212--Happy Valentine's Day

Vegas is getting old. We've been together coming up on 12 years! I remember the day he picked me. I hate it that death is one of the rules of this world. It's just rude, the way it interrupts life and relationship. I've really enjoyed my time with this animal. In the next few years one of us will have to wish the other Godspeed until we meet again. Do dogs go to heaven? If they do, this one should.

I don't know the story of St. Valentine, and I'm sure google would gladly tell it to me, but I'm not in the mood to search right now. I've been for a walk, sat by the fire, feeling very content and cozy = not motivated toward research at this moment. These are the lazy musings of a man detached.

I love so many people. I'm loved by so many people. Life is full of this honorable exchange. This weekend and today, I consider what it means that I love my family above and beyond all others. If I love them more, does that also mean I feel safe enough in their company to be the person I truly am when other's aren't watching? Why do we yell at each other and degrade with our words those we claim to love more than the rest?

One time Suzanne said to me, "I wish you would treat me like you treat your friends." I totally get what she meant. I give respect to acquaintances and colleagues who aren't stuck with me and have to stay here and take my crap. But I forget to give the same respect to the people who are stuck with me, either because of a promise they made or because this where they landed.

This dog is my family and that means he gets my time and attention today and everyday, first and before the many phone calls and emails that clamor for attention. I want to meet new people and I want to tell stories to excited new faces and I want to sell you my cds and tshirts, and we're gonna do that, but my highest ministry call is to the ones who dwell with me--Vegas, my church, my village.

Why do pastor's wives and children feel the neglect of watching their men love tenderly and fiercely outside, come home too exhausted to give any more, and simply refuel in silence the better to sally forth again? Am I exaggerating? The why do PK's have the reputation we do? Something inside tells us it's unfair to know that a man capable of such love will direct his attentions everywhere but home to the ones closest and allegedly most precious. All this in the name of God and one begins to question God's way of loving.

By the way, this isn't a dogs-are-people-too Valentines message. I'm just saying the dog is the one who's perceived as having less power in this relationship, and we can tell a lot about your Love ethic by the way you treat those who cannot demand of you. They can only ask. Sure you love those who can do something for you, those you perceive as having power over you. But do your children and your dog agree that you are a loving person?

'Cause I'll take their word for it.

Janelle, thanks for letting me hold the baby.

Happy Valentine's Day, Beautiful...

Go Love your family, Strender

215--Post Rehearsal

Not going to Arizona this weekend after all. We're rescheduling for later in the year. Immediately there's the opportunity to fill this weekend with visits and encounters here in Oregon. But I think I'm really going to just rest and rehearse this weekend. I have a couple dinners and conversations already committed. Nothing new. Just going to read and relax and take naps in between singing and playing my guitar, which, after an entire 2-hour rehearsal, did not run out of tune. Thank you, Ken Cartwright.

Another good rehearsal with the guys tonight. That's our third rehearsal for the concert in CA next week. We feel like we need at least another. I mean, it's gonna be great when we've been playing together for months and we've tightened up our turns and made more mid-song appointments with each other, but for the concert next week, we gotta at least put in one more session.

I love these guys' musicianship. They're so full of surprises. We're working on Calling It Joy this evening, and Anthony sort of mind-wanders for a few seconds and then comes back with this straight-up authentic caribbean beat.

I was like, "how does an italian boy from an Oregon smalltown have that in him?"

He's like, "O yeah, one time when I was in high school I heard this Brazilian percussion group... so right now I just thought, what would they play?"

The thing that Kevin and Anthony do on State of Compromise is so right, me and Isaac should just walk off stage and get something to drink while they're playing, cause it doesn't need anything else.

Darlene's doing a photo shoot with the band pretty soon.

In the meantime, quick one-shot while chatting after rehearsal, here's Isaac. He's my friend. He plays a mean guitar. You should come meet him at our concert in Laguna Niguel on the 20th. Then he'll be your friend too, if you ask nicely.

Goodnight, Beautiful...

Goodnight, Strender

215--Cartwright

"Man, happy guitars don't do that!"

That's Isaac in reference to my guitar running out of tune every few songs.

"You gotta get that guitar happy. You need Ken Cartwright."

I called Ken today and he happened to have a slot in his schedule to see my guitar. Thanks so much for your time, sir. I'll have to take it back in when it can stay longer so we can get that brace tightened and the edges re-strapped. We'll get to that after I come back from California.

Now grabbing some dinner and off to rehearsal with Kevin at 6; Isaac and Anthony join us at 7.

Keep it pushin'....

216--Schlepping

General asked me how I like my job.

I love my job!!!

In a down economy, when people are enduring 24-month stretches without employment, I arrived here on Friday and started work the following Monday. Because of relationship. They say it's all about who you know. I say it's all about who knows you. Stevie Whited and Jeff Meader and Tim Moore and Melissa Fredrickson combined their good will toward me with the providential result that I have a job.

Today I'll schlep 50-pound boxes from table to pallet, from one pallet to another, from the ground up to a stack at full reach of my vertical extension. These are taxing movements on the body. Resistance causes strengthening. Other people pay to go to the gym--I get paid.

Today I'll learn new software operations and internal company protocols. I'll forget things and make mistakes and course-correct or submit to the watchfulness of someone less absent-minded. It's an exercise in presence. I have to focus and stay right there in that moment, concentrated on the particular task in front of me.

Sure I'm excited about the possibility of traveling to Arizona this weekend, but today, for the next 11 hours, my hands belong to cardboard and wine, 50 pounds at a time. Whatsoever your hands are doing, give it all you got.

I told General I've loved all my jobs. Not only because I've always seemed to work with amazing people, but because I've really only ever had one job--Music Facilitator.

The titles vary, and the uniform, but the job is the same: When I'm calling bingo numbers, I'm getting money so we can eat and pay rent so we can live and be strong so we can make music. When I'm coordinating and producing a video shoot or a film project, I'm earning value so we can gain resource so we can continue the dance of making music.

This year He continues to pull the curtains further back. It's not the music that I love so much--it's the connection that it fosters between us. Between me and Him. Between me and you. Between us and Him. It's the meeting place, the common ground. That the common ground is the holy ground, this is what intrigues me.

To stand in that place, to dwell there, I would do what it takes, with a smile. I would schlep boxes today, and love it.

photo by Julie Kim

Have a great day, Beautiful...

Shoulder up, Strender

217--There's a difference

There's a difference between being busy and being productive. There's a difference between being driven and being led. There's a difference between being called and being chosen. Many are called--few are chosen.

There's a difference between being talented and being skilled. I am weary with being talented.

Also, this just in. I'm not a nice person. No seriously, I often consider it a non-compliment when someone refers to me as nice. Then I realize, they're not trying to insult me, they just don't know me all that well. There's a difference between being kind and being nice.

Good morning, Beautiful...

Good morning, Strender

220--Mayor's Ball

It's 12:32 in the morning and I'm just getting home from the Mcminnville Mayor's Ball. Such a good time. I was there as a guest of Kristi's, to whom congratulations are due for her promotion to branch manager, US Bank, Corvallis, Oregon.

I met some amazing people this evening, including the Mayor.

Now I'm printing song charts for the worship team for tomorrow's music. Actually, it's almost one in the morning, so I should say today's music. We're going to invite the community to focus on Holiness during this worship time. God's holiness and the holiness he inspires, creates, imparts and bestows on us.

On the way home from the Mayor's Ball, stopped by Leroy Critcher's studio and met him, finally. He was playing live music with Grady O'Kenzie on upright bass. They graced us with an incredible performance of a Sonny Rollins tune, and I knew from the first phrase that I'd like to be taught by this guy. Cards and numbers exchanged, I'll be in touch with Leroy early this week to schedule a lesson. He also offered that I could play at his shop some Saturday night to open for his duo. What an honor that would be!

I love to dance. And dance we did, this evening at the Mayor's Ball.

Goodnight, Beautiful...

Goodnight, Strender

222--Exhausted

Tired from a full day. 7 hours of music rehearsal today! The last two hours of that was with Kevin Nichols on bass, Isaac on guitar, Anthony on drums, and Lennox on cloud 9. Much lovin' it.

Tomorrow I'm gonna have to chill, seriously. I'm deep-fried. I want to just put my feet up, and read. Eat some good grub and move slowly. Does my body even remember how to sleep in? Let's find out.

Goodnight, Beautiful...

Goodnight, Strender