Denny spoke to someone on the phone weeks ago who told us to come at 11:00. Things get like that around the Catholic Worker apparently. The lady we spoke with had this peculiar calmness to her. She told us how the Catholic Worker got started (Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin writing a newspaper about social justice for NYC), and what they’re doing now (feeding and housing the poor, dressing up as Guatanamo Bay prisoners in front of Capitol Hill, etc). All this while the cat walked all over the table. Amy said later that people say it’s a miracle the Catholic Worker has lasted so long because of how disorganized it is. So there is hope for me.

After a very memorable meeting with the Catholic Worker, we took the rest of the day to get our fill of the city. Julia and I finally found Greenwich Village. Some of the giants have moved in, but the neighbourhood hasn’t completely lost its flavour. After finding the book I’ve been looking for in Barnes & Noble, we sat in a nice place for some great coffee. We took some more pictures on our way back for dinner and a meeting with Amy. She wanted our input about the places and to know what we had learned. It was a great way to debrief everything. After she left, Julia, Pierre, Denny, Lauren, Thomas, Marie and I all went out to one of the local pubs for a drink and fellowship. The sign said “live jazz.” We got Oasis ’80s covers, but we weren’t complaining. The walls were covered with famous faces. We had a good time.

We woke up early on Friday, and went home on the bus with new ideas and shoes.

silence.

We went to Dunham again last week to learn about spiritual disciplines from a guy named Jeff Pratt. He’s part of “Axiom New Monastic Community” in New Haven, Connecticut. Right now there’s an arts and music themed DTS finishing their lecture phase in Dunham. Some pretty cool folk from all over. Australia to Barbados to Denmark. Impressive. I brought my saxophone and we jammed. I hadn’t played like that in a long time. Just let go. My lips were rubber by the end.

At first, the lectures seemed alright, nothing to special. Jeff knew how to speak, but almost too well, you know? It felt practiced. And I’m not a big fan of sentimental stories. But as the week went on, I noticed there was something behind all that. I haven’t really started any of the spiritual disciplines he spoke about very seriously. I try to read my Bible every morning during and/or after breakfast, but it only happens half the time. And although I do pray, it’s not something I’ve scheduled into my life. I only pray when I feel like it. There’s definitely no discipline to it. And that’s only two out of the ten that Jeff brought up. Fellowship I think I’ve got down alright. I know how to fellowship with people. But things like fasting and meditation, I simply don’t do. It just never comes to my attention. Jeff definitely helped me see the lack of discipline in my life.

After a week of talking about all that, along with some stories from Jeff’s crazy life, we had a silent retreat. Jeff explained what that meant on Friday evening and on Saturday we went at it. From about 10 to 5 in the afternoon, no one spoke. Jeff gave us some questions and ideas to run with, and we all found our own spots on the enormous property YWAMDunham owns. At first I thought of finding some place on a fire escape or the roof, but I didn’t want to be seen by anyone. I didn’t want to be “the guy on the roof,” that was distracting someone. Plus, from those high places, there’s a lot to look at and get distracted from. So I walked around the building. I saw the wood shack (Dunham is heated by a huge wood-burning furnace), and thought it would be funny to sit in there. I haven’t read the book “the Shack,” and don’t really plan on it. I have an immediate aversion to popular books. Except for “Blue Like Jazz” maybe. I liked that one. But popular fiction just doesn’t really interest me. I realize that that is a a gigantic generalization, but I don’t really care. They’re just stories.

But anyway, I sat down in the shack. It was way too distracting in there. For one, the log I sat on tipped constantly. And I could smell and hear the kitchen. And then people started walking by. So I left. Earlier I had a picture in my head of a perfect spot across the road in the forest, so I went to look for it. There were so many people in the forest. I had to cross two creeks and got my shoes all muddy before I finally found a spot where I couldn’t see anyone. I came to a waste-high stone wall and as I stepped onto it, I realized that I’m a fence-sitter. I mean, in a lot of ways, I’m a pretty non-commital person. I have a hard time making decisions. So that was my confession: ‘God, sorry for sitting on fences. Help me commit to truth and goodness and all that is holy.’ That kind of thing. Then I stepped over and kept going.

I came to another stone wall that probably connected to the one I had just climbed over, and thought it would be ironic if after that moment back there I found a spot on the wall, so I sat down. I started to mull over everything that had happened to me and all that I had learned while in Quebec. I started thinking about that week, and what we had been discussing during the lectures. On Thursday or Friday, Jeff asked us to find something in our spiritual lives that was lacking and to pray about it. I had chosen trust. Because of some crap that happened to me in the past couple years, I’ve been having a tough time trusting God. So I was thinking about that. And all of a sudden I got something, an impression. But it was different than most impressions, I get impressions all the time. This one had a closeness to it that I had never felt before. A “Sufjan Stevens” closeness, you know? Bands like Coldplay and Kings of Leon use a lot of reverb to make it sound like they’re in a cave or a church or a stadium or something. Sufjan Stevens sounds like he’s two inches from your ear, like he actually lives in your speakers. This is why Jon denHaan doesn’t like him, makes him feel claustrophobic. This is exactly why I love him. Anyway, this impression. It was super close, it was loud. It said, “I trust you.” Wow. I never thought of it that way. God trusts us. He trusts us with a lot. And being given this realization has helped me put my trust in Him more. So I had a little moment there in the woods with my God. Then I got another impression. It said, “go eat lunch.” So I did.

Not much else happened for the rest of the day. I spent the rest of it doing odds and ends while I thought about Jesus and the woods. We watched “the Breakfast Club” that evening or the next. I don’t really remember. Played some indoor soccer in their wicked awesome gym (remember the pictures?). I played a mean keeper. Nothing got past me. I was lord of my domain. It was a good game. Good week.

To you Dunhamites, I hope to see you all again some day. You are wonderful people. But if we don’t, or if it doesn’t happen for a very long time, you can always come on here and read the story about our awesome week. Except that this was all about me, so you can read about my awesome week, which would not have been half as awesome without you. Peace. Until we meet again.

rebel.

rebel.

“Run with the little guy… create some change.” – every Jones Soda bottle.

The list: 1. Dunhamites. 2. “Make Your Own Kind of Music,” by Mama Cass Elliot. 3. “Just Drums,” by Tapes n’ Tapes. 4. “Modern World,” by Wolf Parade. 5. “Grown Men Don’t Fall in the River Just Like That,” by Liars. 6. “Blasphemy,” by Miracle Fortress. 7. “Save Your Day,” by José Gonzà lez. 8. “Magic Doors,” by Portishead. 9. “Navy Nurse,” by the Fiery Furnaces. 10. “Innocent Bones,” by Iron & Wine. 11. “Go To Sleep (Little Man Being Erased),” by Radiohead. 12. Anger vs. Hunger. 13. “Eraser,” by No Age. 14. “My Generation,” by the Who. 15. “Knock Knock,” by the Hives. 16. “But it’s not true!” Ida said. 17. “Maggie’s Farm,” by Bob Dylan. 18. “Rotten Hell,” by Menomena. “Soft Revolution,” by Stars. “Windowsill,” by the Arcade Fire. “All the Wild Horses,” by Ray LaMontagne.

Thank you Darrell for that last one. Thank you Bibliotheque et Archive nationales du Quebec for the Portishead.

hamilton (the hammer).

I went anyway. I figured people are more important than obligations, especially people who are good friends, like Jenna.

Most of this story was already written, but wordpress decided it wasn’t worth saving, even though I actually pressed the save button to make sure it was saved. I would be pulling my hair out right now, but I’m using my hands to type. I might skip some stuff, just because I’m running low on patience.

So yeah, I went. I’ll save you the trouble of reading about the bus ride there. Not much happened. I finished my book, “Sophie’s World.” It’s a novel about the history of philosophy. Needless to say, I liked it.

My friendship with Jenna pretty much consists of numerous text messaging and the occasional moment on skype. So we texted ourselves to each other when I got to Toronto, did the whole hug off, and I met her/our friend Jenn. The original plan was to book it back to Hamilton to hang out at the bar Jenna works at, but Jenn wanted us to stay in Toronto, so we did. We had a great time. Went back to Jenn’s amazingly cheap apartment in relation to location, talked music and life a little, and then hit the streets. Jenn’s DJ friend was supposed to be doing something at this place “Campus Club” or something like that, so we headed in that direction. But it didn’t look worth the $5 cover so we left. The event organizer was a sworn enemy of Jenna’s or something like that, plus the bouncers looked more like chaperones. We walked for awhile and then Jenn remembered this place called “the Boat” that sometimes played ’50s music, so we went to go take a look. When we got there they were playing African tribal music, people were flinging their limbs all over the place, and the guy who asked for our ID looked like a back-alley Robert Plant. Also not worth $5. So we just went home to Jenn’s. We had a good time anyway, hey girls? It was great.

In the morning, Jenn fed us bagels and fruit and we headed out the door (but not before I nearly forgot all my bags in her apartment). Jenna and I took the bus to Hamilton and walked to her place, which is in a neighborhood a lot like yours was here, Mom. Maybe it was… (duhn, duhn, DUNNNNNN!!!) Anyway, we hung out there for awhile, overcooked some french fries, watched “Almost Famous,” and generally had a good time. That evening we relaxed in the hot tub until her/our friends Scott and Jesse showed up to go ddddancing. I don’t remember the name of the place we went to, but it wasn’t too bad. As always, the first few moments were awkward. Apparently I missed this in Toronto, but if you go out on the town with Jennalane, chances are you will bump into someone she knows. This was definitely true at the place we went to. Everywhere we turned, she was talking to someone new. I couldn’t keep up, so I didn’t bother. It took a bit for me to warm up, but I ended up legitimately getting my dance on. It helped that Scott and Jesse dance a lot like I do; you know, shaking limbs and having fun. Later on, these two scantily clad women who had these chochy guys around them were dancing near us and joined the fun. It was a little weird, but we rolled with it.

We went to Jenna’s church in the morning. Her CanRef friends Justine and Catherine picked us up and we headed on out. Justine got pulled over on the highway for speeding, but the cop was really nice. Only gave her a small ticket. It helped that we told him where we were going I think. Jenna goes to a Pentacostal Church, so the worship time was pretty great. Her pastor, who she apparently loves, wasn’t there so we had a guest speaker. She was pretty nuts. To wrap it all up nicely, she pretty much said not to listen to all this fear-mongering about the economy and to trust in God. She also prophesied that it would be a good year for the church financially, which was pretty interesting. I’m not really used to that kind approach on a Sunday morning, so it was a little difficult to understand. But I came out unscathed. We had a good chat about speaking in tongues afterward. Overall, a challenging but nurturing way to spend a Sunday. Not too shabby.

We lazed about pretty heavily for the rest of the day. Jenna’s pretty-much-adoptive sister Breanne came by with her boyfriend from Georgia, who doesn’t sound at all like he’s from Georgia by the way. We chatted a bit, and then they drove us to the bus station. She came with me to Toronto, we talked about when we will ever see each other again, and then parted ways as I got on the bus. It wasn’t too bad on the way home. An army guy sat beside me till Kensington, and then I got to stretch out and get some sleep. I didn’t get to Montreal till 3:45 in the morning. The station’s in a pretty shady part of town, but I tried to walk up rue St. Denis anyway to try to catch a night bus. Saw some pretty creepy and/or drunk folk on the way, so after watching a bus drive by, I found a cab. It was warm inside and the driver was nice. My broken French and his broken English got us by. I went home and slept.

The End.

weekends.

Has Thursday now been engulfed into the weekend? It sure seemed that way last weekend. Thursday night I went to choir practice (I joined the gospel choir at River’s Edge, my church here) and afterward went out with Michelle, Sarah and Cemba (is that how you spell it? Let me know). We went to “The Irish Embassy,” an Irish pub on rue Bishop, and met up with Michelle’s friend Ian and had a blast. Sarah and I found out that we’re both Dutch. Pretty awesome. She’s from Calgary. I haven’t asked her about whether she knows the Jagers yet. I’ll do that tomorrow. After the pub, we went for poutine at this awesome little hole in the ground. Michelle drove us around, so I don’t really know where this place was, but it was great. A real mom&pop kind of place. Added bonus: they were playing the Stephan Colbert Report on the TV. I didn’t pay much attention to it because we were too busy laughing about I don’t remember what, but it was good to see. It was a good time. We will repeat after practice tomorrow.

Friday night was equally as exciting and with completely different people. Dave, a new friend from church, was playing the drums for his friend’s band at this fundraiser, so Julia, her man Michael and I went to go see. They were raising money to raise awareness about (primarily native) women who had gone missing in the city. The whole thing was in this loft in the middle of an industrial area. Exactly what you picture when you think ‘artsy loft concert.’ Open room, used furniture, white walls with odd art displayed, paint peeling of the ceiling, make-shift bar in the back by the barred windows; you get the picture. The first girl who performed was actually really good. She played some sweet folk tunes of her own. I think she picked up a new instrument for every song. Pretty great. After her, it got a little weird. Dave had warned me that the band he was drumming for was really dark and strange. They weren’t the only ones. At one point, a women was birthed from a sheet/womb wrapped in red ribbon. Some native women drummed and sang some traditional songs, that was pretty cool. A girl played the keyboard and sang her songs. She kind of reminded me of Rachel Boldt, but not half as good. Then Dave’s band played.

They were all wearing “wigs.” If Mozart’s wig was thrown together in five minutes, it would look like some of these. Someone had written a story about animal creatures rebellion against man or something like that, and it was displayed on a slide or two. The instruments included electro-noise, improvised guitar, Dave banging away, and four girls sing/yelling at the top of their lungs. Dave and the girls sounded surprisingly good. The others could have used some melody. I suggested a bari-sax. Something to fill out the sound a little more. Oh, and then there were the dancers. We had one guy with a cardboard deer strapped to his back and two people with paper mache heads on top of their heads. Pretty creepy. At one point, the deer guy was under a net, and the extra head people were killing it or something. I’m not sure.

Saturday night was Michael’s last night here before heading back to Germany, so Julia, he and I went to the Casa del Popolo to see what was going on there. Nothing was going on there. Well, they had a dj who mixed Steve Miller Band in with his electronica. I sang along. Other than that, we just sat and talked a little. I like that place. I feel pretty comfortable there.

I showed up to church at 12:11 on Sunday. The service starts at 11:11. You get the picture. Pastor Lorenzo was away, so they had filmed him preaching and were showing it up on their screens. Couldn’t they have just gotten a visiting preacher or something? I couldn’t concentrate. Too busy deciding which screen to watch. Afterward I went with Dominique, another church friend, and some other people to a greek restaurant. The conversation never went past other restaurants, the terrible service at the one we were at, and where everyone was from. I spent the last 20 minutes planning my escape.

That pretty much covers everything. This week we have Marc from GBU (the French version of Intervarcity) teaching us about apologetics. It gets better as the week passes. Kind of a hard things to talk about when everyone in the room believes in God, but it’s not too bad.

Oh, I almost forgot. Crappy deal. You remember Jenna, the one that almost died in that bus accident. Well she’s going through the “now or never” part of recovery and wanted me to come visit in Ontario this weekend. She was even willing to fork over the cash for the bus ride and everything. I was really stoked to go, and then I realized the choir was singing this Sunday. Emailed the choir director and explained the situation (friend almost died and wants me to come visit, could I skip out on Sunday), and she said no. Lame. Super lame. I’m going next weekend instead. But this weekend worked out so well otherwise. It sucks. I’ll live. We’ll live Jennalane. See you next weekend. I’ll still talk to Carol, try to convince her. Not making any promises though.

alive.

My friend Jenna from Hamilton was on this bus. They told her she might die. Right now she’s in a hotel room with a bruised wrist.

Read the news story here

Sooner or later she’ll write her own story of what happened here.

Man, God is on your side Jenna. There’s no other explination.

share.

share.

I’m going to talk about this morning. Last night was La Nuit Blanche, a city-wide all nighter. There were free or cheap events happening all over the city, and we took part with a few people from Dunham, the other YWAM base we went to in December. We didn’t get home till 4:30 am. I was not planning to go to church.

Then Bado’s love-interest called at 9:30 and woke both of us up. I decided it was divine intervention and got cleaned up. Man, am I happy I did. I guess mostly because I was there alone, I ended up sitting beside Dave, a guy I met there last week, and we ended up talking during the break (we always have a coffee break before the sermon) and afterward. He’s a drummer too, and we have similar taste in music. We’re going to get together some time this week. Pretty exciting.

More importantly, it was announced in front that River’s Edge will be helping fund a café ministry in the city. The woman starting it said it looks like it won’t be opening till June, but I went over afterward and talked to her anyway. She said I could possibly help her get things started and could definitely look at their business plan and learn from what they’re doing. Awesome. Internship, here I come.

Now that I’ve shared, it’s your turn! I am in a predicament. I still need to pay $1500 to YWAM. I currently have just over $200. I need money pretty badly. God has pulled through here so far, and I believe he will bless me further by taking care of this situation. But if I’ve learned anything here in Montreal, it’s that God often blesses people through other people. If your heart says “yes,” be that person. It would make me happy.

Send to: 1204 boul St. Joseph Montreal QC H2J 1L6. Merci mes amis, merci.

Oh right, the list.

  1. Strangers, The Kinks (from Lola vs. Powerman and the Moneyground, Part 1).
  2. Teen Creeps, No Age (from Nouns).
  3. Canadian Girl, The Walkmen (from You & Me).
  4. Sesame Street’s Two-Headed Monster shares (from Youtube).
  5. The New Pollution, Beck (from Odelay).
  6. For Corners, Digable Planets (from Blowout Comb).
  7. Yer Blues, The Beatles (from the White Album).
  8. Set You Free, The Black Keys (from Thickfreakness).
  9. The German (Something Came Up), Richard Swift (from Richard Swift as Onasis).
  10. Secret Heart, Feist (from Let It Die).
  11. Summertime Clothes, Animal Collective (from Merriweather Post Pavilion).
  12. So Jealous, Tegan and Sara (from So Jealous).
  13. Soul Love, David Bowie (from the Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars).
  14. High Fidelity, Daft Punk (from Homework).
  15. Like a Rolling Stone, Bob Dylan (from Highway 61 Revisited).
  16. Which Will, Nick Drake (from Pink Moon).
  17. Source Tags & Codes, …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead (from Source Tags & Codes).

direction.

It has been too long, people. Too much has happened. I might miss some significant things. And this may also be quite long.

Two weeks ago we had a speaker come in named Dave Skene. He’s one of the head YWAMCanada guys and just recently moved onto Commercial Drive in Vancouver with his wife. Cool dude. He talked about justice with us the whole week. Reminded me of a lot of the things I was concerned with in high school, like how the North American normal way of life destroys the rest of the world. The problems just kept piling up, and we all felt overwhelmed. But on Thursday he got us to think of what things bothered us the most. Out of all the problems and injustice in the world, what bugged us personally? What punched us in the gut? We were told to write them down and share if we felt so inclined. Here’s what I said made me angry:

things that cause me pain
•   when evil is done in God’s name
o   sexual abuse from religious leaders
o   colonization
o   crusades
o   rejection of homosexuals and other people with “alternative” lifestyles
o   things that throw Jesus’ name in the dirt
•   manipulation
•   organized, intentional corruption

He woke something up that was sleeping. Thanks Dave.

One night at Cremazie, he and I had a two or three hour strong conversation about cafes and the like. He had been thinking about opening one awhile back, and had piles of information to share. Made me want to learn how to roast my own beans. We will definitely see each other again. I’ll see to that.

Not much happened last week until Friday, when Nick showed up. That was awesome, hey Nick? Hadn’t seen you in a long time! I went to pick him up at the airport, but got awful directions from google maps, and ended up at the Boeing and Air Canada headquarters instead. Ended up in the middle of nowhere at some bus stop by a mall when Nick called me and said that he had taken the bus to Station Centrale and where does he need to go now. I kind of told him what was going on (there were a lot of loud teenagers around, so I couldn’t really properly speak to him) and to meet me at the metro station named “Sauvé.” Twenty minutes after he got there, I showed up and we hugged and grabbed his stuff. After getting him all nestled in, we went out and had our first public beer together as brothers. A good bonding experience.

What did we do on Saturday, Nick? I don’t remember. It was so long ago now. Right. We went walking around Le Plateau. I showed you where Matt Gee lives and then we went to some cool record shops. That punk one was especially cool, with it’s fair trade coffee. We talked shop with the owner there. He advised us to stay out of the music retail industry. I’ll think about it.

On Sunday, Bado and I were singing in the choir at church, so we had to be there early. Nick went with Julia and her boyfriend Michael and we saw them from the stage. In case I haven’t said this already, Bado and I joined the gospel choir at the church we’re going to, River’s Edge. We heard them at Christmas, and immediately both of us wanted to join. They were low on men and were asking for some to step up, so that’s what we did. During practices, I found it difficult to get into the spirit of it all, but once we got on stage and were actually praising the Lord with it, I couldn’t contain myself. I got really into it. More than I usually do. It was a great experience. And the sermon that week was awesome, too. Another butt kicker. Apparantly I need a lot of those.

Other things Nick and I did before Evelyn showed up on Thursday: we went walking around Old Montreal, found a cool gallery where people were painting black and white cartoons all over the walls, we walked up Mont Royal and took some pictures in the cloudy weather, watched a couple movies, drank some more beer, ate at Frites Alors!, bonded. All in all, a good week. A memorable week.

On Thursday I had volunteering to do. I’m helping teach a little girl how to read Braille, and for the first time she started reading words. I didn’t even understand how incredible this was until her teacher found out and went nuts and got all teary-eyed. It was pretty exciting, I must admit. Oh, and I brought my saxophone to play for all the kids. The little girl (I’m not supposed to give them names on the internet) got to come into the class I’m in when I’m not with her and listen. It was pretty fun.

Afterward, I went to Cremazie to pick up some laundry I had done earlier in the week, when I saw Nick busking in the metro station there. So naturally, I put my stuff down and joined him for a couple songs. Then some guy came by and showed us the hidden schedule, so we sang a few more while he waited for his violinist, and then ran off home to talk to Glenn Davies on ichat.

Glenn is Darrell’s best friend Drew’s dad. He’s planting a church and starting a cafe/bookstore in Squamish. He wants a few young people to join him and help get the new student community there to feel comfortable in his space. Nick and I want to go help him out for a couple years. We have this crazy dream of owning our own cafe/book etc. shop some day, and think this is an awesome opportunity to gain some experience. I’m excited about it. It will give me a perfect way of using what I’ve learned here. Glenn and his son seem pretty keen on it too. God is tying up loose ends, giving us direction.

That evening Evelyn showed up on our doorstep. A great moment: I get a call, asking for a reminder of what my address is. I say, “6979″ and get an, “Aw crap,” on the other end of the line. By this time I’m heading toward the door as I correct myself, “Sorry no, 9679,” I say, as I look at Evelyn through the window of the door, open it, and give her a big hug as she waves off her relatives and says, “Merci.” The three of us laughed about it for a little while, got her settled in, and went back to that micro-brewery that Dan and I went to when he came in December. It was super full in there, but we managed to get a table and had an awesome time there catching up. Apparently she and Fiona are going to Guatemala as soon as I come back? That kind of sucks. But you guys are going to have an awesome time serving. I really believe in this trip of yours. You will bless and be blessed more than you know.

Friday we DTS students inconveniently had to help out at the food bank. From 8:00 to 4:00. Evelyn and Nick spent the day shopping mostly, from what I was told, but I ended up having a great time filling big boxes with small boxes. No really, it was surprisingly fun. It was like building puzzles all day long. Plus they have thrift clothes there and I got a new cardigan for $5. It is pretty cool. The lady that was telling us what to do all day was awesome. She had this cackle that’s still ringing in my ears and the strongest Quebecois accent I’ve ever heard for an extended period of time. Pretty awesome.

Friday night was an adventure. Nick heard of this “A Gogo Lounge” from Elliot, so we went out to find it. We had looked it up on Google Maps, but obviously didn’t pay enough attention, because we made every wrong turn we could have. We had called Matt earlier so he could join us, so we had to text a couple times to make sure he wasn’t waiting for us. Once we got there someone (I won’t mention names) realized she forgot her ID at the apartment. So we went all the way back, Nick ran and got the ID while Ev and I stayed back at the metro station, and went back, only to be ushered without glance by a different bouncer. The place was just like how Elliot and the internet had described it, except with less old music than I was hoping for. It was pretty packed, but we noticed a few people getting up to leave, so we quickly snagged their table. There was a lot of people watching/outfit critiquing going on while we chose our drinks and waited for Matt. I get a text saying that he had been waiting in a nearby gas station and that he was on his way, and finally we see him out the window, waiting in line. Ten minutes later he calls me. I can’t hear a word, so I go to the closet-sized bathroom, only to hear him say that the place only lets people 21 and older in. He gives me a message for Nick, and as I sit down he waves goodbye through the window. It was a sad moment. I kind of felt bad for not just leaving and finding some other place, but he left kind of quickly. One thing we did realize, though. If we had been ID’d the second time, Nick and Evelyn wouldn’t have made it in either. We decided we would take advantage of their blunder and order another round.

Saturday morning, Nick woke me up at 6:30 to say goodbye. I got up, helped him carry his stuff to the door, we had a good hug, and he was off. I went back to sleep.

I had been noticing a cold coming on Friday night. By Saturday morning it was a pretty drastic sinus infection, but that didn’t stop Ev and me from going out for breakfast at the Chez Cora, did it Ev! Yum. That’s all I have to say. That morning was one of the best. Great food, great company, great conversation, just awesome all around. It’ll go down in the books, despite the stuffy nose. Afterward we head the the Musee des Beaux Arts to see some awesome, Dutch art from Vandogen. If you don’t know (I didn’t) he was a good friend of Picasso. It doesn’t really come out in his paintings, but they were buds. Most of his stuff revolves around women. Some of it was simply amazing. The guy could paint. There were a few moments where we both kind of questioned his view of women, but you couldn’t deny the gift. Pretty awesome.

Afterward we were both pretty pooped, and I was feeling a lot worse, so we just came back to the apartment, cooked/burned some turnip fries and watched “The Darjeeling Limited,” one of my favorites. I love that movie. Such a feel gooder. We enjoyed ourselves tremendously.

Sunday morning I woke up super early (we had gone to be at 9:45 or something) and read before making coffee. Ev woke up at 5:45, we drank our joe, and headed out the door with her stuff. Did the big hug-off at the bus station, and I went back to the apartment to sleep off a really bad cold. I woke up just in time for a sermon, so I went to church. Just around the corner from the church some lady tried to get a parking spot and ended up getting stuck on a piece of ice. I tried to help her, ended up in the driver’s seat (hadn’t done that in almost six months) and then two other guys came by and we got it out of there. I saw her later at church. After the service, I talked to one of the guy’s I’ve seen drumming there, along with his friend, and then of course Julia and Michael. We went to a cool cafe a block away from the church that we had been wanting to go to. Pretty cool place. And they had all Jack White’s music playing on shuffle, which was a bonus.

That was pretty much it. I went home and slept after that. The cold is gone now. It’s already been almost a week since then, but I’m tired, and if I went into this week too, I’d have to call this a book and get an editor and everything, and I’m just not in the mood.

play!

play.

Don’t take yourself so seriously!

Andrew Bird â™ Dark Matter ♣ Sufjan Stevens ♥ Godzuki/Super Sexy Woman ♦ Nada Surf â™ Happy Kid ♣ The Magician ♥ Indicator Stop Bath ♦ Dr. Dog â™ The Old Days ♣ The Who ♥ The Kids Are Alright ♦ The Band â™ Ain’t Got No Home ♣ Belle & Sebastian ♥ Judy & the Dream of Horses ♦ BOAT â™ I’m a Donkey for Your Love ♣ M.I.A. ♥ Mango Pickle Down River ♦ Broken Social Scene â™ Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl ♣ The Arcade Fire ♥ Wake Up ♦ The Brunettes â™ If Your Were Alien ♣ Weezer ♥ In the Garage ♦ The Kinks â™ Picture Book ♣ The Langley Schools Music Project ♥ Sweet Caroline ♦ I’m From Barcelona â™ Treehouse ♣