Doug Van Pelt

Post Gig Elation

There's not much like the post-gig feeling of elation. I didn't exactly feel it when our performance was over in the church tonight; but once I put the car into gear and headed out of the parking lot, it hit me. There's a great light feeling of having the weight, pressure, and anxiety of the performance is lifted. I feel something like this after finishing an issue of HM Magazine, driving home after having sent the last PDF file over the net to the printer's server. But this is different. This is kinda like the high felt after a high school football game. It's part satisfaction and part relief. I sure dig that feeling. Right after a performance, like this one, for instance, you have that self-analysis -- going over mistakes or ways in which you might've ad-libbed or improvise in the midst of a song. You can't really stop a song when you make a mistake -- you've got to just plow through the song and try your best to keep it going as if there was no mistake. Unless the audience knows a song better than you, they don't notice a mistake.

Tonight was that way. It was fun to rehearse for a single run-through in a small room that'll be future church office digs. Right as the performer before us (a young girl wailing on some Aretha and Maria Carey) started her last song, we had the sound manager going over stuff with us. And there was a dog. This black labrador was back there, walking around, wagging his tail, smelling us and getting petted. Very funny yet strange. It was fun to experience the whole pre-concert jitters with my friend Allen. Two guys he met at Starbucks were fun to be around, too. As things got close, it was a building anticipation of what was about to begin. Performance anxiety set in. I prayed under my breath as I took the stage, setting out my camera (which would be aprop during the second song, situating my man-bag and making sure my 9-year old daughter had a place to sit. She wanted to be with me before I went on and watch the show from the side/back. I sat her down on the keyboardist's stool. I was excited to start the song, but part of me wanted to hold it back and not begin. It was too late to back and we went went right into it. All the rehearsing (which, for me, was one rehearsal and listening to a CD recording of the rehearsal in my car yesterday and today to and from work) had to do its work and let the song either be familiar or strange. As best I could, I let it go and relied on the training I gave to my memory -- remembering the words and when to come in.

I had the Tony Romo arm going on. I had the lyrics printed on a piece of paper that was taped together like a cone or giant armband. It was my cheatsheet; and even though I didn't want to, I had to rely on it tonight during each song. I felt a tad behind the first song, and was guessing on when to come back into the chorus after the guitar solo. I was kinda lost, but I think I guessed right and flew through that one. I gave a brief intro to the second song ("Very, Very Christian," which had a memorable vocal hook), and that felt kinda weird, too. It was almost like I was aware of myself to an nth degree -- 'This isn't practice anymore, you've got to fly.' Again, I kept the meter and tempo of the song, though I had to make up lyrics on the spot when they weren't there for the next line. No one but me, apparently, knew that. Even our guitar player didn't know. The recording of the show, though, is not something I'm looking forward to hearing.

Part of me is embarrassed, but the stronger part doesn't really care. It was fun. And it's over. I'm glad. The high is over now, but it's still nice to have this thing I've been preparing for to be done.

Shelijahn Returns (sort of)!!!

Here's what I'm singing tonight:

Boulevard fashion - rumble seat romance
Back seat passion - everybody needs a chance
To keep your heart gunnin' - to keep your meter runnin'
Keep your hands to yourself - you can't have me and nobody else

1st chorus:
Give it all you've got
never gonna stop
get serious!

Time is running out
now is when you shout
Get serious!

2nd chorus:
Get serious - when your ship comes in
Get serious - when you think it's a sin
Get serious - when you're all burned out
Get serious - now is when you shout

Oh my! Now all I need is a can of Aqua Net and hair -- lots of hair.

The second song is kind of fun 'n' funny. It's called (I think "Very Very Christian"). You could call it "Very Cherry Blistex" maybe.

It goes like this:

I like the way she walks
And I like the way she talks
You say she's what you need
Satis-faction guaran-teed
You don't know what's goin' on in your mind
And what you're thinkin's just way outta line

'Cause she's very, very Christian
Very, very Christian
She's very, very Christian
Very, very

Pretty fun.
Memorizing lyrics that someone else has written is kind of a challenge. So is doing all of this with one rehearsal. It should be okay, though. It'll be a great memory, I'm sure. Who else can say: "I sang vocals for two songs written and performed by a band that opened for Barren Cross back in the day?" ha ha

If you're in Austin and want to humiliate me and hurl wadded up paper at me, this shindig is at Calvary Austin at 7pm. We go on somewhere in the middle. The place is located on Old Main Street or 1825 in Pflugerville. (that's right, we are an "Austin" church located in Pflugerville...did you seriously want our church to be called Calvary Pflugerville now?)

Random Larry Norman stories [2]

I had a chance to meet Larry's dad up in Omaha, Nebraska. Joe Norman was about as thoughtful and easy to talk to as his son. In one of the conversations I had with Joe, I remember chatting about the Scripture that lists 7 things God hates. He asked me what I thought one of those things was. "Prideful look." He said he thought a prideful look (listed as "haughty eyes" in some translations) was the look that some people (pretty much all of us, I'd think) give when they pass their reflection on the side of a building, car, etc. "I think that's a good example of a prideful look," Joe said. For some reason, that conversation has stayed stuck in my memory.

Another Larry story is one that is so bizarre, I don't think I'd believe it if I wasn't a first-hand witness. I was talking to Larry in a large auditorium after a concert he played in Houston, Texas. This was around 1984 and the band Vision (featuring former members of Lynyrd Skynyrd -- Leon Wilkerson and Billy Powell) opened for him. We were visiting and a lady walked up and told him that his daughter was blind, but she could see when they played Larry's music for her. She asked for an autograph, explaining that it would mean a lot to her daughter. Larry politely apologized: "I'm sorry. I used to live in Hollywood and that whole scene really turned me off to autographs, celebrity-ism and such." This lady had told him that her blind daughter saw when she listened to Larry's music and yet Larry still refused her autograph request. Ha ha ha. That still blows my mind. I think he gave her an album or something, but he didn't budge on the autograph thing.

PS By the way, my friend John Thompson just started a blog ('tis about time!) and his first was a tribute to Larry Norman.

PSS Another Larry story is one that is not my own. A good friend named Charles Gates volunteered to drive Larry from the Chicago Airport to the Cornerstone Festival one year. I'm going to guess that it was 1989 (the last year the fest was up at Grayslake, IL). He carried Larry's suitcase into his hotel room and the over-stuffed case burst open when he tossed it onto the bed. Guess what popped out? The 2-inch master tapes of the legendary Daniel Amos album, Horrendous Disc. Strange tales, indeed...

Eddie Van Rigg

I am typing this with one knee on our church sanctuary's stage, while my pastor wails through a marshall. I'm about to start "jamming" on a couple of his old 80s metal band songs. The band was Shelijan. The songs were "Get Serious" and "Very Very Christian." Oh my...did he ask the wrong guy to sing(?!) or what!? James, the Starbucks barista on drums, is definitely taller than Shelijan's original drummer -- Karl Ney (who later played for Guardian).




Now I am in the office the next morning. I'm tired. That was fun last night, but what in the world am I doing singing old 80s metal tunes?! Oh boy. Oh my...




I am digging the ramblings of the fellow bloggers from the bloggers' tour. Seems as if we are all battling/processing/experiencing the "re-entry" phase of seeing suffering, poverty, crisis (yet actual help, aid, and care yielding results) upclose and personal. It's not always easy going back to the grocery store and seeing shelf after shelf of food and remembering that the best meal most kids had at a project on a daily basis was a mug of porage. We have so much, they have so little. It takes awhile to grasp that. I'm not sure it ever settles in. David Kuo references Bono's experience of compartmentalizing Africa and its memories. We're all kind of broken and figuring out ways to explain it, respond to it, and so on. Acknowledging you're "wrecked" is one thing. Learning to walk anew with your "heart limp" is another. Shannon talks about a type of "survivor's guilt" that she's feeling. I made a joke about what our group is going through, referencing the movie Waitress, saying that Jenna would have made us a pie that was called "We Can't Forget The Poverty We Saw And We Wouldn't If We Could Pie." I don't think anyone liked my joke, though.


By the way, if you'd like to help release one child from the ravages of poverty by sponsoring a child, go here.

Whoa! I never meant to brag, but I've got him where I want him now...

I hope and plan never to make this mistake:


http://music.yahoo.com/read/news/57525729


Speaking of Maxim, not many people can say that a photo of their mom ran in Maxim Magazine. 'Tis true. Many years ago I got word that the risque men's magazine (can you say "soft porn?) ran a review of The Mother Of All Tribute Albums in an article they ran about tribute albums. It was quite an honor to be included in there. On the cover of the album is a photo of my dear, sweet mother. The entire CD's packaging includes photos of all the mothers of the artists involved. Kind of a fun album. I wish it would've got better distribution, more press, and not had sales unpaid by the fraudulent distribution company. I won't name any names, but I will say Avalon Music Distribution. I'm not bitter, but my mouth does taste like limes right now.

My return trip home [Uganda.40]

When we pulled up to the driveway (a few hours earlier than originally planned, thanks to some room on a plane via stand-by), one of my daughters bolted out of the door in an over-sized yellow t-shirt. My other daughter behind her was wearing one, too. It was a joyous moment. The hugs were intense, tightly clenched, and long. The shirts were funny. They're 27 years old. They say in large black letters: "Doug Van Pelt Fan Club." My entire family used to sit together and wear them to my high school football games. So corny, but really neat. On this trip, it was ironic, because one of the lessons I learned in Africa was that the world revolved around me. This is a problem, of course, because that is not the axis upon which the world should spin. And so I was greeted with a very ego-centric t-shirt upon arrival. I had to laugh inside.

Vintage Larry Norman

"Song For A Small Circle Of Friends"


"Readers Digest" and "God Part iii" (accompanied by Mike Roe)







If you haven't listened to Larry's music before ... or if it's been a real long time, might I suggest checking it out. My favorites would start at So Long Ago The Garden and/or Only Visiting This Planet and then jump around from Stop This Flight to Something New Under The Son to In Another Land to Upon This Rock. The Statesmen Journal in Larry's hometown of Salem, OR wrote a nice article on the man. One of the small details in there was that Frank Black of the Pixies fame was writing an album with Larry. I can't think of much higher accolades for a Christian musician than when prominent musicians out there want to work with him. That's totally cool - especially for an artist that didn't compromise.

Welcome home, Larry

"This world is not my home.
I'm just passin' through..."

Larry Norman is one special person. I trust the information I get from solidrock.com, and last night the following message came my way via email:

Hello everybody.

-Larry
________________________________

I had the priviledge of knowing Larry. I only have two regrets regarding the man: one, when Leviticus plus John (Linn?) on guitar were rehearsing tunes for the following day's concert near Omaha, Nebraska. He had to take a phone call or something and left the rehearsal room. I should've jumped up and grabbed the microphone and tore through the song "Why Should The Devil Have All The Good Music?" I knew the words and my unskilled punk rock attack of the song surely would've put a smile on his face. I chickened out. Two, I just wish I would have called him more often. I so enjoyed the conversations I'd had with him. It was great to get "off-subject" and chat about Catholicism, the JFK assasination, or any number of things. I was thrilled to know that he liked my old punk band's songs, like "Mad At The Girls," etc.

Now Larry is face to face with the one he has loved for so long. Regardless of anything you hear about the guy (he's actually made some enemies within Christian circles, believe it or not), he was resolute and rock solid consistent on one thing: his love for Jesus. His call for the church to remember the poor never seemed to waver, either. If you wanted to send flowers to his family or something, might I suggest something else:

1. go and spend 2 hours sitting next to a homeless person and just chatting (about the weather, his/her health, music, God, whatever ... just visiting)
2. donate some time or money to a homeless shelter near where you live
3. buy some groceries for a needy family and drop them off (maybe start by knocking on their door, saying, "Hi, I'm heading to the store. Is there anything you need? I'm glad to buy it for you...")
4. sponsor a child in a poor country.
5. then maybe send a note to his family via the solid rock records address, telling them what you did in lieu of flowers. I'm sure it would brighten their day.

I can imagine that, at some point, Larry will shift from love and adoration and worship to curiousity. That might take a few thousand years, but at some point he'll ask the Lord some of the questions that he vocalized in his lyrics, his liner notes and in his talks.

The soundtrack to the changing of the world

I want to change the world.
I want to be part of that.
I am inspired with hope,
but am also struck with fear,
when I think about the call
and the daunting task.

But if U2 can be the soundtrack,
count me in.

If their rising crescendo of hope-filled anthems
will accompany me on this journey,
hot-dog, let's go!

By the way, there's a series of four interviews between Bill Hybels & Bono on youtube that are fascinating.

Keely Photos [Uganda.39]

Here's some great photos that Keely shot.





This is Randy Elrod, all smiles with child.
This dude is awesome and totally acted
like the kid he's holding here (when we
were on the safari, boat ride, and other
exciting times).

One our second day we went to a HUGE
project/church that had just a ton of beautiful
children there. We all had lots of fun and joyful
interaction with them. It was fun learning more
about them as well as playing.





One of many children with an infectious smile.





Can you say, "Cutie Patootie?"





I like seeing the goals on the wall here,
which these children seem to take pretty
seriously (there's still lots of typical kid
stuff, play, etc)





Drinking porage. I love how this shot is
framed. Keely does wonders with her
white balance settings. She's a true pro.





Valentine's Day 2008 will likely always
be remembered as the day we met Rhodah.
Most of us were able to meet our sponsored
children on this day. The others cheered us
on. Here's a group photo of us all.





David is a fun guy that does a blog for
beliefnet. He gave his sponsored child a
soccer ball. I suggested that he get a
sharpie and write a greeting on the ball.
He said he didn't have one, and I said,
"One of these artists here will totally
have one on them." Sure enough, one
whipped one right out. I got a kick out
of that.





A big long table at the Fang Fang
Chinese Restaurant. Time fortunately
seemed to slow down while we dined
and chatted with the kids.





I tried teaching Rhodah sign language
for "I love you" and "I pray for you."

[Uganda.38]

Well, it's a little after lunch, but here's some pics:





This is Phil Ware sitting in Rose's small house.







This is the lovely and friendly mother of a small and healthy baby (named Doreen) that we met.







This is one view of the inside of Doreen's house.

[Uganda.37]

Let me suggest that you visit the other bloggers' blogs. They have done some fantastic writing, taken some great photos, and put together some really fantastic videos. There's a wealth of stuff there ... more than one short sitting's worth. Enjoy it. I'm still taking it in myself.

They've also set up a youtube site for videos and a flickr site for photos.

Here are some more photos from our trip:

[coming soon after lunch, Lord willing...]

A real-live African Safari [Uganda.36]

The folks at Compassion scheduled some really cool downtime for us on this trip. It's really intense emotionally and even physically to visit the "projects" (I get hung up on that word. Probably not because of the connotation here in the US of government run-down housing; but mostly because each project that Compassion works with is really a local church. But labels are labels. So what...) in the morning and afternoon and then blog about it on computers at night and then retire only to repeat it all early the next morning -- that gets to be exhausting and taxing. Our group was made up of so many cool, wise, and loving people that the natural bonding we did at each project, the bus rides to and fro, at meals, etc, was really rich. The safari trips were even better. We didn't have the pressure of trying to fit a ton into each day, we were still processing what we'd seen, and the week was winding down.

We checked our bags into a hotel near the Entebbe Airport (yes, that's the same airport where the famous Israeli rescue took place -- see "Raid At Entebbe"), where we dropped off most of our bags in storage for the return flight to the USA. We took our smaller, consolidated bags with us to the airport, where we boarded a small plane. Our flight would take us about one hour away to a safari lodge by the Nile River.

We had to bend over to traverse down the aisles of this 20-seater plane. During each of our outings and meals, usually, our leader would ask someone different to pray. I had a feeling that I would be asked to pray for this trip. I resisted the temptation to "prepare" a prayer in my head in advance. I shot from the hip and also prayed pretty much the same thing I do before all trips, asking God to protect us with His "mighty angels" as we travel. Most of us were pretty nervous about this flight. I didn't want to go all the way to Africa to die in a small plane crash. We landed on a dirt runway. Nice and smooth landing. The airport was non-existant. There were a few people there, but the buildings were tiny, a couple of huts that you could see inside through the roofs, and a coke machine. It would more aptly be described as an "air strip," not an airport. None of us went inside, but instead loaded into three safari vans, which had a roof that opened up to give us the headroom to stand up and look outside the vehicle as we travelled.

Our driver pointed out some animals. We all look and exclaimed when we saw an Oribe (I think that's spelled right. pronounced "or-a-bee"). It was funny to compare our drive from the air strip to the lodge with the return trip two days later. We were jaded, and sat down on the return trip. "Oh, there's another orabe." Coming in, however, everything was a new discovery. This initial trip from strip to lodge was like a mini-safari for us. As we got less than a block from the lodge, we passed a couple of small buildings that looked like summer camp dorms. There were baboons all around and a giant hippo eating grass between these buildings. We drove right up to it and we all took photos. We couldn't believe that we were this close to the giant beast. After arriving and settling in we went on a ferry boat ride across the Nile, followed by a drive up to the waterfalls. Murchison Falls were giant, mad, rushing falls. It was a beautiful sight to behold. It was fun to be out and walking.

One thing about this trip for me, though, was that I turned into a germaphobe. I'd heard so many health warnings that I wasn't about to pet a baboon or pick up a rock or even hold onto branches when walking through a wooded area. I had a bottle of Germ-X hanging from my backpack, which I used a lot.

We enjoyed a great dinner together at the lodge. We found the business center of the lodge and utilized it for some blogging. The beds here had giant nets attached to rollers on the ceiling, so it was easier to get in and out of the netted beds. They serve Coca-Cola Light there, which tastes wonderful (like Coke Zero). Not having had too much other than bottled water the entire trip, it was nice to savor the flavor.

The next day we set out at 7am for our safari. We saw some giraffes early on, along with several orabe, warthogs, water buffalo, water bucks, a fish eagle, a couple other types of deer (like an antelope), and some rather large elephants. We all wanted the same thing, though -- to see lions. We hit the jackpot! We found a large female with six cubs! Prior to our arrival, about four other safari vans were parked. They had seen mama stalk the frightened but still deer creature. The cubs soon followed suit. The people in that vehicle (which included Compassion photographer Keely Scott) thought they were about to see the hunt go down. Someone slammed a van door shut and I think the deer split. I heard that mama's hesitation might've just been a hunting tutorial. She probably would've pounced on the thing if they were hungry. Maybe they'd eaten the day before or something.

A few people in the group knew I'd be thrilled. Three different people back home had warned me "not to touch the big cats." It was a real thrill to be that close. Our vehicle moved to the front of the pack quietly, and then the cats decided to move and cross the road in front of us. Pausing to plop down in the road for a few minutes. What a visual treasure!

I am so looking forward to the new kingdom in heaven or on the new earth someday. I'm convinced that we'll be able to play with the big cats.

It's funny, but on our way back, the enthusiasm for each animal spotting wasn't as high. We'd seen the big game and were ready to get back to the lodge. I loved the stand up and look out capabilities of the vehicle. I stood most of the time, taking in the sights and the fresh air. Heck, I didn't know when I'd be able to stand in a safari van again, so I took full advantage of it.

Did I mention that baboons and monkeys were everywhere -- like neighborhood dogs -- roaming around? They were. Later that afternoon I was on the patio of our fine room, which overlooked the pool and the Nile behind it. A baboon walked right by our patio, up to a woman in a lounger. "Go away! Go away!" she told him. He must not know English, or maybe her German accent threw him off. He marched around her and went over to the pool and drank some water with a cupped paw. Then he sauntered between two other loungers, who were smiling and laughing at the random and chance encounter. He suddenly hopped up on a trashcan, pulled the lid off, and rummaged around until he found something to eat, and then he took off, looking as if he knew he just got away with something forbidden. That was funny.

Texas Politics

Here's what's happening tonight:

Barack Obama holds a rally in downtown Austin, with lots of trees and skyscrapers nearby. Someone shoots him. Hillary Clinton tries to be off camera at target time, but gets caught ordering the "hit," the conspiracy unfolds and both Democratic candidates are out of the race in one day. Even though Ted Kennedy is standing on stage with Obama at the time, he survives (but doesn't enter the race).

Michael Huckabee gets a "word of knowledge" about John McCain, the press and public eats it up, but the public is not confident enough in him and the former Arkansas Governor doesn't get elected. In an odd turn of events Sam Hurt cartoon character Hank the Hallucination wins in a landslide.

I don't have an overactive imagination. It just seems that way.

PS Nothing turns people off quicker than politics they don't agree with. Not everyone reacts this way. Hopefully I have carefully couched any political bias so carefully that no one reading this will know who I'd vote for.

Roger Staubach, Dennis the Menace, and Barack Obama [Uganda.35]

I met a guy last week that really impressed me. He organized lots of details and kept a cheerful and positive attitude at all times. Somehow his notebook computer got damaged. His screen/monitor looked like it had one of those giant ink splots on it, kinda like the kind I like to use in weird, "dirty" layouts in HM magazine. He explained how he was moving windows around the splotches to read what he had to, but it was a giant mess. A couple of us thought, 'Man, we should take up a collection or a few of us hand him some dough to get that thing fixed. We spread the word and collected about $600 between the 16 of us in about an hour. I was chosen to hand it to him, so I approached him with humor.

"Remember when you looked me up and down and said, 'I bet you're (insert derrogatory label here)?' And I protested, saying, 'No, not me!'

"Well, I'm an honest gambler. What you said was true. Here's your money from the bet." What followed was part disbelief and the kind of surprise you feel when someone surprises you with a gift like that. Then he told me he couldn't take the money. He cited a policy that stated they could not receive gifts, because of ethical and accountability reasons. So, here was a guy that was putting the organization that helps others above his own needs.

We had more discussions with him and we decided that we'll contact his superiors and let them know that this was a spontaneous thing that we decided to do on our own to help one of our own -- just friends helping friends. He in no way had asked us to do this. He had no idea that we wanted to help out. We are hopeful that he'll be able to use the funds to fix his notebook. We believe in him and we believe in the power of computers, so we hope to get it fixed promptly.

Mad respect for this guy.

PS The world's eyes and ears will be on Austin, Texas tonight, as Hillary and Obama face off in a debate. I wonder if I showed up and ran naked through the auditorium carrying a giant HM Magazine banner if that would help our circulation grow...

Brokenness [Uganda.34]

Some dumb punk singer once wrote:

"...quit wallowing in your failure
get yourself off your mind.
God uses broken vessels
they're His favorite kind..."

I think of a pot with a crack in it. More glaze is placed in the crack to fuse the pot back together. It's left with a scar, but it's stronger. It gives it character. Sometimes being broken is a result of personal failure, seeing your shortcomings and being filled with sorrow over it. It can be mixed with a peace that comes with knowing that God has favor and grace for us. It's kind of humbling.

There's another kind of brokenness, too. It's kind of like being broken by someone else's situation. This kind of brokenness can lead us to tears -- but tears in prayer (probably THE best kind of tears). This is the kind of brokenness that can come as a result of seeing suffering in a third world country.

The founder of Compassion international was brought over for a speaking engagement back in the early 50s (I'm guessing 1952, but I'm a bimbo, so I could be wrong) and he saw kids huddling together in the streets to keep warm. They only came out at night, cuz the government didn't want anyone to see them (and have to admit they had an orphan problem). In the morning the police would come to clear up the scene. Any kids left were dead ones from the cold, which they took away and discarded. The guy visiting on a speaking gig was asked, "Now that you've seen it, what are you going to do?" He started Compassion International as a result. That's the kind of story that people who visit third world countries can tell. It changes you to see something that hurts people -- especially when you can help.

You and I can help by sponsoring a child. $32 a month goes to helping them in real, tangible ways (food, clothing, education). Every sponsored child I saw there (and especially every parent of said children) went out of their way to thank me for all that I'm doing. I'm just sponsoring one child, but they thanked me personally, as if I was helping them directly.

You should have heard the people ask me THAT question. When they found out I was from America, they'd ask me, "Oh, do you know so-and-so?" I hadn't heard of the person they named, but they were asking about their sponsor. They wanted me to thank them. We had lunch with one young woman last Sunday. She had been sponsored by a woman in Minnesota named Mary Ann Nystrom. We were asked if we knew her. This young woman (I think she was about 20 or 22) wanted to meet Mary Ann more than about anything. She was so grateful for Mary Ann's simple help of sponsorship. Mary Ann saved her life, basically. This young woman (named Prossy) was a college student that was being helped by Mary Ann after her sponsorship was completed/graduated. She is a young entrepreneur, who wants to open her own business. I can't remember the details, but it involves being part of the construction business, supplying something that'll compliment building ... I think. She is currently going to college and she would not be anywhere near where she is now, had it not been for Mary Ann Nystrom's sponsorship.

It was so neat to see Prossy's enthusiasm for her sponsor. Mary Ann emailed her every single day. I believe she's helping pay for her college, now, too. Once a child graduates from the program, I think it's possible for direct connection to be made, so that the relationship can continue into adulthood. That was so radical.

Man, I've got so much more to write!
I've got pictures to post, some info on our boat trip up the Nile River, the safari, all the baboons hanging around ... wow.

It's 4am. Do you know where your magazine editor is? [Uganda.33]

I couldn't sleep. I had a scary dream that scares the crap out of me (that I murdered someone and "got away with it"). Whenever your emotions get felt in "real color" in a scary dream, it's scarier than a horror movie. This reminds me of another vivid dream I had within a week or so of firing a long-time employee at the magazine. I dreamed I had killed him (fortunately, the murder details were not part of the dream) and somehow not found out. I was at his funeral, hugging his parents, putting on a show like I was sad. I woke out of that dream almost shaking. That one's almost easy to interpret: I felt bad for firing him and this was the guilt I needed to feel (or something along those lines). I don't think I've hurt anyone's feelings lately, so I'll attribute that one to simple jetlag.

So, I'm here in some comfortable pajamas and a warm flannel undershirt, eating a big ole' chocolate brownie as I read Sophie's Boo Mama blawg. She is a super person I'm glad I got to meet. Did I tell you about 5 times already that the quality of the people on this blogger's tour is over-the-top great? I'd love to spend a week with any of them individually, so this trip is like a joyous potluck of fellowship. It strikes me with a little bit of irony that I'm here eating a brownie while they are there possibly eating nothing. Maybe he or she will have a coffee mug full of porage in the morning.

One thing that's cool and makes me think and re-evaluate how I view others is that there is no real thing ... there is probably NO SUCH THING as "righteous pity." Forgetting the fact that some of the children I met are under the age of 10 years old and might not be thinking about me nearly as much as I'm thinking about them, one of these children might be laying on that packed dirty floor, laying next to and slightly on top of their half dozen siblings, ignoring the grumblings in their stomach, and they might be praying for me. It's kind of a humbling sucker punch to realize that someone with less material goods than I might be content. It's one of those, "Quit being an idiot, Doug" kind of moments, because I tend to view others through my own lens. I'm just a Slobbering Subjective Machine, bubba!

The subtle arrogance involved in pitying someone else feels kinda sick to me. Compassion, empathy and wanting to help meet real needs, though, is probably a super healthy God-thing. I saw so much last week and still have so much to say. Uh-oh, that brownie's not settling in my stomach too happily.

Home at last [Uganda.32]

Whew!
We made it.
After we arrived in Chicago and re-checked our bags, we went to the gate section where our flight to Austin would leave (and put us home around 8pm).
We noticed an earlier flight to Austin that left around 2something, so we asked, got put on stand-by and got on. So, we got home early, around 4:50 pm. Only bummer is that we did not get our baggage changed to that earlier flight. The later flight, it turns out, was delayed two hours and is arriving (with our luggage) after 10pm.

It's kinda cool that we got that early flight, huh?
I'm tired. I'm really looking forward to reading the other bloggers' insights into the trip. I hope to post much more (stories and photos).
For now, though, rest...

Wabale Yesu [Uganda.31]

Here's some more photos!!!





These are mats the children getting treatment at the MildMay Centre sleep on when they're here. It's an outpatient facility.





This is our beautiful sponsored girl, Rhodah.





Such a sweetie. She sat on both our laps for the time we spent with her, talking and eating lunch. I thought it was cool that she was totally comfortable with that. She sat on my leg for the longest time, which made me happy, assuming she's got a great relationship with her dad. Her mom told us that she sometimes helps her dad dig for his farm work.





Rhodah's mom is just a beautiful woman. What a wonderful smile, too.





Note the teddy bear given to the almost/fake sponsored child. he he

More photos [Uganda.30]

The joy on these childrens' faces was awesome.





Here's a fun-loving boy that I hung out with on Wednesday.








One of dozens of smiles we saw on Wednesday. They all pretty much loved seeing the LCD screen on the back of the camera after we took their photos.









Before we departed, the children hovered around us, making it harder to say goodbye.





Carlos Whittaker was great with the kids, teaching them one of those BINGO type songs in the church where you use a motion instead of enunciating the word. This photo isn't the song he taught indoors, which was: "With Christ as my vessel I can smile at the storm" was accompanied by pointing up, holding two hands like a cup/vessel, sporting a big grin, and blowing like a storm.




I'll post a ton more photos when I get home (which I think is Tuesday night?).

How 'bout a Solution? [Uganda.29]

How many times have you discussed a problem with someone and you talked and talked and boiled it down and shrugged your shoulders in conclusion -- "I don't know what we can really do...?"

I've certainly felt that way. That's one of the challenges of leadership in general and politics specifically. Often times a problem can be so massive and so complex that we wilt out of fear and despair or we give up feeling insignificant. Some forge ahead without a big picture vision, keeping things simple and accomplishing a lot in the process; some bring help and aid and improvement to areas that need a miracle. I am as stoked as a Berkley College student that's just been to a Civil Rights march and heard Dr. Martin Luther King Jr speak... I am freshly impressed in a huge way with a glimpse of quality leadership that's peered through the lens of my ears. I've actually heard a totally intelligent solution that sounds extremely well thought out.

The way the night started out was after a long day of visiting the AIDS/HIV clinic (the MildMay Centre), which was like a lifetime experience that only lasted a few hours in the morning. That was followed by a lunchtime visit with the child we sponsor (talk about a mountaintop experience) ... and that was the afternoon part of one day. That night we met on three or so tables out in the grass at the Speke Resort. Graduates or current participants of the Leadership Development Program (Compassion loves acronyms, and this one is LDP) split up and one or two sat at each table and ate with us and shared their stories.

By the end of the night I was thanking God that I was alive to experience this. It was one of THOSE special and rare times where you just feel blessed to experience it. It was a special day. You don't have to journal about it or carve the date into a tree trunk or a park bench, because you're probably going to remember the event forever. It's not the same as meeting a celebrity, where you're in awe of the person for who they are or for their compliments; although those encounters can qualify for special memories if they transcend the awe of the person into a relational tingling thing where two or more people connect and share a moment with each other as equals or one valuing another over themselves (like a celebrity might do for a child, perhaps, making that person feel special and cared for and important. This night was like one of those moments.

Our table had a bright, articulate young man named Vincent. He was raised in a family of 15 children, with a step-mom who was one of his father's other wives and was many times neglected by his step-mom, not being fed like the other children. He became a Compassion sponsored child, which quite literally and dramatically saved him. He graduated through that program and even had a conversation with his step-mom later where she apologized for not treating him right. He apologized for letting her down at times. They reconciled with each other and she was reconciled to Christ. He went on to the next-step program that Compassion wanted to tell us about. It's this Leadership Development Program where they get sponsored and have their college education paid for. Now he's an advocate for child sponsorship. He's started an alumni association that is giving back to the community and program that saved his life. Other leaders are serving others. It's an awesome program. Hundreds of young people apply for it and go through a review process that acknowledges those with leadership potential and enables them to achieve and focus that potential. It's awesome that it's here, and it's incredible that it is inspiring its participants to give back.

Another older gentleman, named Steven is one of the leaders of the LDP program here. This guy would be a helluva football coach. (Please forgive my colorful Ugandan) He is such a great and motivating speaker. I felt like our table got the world class talent and I felt like, 'Hmmm, too bad about those other tables. There's no way they could have the same level of experience that we did. We got to hear a clear, thorough, well-thought out and effective program articulated for us. We got to hear personal stories of how it works and why it works. I was reminded of a talk that I'd had with Brian Seay earlier about the LDP, where he said everyone involved pretty much thinks that the level of leadership we're seeing raised up in the LDP program means that one day the Ugandan President with be a Compassion graduate (someone who's been sponsored in the Child Sponsorship Development Program, or CSDP). I thought, 'Man, I think I just had dinner with that guy. I could totally see him leading a nation. He spoke with conviction, passion and intelligence. Again, I almost felt sorry for the bloggers at the other two tables. Surely they didn't experience such an impressive discussion as we did...

It turns out I was wrong. There was a young man named Job that those at his table later said, "I think I just met the future president of Uganda!" That is so cool.

Steven spoke at the end of the evening, summing up the LDP program as being like putting the finishing touches to a painting, or the frame that completes the big picture. You see, Compassion has programs like the Child Survival Program (CSP), which intervenes even before birth, helping the pregnant mom deliver a healthy baby and keeping both mother (or, the label that's commonly used: "caregiver") and child alive and healthy for those first few years after birth (responding to the problem of 30,000 children dying before the age of 3); and the CSDP, which keeps kids healthy and empowers them to live and perhaps thrive from the ages of 5 or so through the age of 22 or when they leave the program to join the work force; and then it has the LDP program, where they take leaders and support them through college. I don't do an adequate job of showing the brilliance of this comprehensive outlook to what Compassion does, but it's so big picture. I am thoroughly impressed.

Steven talked about leaders of integrity to serve. There model is Jesus -- the servant leader. It was just so exciting to meet and be around leaders like that. We asked him questions. He answered one particular poignant question with an emphatic finger pointed down towards the table: "Where would you rather raise your children -- the US or here?" He talked about how children in poor conditions know how to depend on God. Those with nothing know that Jesus is their everything. Those with plenty rely on themselves, making it harder to trust in God. We asked him about how people in this country could have hope. He described seeing people in the poorest of conditions having smiles on their faces. People in Africa have hope that, no matter how bad their conditions are, that maybe tomorrow will be better. It's an amazing hope that he describes as being part of who they are (like part of their DNA). It was eye opening for us, who come from an incredibly rich country and have seen such squalor and poverty up close and personal.

Man, I left this dinner late at night, walking hand in hand with my wife back to our room in a splendid resort feeling happy, full of hope, and plain out blown away by the quality of leadership, the soundness of this vision. Wow.

Photos [Uganda.28]

Wabarey Yesu [Uganda.27]

Thank the Good Lord for rest (and the Compassion Staff, too). They've been incredible hosts to us and we've gone on a safari. I think I've mentioned it before, but this gang on the blogger's tour is good people. It's been fantastic hanging out. We saw lots of lions today on the safari. Giraffes, elephans, kobs, water bucks, a fish eagle, hippos, warthogs, and lots of others.

I popped into the business center here at the resort we're at, which allowed me to post this note. I saw a video that Carlos put together that is really cool. I think it's called Compassion #7 or Video #7 or something #7 on his youtube account for this trip. I cannot wait to read all the other blogs of these folks. We've been too busy here, really, to spend any leisure time looking at stuff like that.

All the local people we run into turn out to be extremely friendly, nice, and engaging in casual conversation quite easily.

Today I looked out our patio window and saw a baboon bouncing across the poolside. It got close to one sunbathing lady who said in a German accent, "Go away! Go away!" It pranced right past her, drank some pool water and then strolled between two loungers there (faces agast with joy) and he hopped up on a trashcan, removed the lid, grabbed something and took off.

Rhoda has a place in our heart [Uganda.26]

It's hard to describe the pure joy and rush that we felt when we met our sponsored child, Kisakye Rhodah (The all important Uganda surname goes first, and their English name second).

One of our team leaders, Brian Seay, sort of apologized to us by describing the sort of different emotions we would encounter on this portion of our day yesterday as like "whiplash." We went from seeing first-hand the treatment and care at the MildMay HIV/AIDS treatment center to being united with our sponsored child. It really was a different perspective of what we were seeing and experiencing, that's for sure.

As soon as we got to the fine Fang Fang Restaurant, we were led to a courtyard section out back. There were several tables under a series of canopies that were to be where we ate with our child, one of their caregivers, and a project worker from where they were from that would serve as a translator. I saw a few children being led out and I spotted Rhoda right away. It looked like she was wearing a similar outfit to the one in her photograph that we'd had for a couple weeks (the one posted here ... on Feb 1). It's not the same outfit, but was predominantly orange. She looked so confident and noble as she walked across the yard. I couldn't wait to meet her. We were told to spread out amongst both sides of the long row of tables and wait for our names to be called to be united with our child. The other folks from our troupe would cheer us on and take photos while we met. After one or two such introductions they called our names. It seemed early to me for some reason and then when I saw "our" child I suddenly thought, 'Wait! That's not her ... is it? Could she have grown a head of hair since her photo was taken?' We were introduced to "Rhodah" as her new parents and we each gave her a hug, handed her a large gift bag, got our pictures taken, greeted each other a bit, and then worked our way around all of the tables to the backside by the fence that we were sitting at. Shortly after sitting down and talking a bit with this beautiful girl, we were called and told with embarrassed looks that it was the wrong child. It was kind of funny and awkward, as this sort of thing never happens (or at least very rarely). Right before one of our local leaders introduced the child, he asked another local worker to introduce the next pair, which was a nice gesture on his part, but a surprise to the worker, who looked at a printout with about 4 or 5 children and their sponsors. He must've read one line and lined it up with another line across the page to make the simple mistake. I felt sorry for the girl, but as soon as her real sponsor, Anne (a great gal to be around) handed her a giant teddy bear, this girl's face lit up. The awkwardness faded away quickly.

When they introduced us to Rhodah after a chuckle and apology, I knew we had the right one. Later on Anne mentioned that she thought the same thing: 'Wait a minute! That girl looks like the one I'm sponsoring...' A flood of joy swept over us like a wave of adoption. It's not exactly the same joy that parents get at the birth of their child (where an immediate love seemingly springs out of nowhere, flooding your heart with nurturing and adoring love ... but it's very similar and high on the emotional intensity scale. You couldn't help but smile to be anywhere near where this was going on. I'm sure I was beaming with joy. Rhoda's mother was with her, who is a beautiful woman with a wide, infectious smile. The local project facilitator that translated for us was a small and petite young woman named Irene, who was a delight to be around as well. We asked questions about where they lived, what they liked, what a typical day was like, what Rhodah's favorite color was (blue), if they had any animals (two pigs and a dog), what her father did for a living (farmer), how many siblings she had, etc. Rhodah was so sweet and shy at first, smiling, but not open to a lot of conversation yet.

Children are taught to bow down out of respect to say thank you; and she did that when meeting us and after receiving gifts. We gave her mother a bag of gifts that included toothbrushes for their entire family (of six) and some other practical and helpful items. She was very eager to sit on our laps. First she sat on Charlotta's knees and got doted on by her. She seemed to be very happy to see us, and she told us through her mom and Irene that this was so. After opening her doll and puppy set, she sat on my knee. When I crawled the puppy around, animating it with yelps and lapping her with affection, she really opened up. She thought it was funny to see me shoot my straw wrapper across the table at a couple traveling with us from the Atlanta area (Carlos and Heather); and she really giggled when I imitated a pig in reference to two of the animals she had.

I asked if the song "Waybaray Yesu" (probably spelled Wabarey) was a popular one. I sang the melody for her and she said it was popular, so I started singing it softly to Rhodah and she joined in. Everybody delights in seeing and hearing a child sing, so it was a really cool moment. It was awesome to connect in that way. Irene was impressed that I knew the song, but it was the joyful, bouncing number that the Compassion staff has shared and blessed us with a couple days earlier.

When we had to say goodbye, it was extremely hard. We all had bonded together and enjoyed each other's presence. I lingered on as long as I could, hugging her mom and Rhodah. Her mother asked me if we'd come back and visit next time. That was a tough question to answer, but since I didn't know that's all I could say. We left and then found out that a couple of the bloggers were using the wifi connection here to post, so we had a few minutes to wait. Charlotta and I both went back in to use the restroom. After I came out, I spotted Rhodah and her mom and watched from a distance, delighting at being able to spy on them in a natural setting. We got to chat a bit more out in front of the restaurant. When they left in their car, we all waved goodbye to each other.

Wow. It was really an emotional high. I am still glowing a little on the inside.

[Coming soon: a description of our dinner with the LDP people at the end of our day yesterday. Today we're off to a safari trip.]

Reinventing the Wheel -- is that good stewardship? [Uganda.25]

One cool quote I heard one of our leaders state a few times is a really impressive mindset/attitude/vision-type statement. Brian Seay casually mentioned a few times that "Compassion isn't real big on re-inventing the wheel." They find someone that's doing something effectively and they partner with them and empower them. Another really cool (and humble) sidenote to their credit is that you don't see any signs at the projects and places they work with that say, "Supported by Compassion International" or something. They're not blowing a trumpet and announcing their good works. This is the biblical way of giving and serving. God sees what we do and any credit that we need will be given by Him.

It also, I think, answers the question in the subject heading. Why re-invent the wheel or start a brand new structure, fill out a staff, buy start-up materials and whatnot if there is someone else already doing the same job effectively. We saw a real good example of that each time we went to a project. There were no plaques on the walls or signs that described or labelled Compassion's partnership with this. Today we went to the HIV/AIDS clinic here in Kampala. It was both an educational and motivating visit, but also a punch in the gut. Later on in the bus afterwards, my lovely and knowledgable wife explained some of the medical facts about HIV (and the difference between it and AIDS). When she shared the sobering statistics about young children that have HIV and get an opportunistic infection are pretty much not likely to survive for too long ... These opportunistic infections might not damage a healthy person, but someone who is HIV positive will not have the basic strength and immunity to fight them off. ... When she explained this, it hit home that perhaps all of the sweet and tiny little babies getting care in the clinic we saw today had very low chances of surviving more than a year or two. It was a very sad moment.

The facility we visited is one of only two clinics in the world that exclusively treat HIV/AIDS and nothing else. It is called the MildMay Centre and it is a beautiful place. The land that it is on is like a lovely retreat or campus. Lots of hills, trees, and grass surround several first class buildings.

I was reminded of how some people give the best. We have some friends called the Tuceks (Daniel plays bass still for One Bad Pig; and Cathy used to sell ads for HM). If someone they know or hear about loses their house in a fire, for example, they will go out and buy them some brand new clothes. None of this rummaging around in the garage, attic or closet for the Tuceks. They'll find out the person's size and go out and buy some brand new and really nice clothes. It's love mixed with respect, class, and big-hearted generosity. That's what this complex reminded me of. It was just beautiful. Shannon Lowe, one of our bloggers, mentioned that it really felt like a sanctuary. That's a great way to describe this place (mildmay.or.ug). It offered a visual sense of peace and shelter in the midst of what must be a terrifying time for the patients that come there for treatment (which is free, by the way).

We heard a lot of statistics today. You have probably heard some statistics about HIV and AIDS, too. In 1986 or so the President of Uganda came out and admitted to the world that "we have a problem here." And they were thus the first to really ask for help. Other African leaders apparently denied it or avoided the subject. This devestating plague has wiped out so many adults and children. Addressing it is most definitely a serious need. The major funder of the MildMay Centre is the Center for Disease Control (CDC), based in Atlanta, Georgia. The US Government has in the last 9 years or so given lots of funds, many from the Pepfar program.

There is lots of treatment done here, which is pretty much done on an outpatient basis. All of the adults come in and out for treatment, though they have 30 or so inpatient beds for children. They do lots of training, as well as educating those patients with the disease. The centre was initially funded by the British government. It was given to the Ugandan government not too long after it was established (about two years). Everywhere we looked it seemed like there was comprehensive help for those with HIV and/or AIDS. They had their own ambulance, so if someone needed immediate care they could go get them and not have to wait for a city vehicle. Initially, it was the only clinic treating for this in the country, but now they have some satellite clinics that help those further away.

It was strange arriving at a gate with high fences and a guard house. Our arrival with Compassional International staff was arranged in advance, but we still had to pass through checkpoints. This might be a reflection of British government attitudes or maybe just common sense security by being located in an urban setting.

We saw some waiting rooms, where patients were there for treatment and doctor's appointments. Many of those with HIV can get treated, in case you didn't know, and live productive, healthy lives. Some of the drugs they need (like anti-viral drugs) are dispensed here. We were served "tea" (which, as anyone who's visited an English country will know, means hot tea, as well as snacks). We had some muffins, juice and sausages. We went into their dentist office, which we were told was the only HIV dentist office. There's been issues, of course, with health care workers about the caution and risks in treating an infection/virus that is transmitted through blood and bodily fluids. An obvious concern is someone operating in a person's mouth, for example, and contracting the virus through that contact. Medical workers use a lot of care for this, and dentistry is one area that's given concern. Here we saw a very friendly dentist and assistant working on a small girl's mouth. I felt bad for the girl, because it's always weird when people (especially strangers) are staring at you. I imagine she had some novacaine or other pain killer, because she wasn't crying. The dentist used one utensil and then retrieved the pliers for a tooth extraction. Wham! It was just like that -- a quick procedure -- that gave most of us in the room 'the willies.' We left shortly thereafter and toured the children's section up the hill. I can't state how fantastic and first class this place is. Even if it were located in Malibu, California or Boston, Massachussetts, this facility would get high marks from anyone visiting. I want to look more into this facility. I'll blog more about it later, I'm sure.

One of the children's wings was named after Veronica Moss. She's someone I'm definitely going to google when I get the chance. I'm rushing on this blog as we prepare for a dinner with the young men and women that are going through the leadership program here with Compassion. They're basically being put through college with Compassion's help. It will be an awesome picture, I'm sure, of the blessing and outcome of child sponsorship at the next level.

Coming up soon will be a blog about our experience with meeting our sponsored child. Be sure and read that one.

Visiting Africa is really a life-changing experience. You can't see the need of your neighbors (who in our modern age of high-speed transportation and communication, are not that far away anymore) and not be changed somehow. I've participated in child sponsorship and would recommend it to anyone; but now I've seen it up-close and personal and I emplore you to simply ask God if you can sponsor a child. I'm willing to guess that God will provide a way to help you meet the serious but reasonably small monthly committment of sponsoring a child. Would you be willing to just pray about it and listen for an answer? I know that's pointed, but we can all do something to help here and this is just a very simple and practical way to do that. Some of you reading this have done that ... and that is so awesome. You would love to hear the thankful refrain from so many people here. They love what Compassion is doing and the Child Sponsorships are helping them out and doing so much for them.

Info on sponsoring

The bubbles break out again [Uganda.24]

I'm told that "mizungu" stands for "white person." There's very few of them here, so they stand out. Many small children will say that word and point to us. It's kind of funny.

Okay, after the Compassion Headquarters visit, we trecked over to another Project. It's weird for me to use that word, which all the staffers do, because it sometimes sounds contrived. It's really a church or a program of a local church. So, we went to another church today in a remote location. I'm told that the locals who take part in this service refer to the church/project as the "program." This was just an awesome visit. We stayed for several hours. After meeting lots of the people there, we split up and went to homes that were getting help from the CSP (Child Survival Program). A really nice young mother invited us into her small house. We sat on a mat and visited with her, and we actually sat in on an actual routine CSP visit, where the worker followed-up with the mother and child, updating the records on both of their health. A short Bible study (covering one verse, from Psalm 1) was followed by simple questions about health, the baby, and whatnot. The beautiful little girl sat with Charlotta pretty much the whole time. It was neat finding out a little bit about this woman. Her husband worked in a nearby vanilla factory, and she asked us to pray for some Income Generating Activity (IGA), as she mostly did garden work and took care of her child and home each day. She graciously allowed me to photograph her and her small house.

When we went back to the church, we got to spend a lot of carefree and unstructured time with the kids. It was a beautiful day, wonderfully warm weather with a nice cool breeze. The church complex and school (St. Thomas Primary School) sits on a beautiful green hill, with a fantastic view. Many of us had gifts for the children, which they got really excited about. We had a meal and then saw a short performance from the school kids, who sang. The best part was when several of the ladies sang and danced in the church.

I gave several Worship at Full Volume stickers out to the young boys playing in the fields after dinner, and they swarmed me grasping for them. It was so funny. I'm sure there's lessons they can talk about regarding sharing and taking turns and whatnot, but this is just pounds and pounds of sheer joy that no moral concerns should ever mess with when it's happening. It's so fun. Today was like one of those days that infused hope in your heart. I remember feeling a similar sensation inside when watching that U23D movie a few weeks ago: 'Maybe, just maybe, we can really change the world. Maybe we're on the right path and/or headed in the right direction.' It's really exciting and empowering to think that you might be helping bring the kingdom of God to earth.

It is possible. Everything's about to change. (Thanks, Crowder)

PS We had a scare tonight with a fall that sent one of us to the hospital. This was definitely one of all of our not-want-to-happen-here things (going to a local hospital, where the blood might not be safe, etc). Fortunately, all ended up well. It was so cool to see my wife go with this person, since she is a nurse and can really help out in some practical and major ways. We're so glad this person is doing great. We were sure praying for the folks that went to the hospital. And it was a major relief about an hour ago to see them walking back into the hotel lobby.

PSS Please be sure to check out all the blogger's blogs here.

Mizungu [Uganda.23]

When addressing us as a group of bloggers, our terrific hosts and trip leaders talk about the task of "processing" what we've seen during the day. That is almost a huge task, because we have seen and done so much on this day. We got a pretty early start and went to Compassion Headquarters. So much happend during this morning time and where we visited in the afternoon, that they seem like two whole separate days.

Pulling into Compassion Headquarters was a cool deal, because we all knew how special it was for us and them as well. We were eager to thank them and congratulate them as being the heroes that got most of the work done over here. They were very happy to see us as well. Shaun Groves shared a short message on humility and he did a great job communicating on how God's kingdom (the kingdom of Heaven) comes to earth when we help the poor. I wish I had a transcript of what he said, because he really crystalized his points well. He started off by talking about things that made him humble and referenced how the poor in spirit are especially blessed, because they depend on God for everything. It's like they can tap into brokenness and humility easier than someone who is not desperate. A couple of times he talked about how the rich are being blessed also, by their humbling themselves and reaching out to the poor. It was especially relevant to us, because even the poorest of us from America are mighty wealthy compared to here.

After Shaun's homily some of the Compassion folks introduced themselves and they shared with us a presentation about their cool Child Survival Program and how they work. I thought of my wife, who has volunteered at a place called LifeCare, where she would counsel some pregnant mothers and mothers with newborns about care for their children. This is similar to the home visit type work done in this program, where pregnant girls get lots of counseling for their new child. Apparently 58% of births in Uganda are home births. Roughly 1.3 million women become pregnant each year here. It sounds like such a super practical way to help people here. The situations where this help is administered is pretty much desperate with the current AIDS crisis here, but also just because so many children here die before they reach the age of 5.

After this powerpoint presentation we were blessed by a song and dance that all the Compassion staffers performed a song. I think they were singing "Waberay Yesu," which I believe is the simple equivalent of "Thank You, Jesus." They had drums going and clapping, and lot of bounce and a little bit of dance. It was a total and joyous blessing. That kind of stuff has so much personality ... so cool. Then we split up and some of us that needed to post blogs went upstairs to use their faster higher speed internet, while the rest of us visited with some other staffers, who explained what goes on with gifts and letters from sponsors. They actually take pictures of the sponsored child or family with the gift, as a way of showing accountability of that giving.

Shaun Groves (the man of the hour this morning!) shared a cool story about a gift he gave his sponsored child's family in Ecuador (I think). Like all direct gifts above and beyond the child sponsorship money (which I hear has an 80/20 ratio of 80% going directly to the child and 20% to overhead in making all that possible). All of it goes to the child or their family. In Shaun's case, it was a simple gift of $20 and the family was able to pay for a brand new roof over their house with it. That small amount was a blessing to that entire family. That's awesome to know, because it makes it a little bit easier for us to take action and help out, making a difference.

It's easy, sometimes, for us to get discouraged and despairing when looking at poverty and terrible situations, but when we realize that change is possible and how we can give hope and practical, material help with so very little sometimes, it changes our perspective from "there's way too much" to "I can do this."

The Epitome Shot [Uganda.22]

I thought this photo by Keely Scott was so good that it deserved its own posting, all by itself... (as well as an award) Commentary is below.

Children [Uganda.21]

Wow. Today was supposedly an "ease into it" kinda day. Wake up late to compensate for jet lag, go to just one project, come back fairly early, blog and be done. We decided to go to another project, with the agenda of not having one, but just to play and interact with the kids. That happened. It was very cool. It's amazing how much we did in just one day. It almost seemed like a week's worth of activities.

As mentioned in the post about Rose's house, we went to a church/project this morning. After visiting Rose's house, which was very impacting... Imagine a room that was 8 feet wide by 6 feet deep. Two handmade wooden benches line each space longwise, and we had 9 people in there -- talking in the dark. It was amazing. There was a sheet/curtain behind one of the benches, which was where Rose and her husband slept. The six kids all slept on the floor.

It certainly is one thing to see these kinds of living conditions on tv or in pictures, but to actually duck as you ventured inside and sit in that space ... it makes an impact and drives home the reality of the poverty of our neighbors. It's really crazy how much stuff we take for granted in our culture. Concrete floors, wooden floors, carpet... that's a far cry from dirt.

It was neat, though, to not really be phased by the conditions at all, but to take the time to meet someone. She was a very nice woman and she was so cool to let us into her house like that. I don't know if she knew what to expect from us. I was like a mild trouble-maker, it seemed, asking questions about her interaction with her kids, what her favorite games to play with them are, etc. I was just trying to get to know her better, but some of the folks there explained that this is an area that this country wants to improve in -- the relationships between children and their parents. No one was agitated, of course, but they revealed that in their culture there is a lot of separation from parents. There's not the reading of bedtime stories or other bonding stuff like that.

After we left Rose's house, where a pastor named Phil and I were able to pose with her husband, who quickly donned his policeman's uniform after arriving home, I had the coolest conversation with a builder from the church. He's like a building supervisor, who is overseeing the building projects they have. He mentioned that he thought his country really needed a new way of thinking. A new attitude that didn't accept poverty or dwell in it, but one that was developing and growing. He mentioned how the land we were standing on was gold. "If you bring a china man here, he'll set up a shop over there and soon he'll own the whole neighborhood, because he's got a plan. He's got a goal. He's got a different mindset." It sounds like the country is already enjoying and benefiting from such an attitude change, but they still have a ways to go.





Charlotta was a big hit with the kids by breaking out her bubble solution. Kids just loved popping those things. She was surrounded in a flash, with lots of laughter and children. I saw a young boy who really loved wheeling a motorcycle tire around. I'd seen footage of that fun pasttime many times on tv or in photos, but I think it was the first time I saw somone engaged and enthralled in that particular makeshift toy.





Peter told me that his parents never told them about the separation between the classes of people where he grew up (in that same neighborhood). He had an innocent outlook on himself and those kids around him. Even though they went to a private school or something, when they had free time, they resorted to the same toys as the kids here living in this ghetto.

I've been aware and open minded about poverty for much of my adult life, acknowledging both God's love for people and our responsibility to help those out in need; and I've been around my share of poor conditions, crime, and homelessness ... but the difference between what I've seen in the streets of Austin, Texas, for example, and the dirty alleyways and roads of Kampala, Uganda ... are startling.

Anyway, here's a photo that Keely Scott took (she's this really neat person that Compassion brought along to supply all us bloggers with good photos). This photo is one I call "the epitome shot," because it crystalizes in an image what we are doing here. We are adults from another culture holding hands and supporting a young child here in Uganda. It's really the perfect picture of what goes on when we (me, us, you, them) get involved with a sponsorship type of role. We're practically helping our neighbors here in Uganda.





I learned about some other cool ways to help with Compassion. Many kids are brought into "the program" and start getting help before they are actually sponsored. This is done because some people donate into an unsponsored children fund. There's also a whole other level of help that we saw today in our second project visit. The first project is like many, which they call CDSP (I could be wrong about the acronym...I never served time in the military, so sometimes the acronym mastering takes me some time), which involved the Child Sponsorship Program. The CSP, though, stands for another type of program, which is about Child Survival Program. This is where support workers offer aid to an unborn child, offering help to a pregnant mother to help her health and the health of the baby. This also involves young children with HIV. It's stepping in and helping save a child's life, basically. It's urgent and immediate help to try and save lives. The Child Development Sponsorship Programs are helping develop a child; the CSP is actually about the hardcore saving of a child's life.

The project we visited secondly today had lots of children that were orphaned or had incapacitated parents due to HIV. We spent a lot of time playing with them. I kicked the soccerball around for what seemed like hours. I was sweating in my jeans and polo shirt, and enjoying playing with the boys and seeing their smiles as we interacted on an athletic level. That's always cool.

Here's a few photos. Today's blogging was kind of split up, so hopefully the next few days will have more photos and perhaps be more organized. Like we're experiencing on this trip, though, not everything goes exactly as planned.

Sitting in Rose's house [Uganda.20]

Today we went to a "project" near downtown Kampala. One of the things that our "guide" (Brian Seay, who is one of our tour leaders) explained is that each Project of Compassion is really a church. They firmly believe in empowering the local church to serve their community. They provide funds to help children development by simply helping the local church out. They work closely with them and develop a relationship, which really seems to be working. The church we visited was called Deliverance Church Makerere-Kivulu. We all went inside the church, which was in the middle of a building program that will expand its facilities to provide a lot more room for the children and the other work they do.

It's a child development center, which is reflective of the core of Compassion's work. They do relief work when there's a tsunami or big earthquake, but their chief focus is on children. This is the "THEM" I was refering to earlier.

I remember when I was single and oftentimes my thoughts and conversations were about finding a mate. I recall one conversation where a friend of mine (who incidentily works in the mission field nowadays) said something about being able to tell a lot about a person (not just a potential spouse) by how they interacted with children. If kids liked them, they were probably alright.

It's not ironic that Jesus was even sort of criticized by his own disciples for spending so much time and seemingly relaxing with and entertaining children. Children are not just our future, they are the here and now. They are part of the church today. I like that. And I LOVE the fact that this organization shows so much value and important in children.

So, anyway, after seeing the church, hearing about their child development program and seeing what they learn, what they make, meeting several of them and a couple of parents; we took a tour of the rest of the church grounds. They were especially proud of the toilets that they build with Compassion's help. It may not seem like much to us, but showing these little boys and girls how to use a toilet ("no, those are not sinks or wells to wash your hands in..."), wash their hands, and become accustomed to personal hygeine training that we so take for granted. They even had locks on the stalls with "vacant" and "occupied" signs on the doors, so that they could be trained in how our system works.

After seeing all that and visiting with church staff and whatnot, we split up and went to various houses. The group I was with met a lady named Rose, who stood in front of a little shack with a tin roof over it, a pot over a fire outside, and lots of kids around. About six of us went into her house at her invitation, sitting on small benches facing each other. This room, which is where her six kids slept, was no bigger than our closet. Dirt floor, clay walls ... and no lights. It took a long time for my eyes to adjust. It was hard to imagine living in a place like this, but here we were having a conversation and meeting a woman and her family. Her husband returned home and we got to meet him and a few of her children. It was a powerful experience.

[more later... it's time to visit another project now]

Blog #3 [Uganda.19]

It's not officially blog time and we're about ready to leave, so I'm rushing this one. But this is something I've been thinking about.

Blogging for me is partly kind of an egocentric thing, like a public journal. I always try to write for an audience and not ever just for me, and I hope I can keep daily, personal things interesting and funny. Thus far my blog has kind of been about me and my experiences here. Very soon, this is going to change. It's going to switch from being about me and start being about THEM.

(The children).

Blog, #2: Arrival in Kampala [Uganda.18]

We are settled into our hotel now, which is great. A couple interesting things about the flight:

When we arrived in Nairobi last night, after a short stop and refueling, and right before takeoff, the stewardesses announced that they'd be spraying the plane (and that it was entirely safe) then they walked along each aisle with a can of spray in each hand, adding something (probably a bug killer) to the plane. The guy in front of me held his jacket above his mouth the whole time.

The bus ride from the airport to the hotel was about an hour ride and, though I had heard it might be somewhat risky, it went without a hitch. There were pretty much no lights on the road, so the working headlights really helped.

Blog #1: Chicago Airport [Uganda.17]

So, I'm trying to take the trip advice seriously, which mentioned that one of the ways to possibly prevent jetlag or keep it from being so severe is to avoid caffeine early on in the trip. And here I am at a little cubicle near the gate in Chicago next to a Starbucks stand.

This little kiosk from hell is tormenting me like demonic fallen angels, reading the minds of history past, knowing lots of tiny little details about the things that tempt man. Every espresso drink they make means more beans are swirled around in their coffee grinder, sending more tiny little particles of java dust into the air, slowly drifting towards my nose and swirling around my olfactory sensor control center like an American Airlines plane in a landing/holding pattern. Why am I sitting here? Those little devils in the planning department installed AC electrical outlets here so that I can plug in and type away.

I knew that logo of the sea goddess was a satanic symbol! I knew I should never have accepted that invitation from nice and smiling Christian rock band singer guy, Manuel Castillo -- who offered me coffee at his house. I mean, he had a mustache!!! I should have refused his offer. He so seductively showed me how to "make coffee not taste like coffee" by adding lots of creamer and honey to his brew. And here I am 17 years and thousands of coffee beans later -- weak and susceptable to the wiles of the bean. Just sitting here at this station has me caffeinated by inhalation. While it's not the same as a Triple Ventie Carmel Macchiato, it's got me on a wire.

So, we have made it this far. My wife and I have met Keely Scott, Shaun Groves, Brian Seay, and another couple I'm having trouble recalling ......... (each dot is an attempt to rack my brain for information) ..... Carlos & Heather Whittaker! (You get excited when you remember a name, so you need to utilize an exclamation point...that's how it is.) It looks like most all of the travelling group is here or has been here, finalizing their goodbyes to North American culture by wolfing down some food. We had a couple of Chicago style pieces of pizza. It wasn't Jeno's East, but it was alright, with its butter crust and all.

Shaun shared with me some guilty pleasure in watching un-seasoned travellers make a giant trek like this. I've thought about my own veteran-traveler tendencies and how much I'll be able to "stay in control." I have made a note to myself not to engage in any political conversations, unless absolutely dragged into them; as well as the usual family of egocentric behavior that makes me think that all cultures should look and feel just like mine. That one's pretty easy to conquer, because it's pretty natural to recognize one of the joys of travel is discovering new and different cultures. The differences really are or can be something to celebrate and appreciate. That's not to say I won't giggle if a newbie traveller makes a funny exclamation.

PS We just arrived at our hotel in Kabala, Uganda.

The Eve of Adventuration [Uganda.16]

I can't believe it -- we're going to Africa tomorrow! Wow. It's really quite an incredible adventure. Our flight from Austin goes to Chicago. I hope none of the flights in or out of there this weekend is cancelled. Our trip from Chicago to Brussells is about 8 hours. Then the one from Brussells to Entebbe is about 10 hours. We plan on arriving at our hotel in Uganda about 1am on Tuesday morning, after leaving Austin around 11am Sunday. Lots of that time is whisked away by time zone changes. It's like time travel in the sense that we will experience Tuesday morning several hours before our kids back in Texas do.

Can I Trust Compassion With My Money? [Uganda.15]

I totally think so. When I previously sponsored a child, I would annually or every once in a while, get a fiscal report from them, showing me how donations were doing and sponsorships and the like. It would break down their income and show in little pie charts how much went to office overhead, how much went to marketing, how much went to children's food, education, and so forth. This was all during the late 80s when the non-profit charity world was reeling with accusations from television evangelists and other such scandals.

I totally feel good about Compassion International. I think they do a good job of balancing being able to do what they do (like pay the electric bill for their offices, paying for staples and paper clips and new versions of MicroSoft Office, for example) and getting much-needed money "out in the field"). I think they're probably in the higher end of other related charities in the ratio of overhead vs. money getting to the projects with children.

It's really neat that they're focusing so much attention on children. It's a cliche that "children are our future," but it also makes real sense. I like what one person told our church once: "Kids are not the church of the future, children are the church" (they're part of it now, not some date in the future when they get more mature). I think that's cool. It's neat how young people have grown more and more involved in our world. Precious people with darker skin that Europeans have been largely freed from a life of slavery. Valuable people of the female gender have (at least in the West) been given equal rights with men in terms of their roles in society, etc. And young people have now been liberated in many ways as well. It was probably sometime in the 50s that the generation sample of 13 to 19 year olds were given a name and given respect as both a market share and a voice in our culture -- the "teenager." In the past 30-40 years children have enjoyed a greater role in our culture. Simple expressions, like television shows (Sesame Street, The Electric Company, Romper Room) have empowered children to take more of a role in our world. It's neat to see that openness.

Children are beautiful. They should be protected and valued. It's like the old adage: be careful who you step on while you are "on the way up," because you'll undoubtadly cross their paths again when you are on the way down. We need to treat those younger than us with respect, because they will be leading us or over us in authority some day. They'll remember who was nice to them.

In an age of terrorism and violence, it's a good thing to rescue children and give them nourishment. Apparently, terrorists feed on unrest and the disenfranchised. If a child is having its needs met, they probably won't be attracted to a drug lord or a warlord that offers them protection, food, and shelter. So, it's not only compassionate to help children in need; it's smart. There are many examples of such provision in life. I think God shows us that lesson. Living a life of sexual purity (like saving sex for marriage, for example) is not only a moral thing, but it has practical and intelligent benefits, too (like avoiding teenage pregnancies and sexually-transmitted diseases). Keeping a child in a protected environment also helps keep them out of harm's way.

I like Compassion International. I've participated in what they do; and now I'm excited to see a little bit more close-up what they do.

compassion.com/about/financial

Will Miracles Happen? [Uganda.14]

I have heard that Christians experience more of the supernatural in third world countries -- places where intellectualism and "the age of enlightenment" have eliminated the existence of demons and God and that sort of thing. Maybe it's true. Maybe there is an overwhelming attitude of unbelief in the United States and most of Europe. I've heard stories of Baptist Christians (no offense, but I'm going to use a generalization and a stereotype here) -- who grew up believing that supernatural miracles like tongues and casting out demons was a demonstration of God's power used in the first century as a way to authenticate His Word and His holy apostles, which all ceased once the last apostle (John) died and/or when the canon of Scripture was settled -- have gone to places like Africa or South America and seen demonic manifestations and divine healing right in front of their very eyes.

You know what? I'm kind of expecting the same sort of exciting stuff to happen. I've been told not to be surprised if Muslim women come up to me and ask me to tell them about "this Jesus" that I follow. That I'll have open doors to minister. I've already imagined preaching a Bible lesson/sermon to a crowd. We'll see if that presents itself. I like to daydream about that sorta thing.

I think that Christians have an increased level of boldness and expectation when they leave their country and/or comfort zone to go out in the Name of Jesus. I think our minds (and, in turn, our spirit) venture out with a certain expectation of being used by God. Perhaps this sort of concentrated focus is like a boost of faith that God uses. I'm not sure how else to describe it or explain it. I know I'm probably going to Africa in a few days** and I am carrying that excitement and expectation with me.

**I have actually trained myself to use the phrase "if the Lord wills" or "Lord willing" or "I plan to" or "maybe" in my speech as a simple and practical way to obey God's Word. According to my limited understanding, we are instructed by Scripture to not assume and take for granted our future. Both Jesus (in His parable about the farmer who built more storage facilities) and one of His apostles (James, in James chapter 4, verses 13-17) tell us to rather say "If the Lord wills..." in this sort of context. I try to actually obey that, but it constantly rubs people the wrong way, as if they think I'm wishy-washy about going or haven't made up my mind yet or as if I'm waiting to see if circumstances or finances or something allow it. I mean, I'll say this about an event that I have tickets for and gas in my car prepared for. I can't really say for certain that I'm really going to go to Africa on Sunday. That's our plan, but God is in control. I'm making plans for the future of HM Magazine as we speak, but they are under the Lord's control. He's really in charge, not me. It's kind of funny how odd this seems -- even among my Christian friends -- but I am willing to stick out like a weirdo.

Will I freak out if a witch doctor approaches me with bones sticking out of his lip, waving a shrunken head walking stick in front of me? I admit, that'll be an odd thing to see, but I think about spiritual things on a fairly regular basis and I think I kind of stay aware of my belief that a real and Holy Spirit resides in me and I walk around with the potential authority of the Living God. I describe it like the card-carrying authority that an ambassador has on foreign soil. He represents the country he's from and in a sense wields its power. So, I believe I would expect God to move through me and the believers around me if a situation like that presented itself.

Will I be disappointed if I don't see any demons? Ha ha, that's a funny question, because it kind of reveals an expectation for the sensational. I can relate to that, though. I doubt I'll really be disappointed. My realistic expectations are to perhaps really be able to serve people. If I was going to volunteer at a soup kitchen in Austin on a certain day, I'd expect to be able to "get my hands involved" in a practical time of service, like dishing out mashed potatoes, or picking up cafeteria trays or stacking chairs afterwards, or cleaning up messes. That's kind of what I'm expecting, but again ... I try to keep an open mind to opportunities for the supernatural. If God wants to use me for something like that as well, I try to be available for that, too.

www.compassion.com/about/where/uganda

I SHOT MY EX-GIRLFRIEND WITH A .22 RIFLE

The author (of All The Clever Words On Pages) seems like a real nice, honest and funny guy... like he'd make a good friend. My heart really goes out to him. The experiences he describes sound so incredibly draining and frustrating... Wow!

I can relate to the pain he went through. I had a girlfriend in college that turned into an emotional rollercoaster. I discovered I liked her, I pursued her. She liked me. We dated for a while, kissed, held hands. Then it got awkward. She wasn't sure she liked me like I liked her. This was after spending some holiday time with her parents, etc. I learned all about her history and this other guy from Texas A&M (yuck) who she sorta broke up with in high school to date another dreamboat hunk sorta All-American guy. Dumping her "just friends" guy, breaking his heart. A couple years later in college, they realized that they were super compatable and a spark re-ignited. When she started dating me, she sorta left him on the side.

Not that I'm a superhunk, All American kinda guy, but imagining that I could fulfill that role felt good for the ego for a few days. So, even though I was the current guy holding her hand, I was made aware of this space in her heart that still liked Tim. So, she kinda broke up with me. I was okay with that. We still remained friends, but our friendship was so close and so every day that I couldn't help but remain in a broken heart condition for months. She'd come over about every day after school and, even though we enjoyed each other's company, I probably should've insisted for some space. Because being around her so often made me never lose sight of why I was attracted to her.

This is another story in itself, because she was kind of a preppy girl -- the kind that would be in a sorority, which is not my type. She wasn't really a knockout model type, just a clean, petite cute girl next door sorta looker. I was attracted to the Twila Paris in-love-with-Jesus inside of her. That's what I kept falling in love with over and over again. It kinda drove me crazy. A friend of mine, who was the leader of our campus fellowship, told me something one time that was perfect advice. I'm not sure he was giving it for the context of my situation, but he probably was, that wise old owl. He said this:

It takes two people wanting a relationship to work for it to work.
It only takes one of those two people not wanting it to work for the relationship not to work.

That takes all the spiritualizing out of it (which is another problem common with college-aged Christians, trust me). It's so simple. If one person in the relationship wants out, it ruins the relationship.

A year after I graduated, we were still friends. I told the story before about one time leading a door-to-door salesman to Christ at this girl's apartment. I kinda felt sleazy, because I knew in the back of my mind that my slick, persuasive communication skills (and boldness, mostly) were being used by God to help this high school kid come to Christ. I don't know if it was obvious or not, but that was kind of creepy to me, using something beautiful and innocent with the hopes of winning a girl's affection. Anyway, the win-the-affection part didn't work. We were still friends, though, because we each had a high respect for the other. She was intelligent, had a heart for missions, people, music, and the Lord. One time I was using a free week's membership at a health club to work out in the mornings before work. She joined me and one of these mornings she leaned over and kissed me in the jacuzzi. It's funny, because I kinda got mad at her for kissing me. It broke the status of our platonic friendship. I had closed my eyes in the jacuzzi and she thought it looked cute or something, so she kissed me on the cheek. Even though I was wising up to this pattern of in-and-out-of-the-dating-relationship thing, it still through my emotions for a loop and got my hopes up. It's funny, we had more than a few DTR's (that stands for a "Define The Relationship" talk...), it was hard to accept that I wasn't really her type.

Anyway, one day I finally realized that I emotionally needed to get past this relationship. In a general sense, I needed some time to hate her guts. I don't mean that literally, of course; but for lack of a better term, that's what I needed to do. I needed to stop loving her romantically and be mad at her for awhile ... and stay the heck away from her. I remembered a story my dad told me once about how stray dogs would sometimes get left on their family farm in Kansas every once in a while. The young dog would sometimes bond with my teenage dad, but his father would tell him, "You need to get rid of it," and my dad would have to shoot it. In a practical sense, they couldn't afford to feed every stray dog that got dropped off out there. Farmers, you see, don't often get caught up in the anthropomorphism that us city folks do. They see animals in their classic role in the food chain (that is, under us). Nevertheless, my dad would feel a tug in his heart as that poor little puppy would be looking up at him with those droopy, innocent-looking puppy eyes as he stared down the site of his .22 rifle before he shot the dog between the eyes. The finality of that dog's life ending and the detached emotions is the type of approach I needed to take with this unhealthy relationship.

I didn't imagine shooting her in the head or anything crazy like that. I just kind of applied that same sort of detached "Okay, it's over" type conclusion in my mind. Somehow, that found its way into my heart and I was "healed" of the emotional byproducts of this long relationship. Thank goodness, too! She ended up dating this awesome guy on the campus fellowship's worship team and they're happily married now. I'm glad for her. I had some good times with both of them and respect them both.

I doubt the author of that book will read this blog, but if I could have offered him any advice in the 2004-2006 and 2007 periods where this book was being lived out and written, it would have been to sever his emotional ties with this girl in the book in a similar way. I'm not sure how or why it worked for me, but it really seemed like I was able to inhale still hooked on this girl and exhale her outta my heart the next. Somehow my heart (my emotions, really) were able to follow the lead of my head and get on with my life. What a relief. Too bad I couldn't rescue this guy out of his circumstances (but I don't really mean that)...

I am fairly confident that this guy's journey will one day lead him back into the arms of his loving Father in Heaven. Even though this guy might identify himself as an "atheist" at the moment, I think that is just a temporary heart condition. Sometimes we get so beat up emotionally that we almost become numb as a way of dealig with it. It's a shame, but the pain that we experience can possibly help others going through the same thing.

Another thing I would have loved to have been able to help the guy get through is the confidence to throw away the compelling charismatic/prophetic/confusing mumbo-jumbo without walking away from the Lord. This is a tough one, because if we build a foundation upon experience or miracles or events or even doctrines, then if one "block" of that foundation has to be kicked out, it might scare us into thinking our entire foundation is awry. And maybe that's the case sometimes. Maybe we have to kick out a shaky foundation ... but I'm confident that we can trust God to help us put the "pieces" (or perhaps more aptly described: "new pieces") back together. And move on. It can be scary to look a well-meaning doctrine or "word" in the face and reject it, but sometimes we might have to do something like that. Not every doctrine that every Christian holds is true (obviously), and we are holding onto some mysterious things, so being willing to admit that we don't know everything can actually be liberating ... and we can still walk with God through our life without such and such doctrine.

Wilson Is Not Just A Volleyball [Uganda.13]

At church this past Sunday, we had a special visitor that spoke of an organization that helps empower people. He was from Uganda. He was a child that was sponsored by Compassion. He moved into the city with one of his sisters (and brother-in-law), who had 35 other children. Moving to the city gave him the opportunity to go to school and be sponsored by one of Compassion International's projects. Were it not for that sponsorship, he wouldn't have been able to go to school. In Uganda, you pay for your schooling directly, so many cannot afford to go. This empowered him to become what he is today. He's now working for an organization called Youthworks, and he's travelling around the USA right now telling people about his organization, which is one of many helping alleviate real suffering in places that are hit hard by HIV/AIDS.

How cool was it that this wonderful person was at our church the week before my wife and I leave for Uganda? It was great to see Wilson share about an organization that's helping others, which, in turn, allows believers here and there to partner in this work. That's cool. It's super neat to see another confirmation that Compassion sponsorships are real, practical and effective in helping and empowering people to rise up and change the world. That is just thrilling, in my book.

Here's a link to check out more about compassion.

AN APOLOGY IN ADVANCE

Okay, I reviewed this book in the new issue of HM and, for some folks, I might not have been as clear as expected when it comes to the content. Unlike album reviews, where we maintain a pretty high standard of awareness, etc; our dvd and book reviews aren't held to the exact same level of scrutiny when it comes to content like profanity or "objectionable material." Such is the case for one of the books I reviewed for the brand new (currently at printer) issue -- the March/April 2008 Issue #130. The book is called All The Clever Words On Pages. It was written by Paul Harrison. It is a fascinating read (albeit with plenty of the typo's you might expect from one of those print-on-demand self-publishing houses), which chronicles the friendship between the author and one of our scene's most charismatic frontmen -- Aaron Weiss of mewithoutYou.

It's such a compelling read on a number of levels. It offers a serious critique of a very special artist of our time. Aaron Weiss and gang are truly artists and, while misunderstood by some, are appreciated by a loyal and perceptive audience. People are impressed with the frank and transparent yet poetic nature of this band's art. So, this book offers an up-close look at the band from the perspective of one of these perceptive audience members. Weiss' lyrics certainly connected with the author on a number of levels. That's one side of the book that's really interesting.

Another side is the author's journey from agnosticism to re-embracing faith in Christ. You know that the book is about a journey when you read the quotes from inside on the back cover of the book. Aaron Weiss helps pull the author away from the brink of suicide. So, you know that this story is going to unfold and that part of the suspense is written well. A surprise ending that climaxes near the middle of the book, however, is how the author abandons his faith. At this time in his journey, he is an atheist. That's kind of a shock.

What helps "get him there," so to speak is one story after another of really weird charismatic and so-called "prophetic" experiences woven around a boy-girl relationship the author has. It wears on the reader, this troubling and frustrating journey does...

I neglected to mention in my review (on page 61 in the "Play" section) that the book includes a few uses of profanity and graphic language of the sexual nature. While many a "secular" book has no qualms about this kind of content, most Christian publishers edit this kind of material out. Many a Christian reader trusts that they won't come across this kind of language in a "Christian book" (or even in a book reviewed in a Christian music magazine). They might pick up a book to "get away from" the kind of language they hear all day at school, on tv, at work, etc. Judgment aside, this desire to read something profanity-free or "smut-free" is not a desire to be taken lightly.

I failed to stay the course with my sensitivity to this in my review, and thus the apology here. I'm sorry I didn't give more warning concerning the content of this book.

[Stay tuned for Part 2 of this blog...]