Do you believe in Angels? I do. They play a leading part in the story of my life. One of my favorite bands is the contemporary rock group “Train”. They released the song “Calling All Angels” on their album, titled “My Private Nation”. Today, I had yet another encounter with Angels, the real ones. Some [...]
This blog and website is a resource for church musicians. It is my hope that it provides useful insight into the practical matters of music ministry, a “how-to” site, if you will. I encourage you to share your thoughts and comments, and if you find the information here useful, that you share it with your [...]
I returned to OBC this month as a camper, after being out for several weeks with the injury I sustained back in March. Determined to do everything right, I’ve been logging food and completely eliminated alcohol, soft drinks, and fried foods. I’ve increased my veggie intake, and have been spot on plan. At the beginning of each month, we ask people to stay off their scale for the entire 30 days. There are legitimate reasons for this. I however, cheated. I couldn’t believe the results. Perfect on plan food and 100% attendance for two weeks and the result was a loss of three pounds. Even though it was three pounds in the right direction, I didn’t rejoice. I was angry (this is one reason why we ask people to stay off their scales). In the back of my mind, I was trying to rationalize that my body was still getting used to being back in the mode of exercising again. Nope, that can’t be it. The effort still doesn’t reconcile with the effort. My mind flashed back to this past Tuesday…
When I arrived at camp, I had Scott Munn check my book. During our conversation, he asked me about the morning entry of “Shake”. I explained that for the last few months I had been using a soy based protein shake as a recovery drink when I get home. I usually throw the powder, milk, and some frozen fruit in the blender and use it to wash down my vitamin pack. Scott cautioned me to check out the caloric intake of the protein mix, stating that they are usually relatively high in calories. Looking down at the scale, I had the realization that the shake was the likely suspect.
Down to the kitchen, lets measure it out. With the amount of milk I was using to consume my vitamin pack, in addition to the 280 calories a serving for the protein mix, my recovery shake adds up to 800 calories before throwing in the fruit!!! The morning day starter I was using in my nutritional plan has 100 more calories than a large Chik-Fil-A Cookies and Cream Milkshake. I can’t believe that I didn’t realize this.
If weight loss is your goal, you have to watch the details. The instructor team goes over alot of the “gotcha’s” at the beginning of the month. Our intention isn’t to have you walking around with a calorie counter, but to pay attention to what choices you’re making. There’s 9 workouts left this month. I’m hopeful to see better results without the additional 7,200 calories that the shake would have cost me…! Hoo-ah!
Three years ago, I met my friend Brother Sean Rogers. He is a Catholic Missionary to the lost, the disenfranchised, and the homeless. I cannot remember how we got in each others way, but I do remember the first time I met him in person. I was playing a solo acoustic gig to support his Deep Waters Ministry at the Old Tucker Fountain. It was a great night, with dear friends of mine that drove a great distance to come and hear me play. After the gig, Sean and I kept in touch. It was great to get to know Sean over the phone, from a distance, from the comfort of my home or vehicle. Each phone call with him revealed just a bit more light on how he thinks, and why he carries on this mission with such devotion. For three years we would talk, txt, and Facebook about what’s happening in our respective ministries. Throughout these dialogues, he would extend the invitation…”When are you going to come out and minister with me?”. I evaded, deflected, and gracefully had other things to do. My wife and I invited Sean down to Peachtree City for Cinco De Mayo. Peachtree City is a golf cart community, so we took Sean for a ride through the trails to dinner. On the drive home from dinner, I sent the family in the car so Sean and I could talk on the golfcart. I was brazen enough to finally tell him why I hadn’t been out with him. “Sean, you’re ministry is uncomfortable. I wouldn’t know what to say to a homeless guy. I can’t identify with the struggles of a prostitute or drug addict. I wouldn’t know what to say.” Sean paused for a brief moment, and said to me…”Why don’t you start with hello. It really is just that simple”.
On the Thursday before Memorial Day, I ventured out into Deep Waters with Sean for the first time. As I begin my drive into the city, severe storms are pounding the area. As I am backing out of my driveway, a microburst let loose and I sit there watching the trees buckle in my yard as my pickup truck swayed from side to side. “It’s a sign”, I thought. My stubbornness has me continue, and so I put the truck into gear and moved out. The storms intensify on my way out of town. I end up taking shelter at the parish where I work for fear of a tornado in the area. From the safety of my office, I call Sean, half hoping that with the dangerous weather in the area that we will agree to cancel the evening plans. “Come on up” he says. “The people we are visiting with are still out there”. He was referring of course, to the homeless and the prostitutes. Yes, they will still be out there, and I was still in my office. Back in the truck, and motoring out of town, there are power lines down and trees crossing the roads. This is way, far away out of my comfort zone. I eventually arrive in Atlanta and pick him up outside the motel where he lives and we begin driving down Piedmont road. I am apprehensive about heading out into the streets, and I’ll share that at this point I am completely under the influence of the Holy Spirit. As we come down Piedmont near I-85, Sean instructs me to turn under the highway. I couldn’t see an opening, but he insists that I turn just past this enormous concrete pillar. In faith, I pull the truck off Piedmont road and turn through this little narrow gate in the fencing. “Turn on your hazard lights and let’s go” he says. As I get out of the truck, I stand under the enormity of an Atlanta superhighway. It’s noisy, dark, and intimidating. Sean begins walking down a dirt hill towards a set of railroad tracks. I look back at my truck, probably a quarter of a mile away now. I can see the hazard lights broadcasting through the darkness. A thought comes to me that I have stored a great deal of my guitar rig in the bed of the truck, valuable gear that I cannot afford to replace. “Trust in God” I think to myself and turn back towards the path to the railroad tracks. We walk past a burning garbage pile, probably being burned for functional purpose. After crossing the tracks, I notice the dense woods surrounding the area. At this point, we are close to a half mile in from the road and heading up an incline towards the place where the earth once again meets the darkness of I-85. Sean stops and calls up into the shadows…”Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, it’s Brother Sean here to see you”. Moments later, a woman comes down and eagerly embraces Sean. Sean introduces me to the woman, named Nicole, and Nicole walks over to me and gently takes my hands into hers and hold me by the hands like a treasure. She is looking into my eyes as she says to me, “I’m really glad that you’re here”. Immediately, my apprehension and fear subsided, just as the storms had earlier that night. I can literally feel relief pour out of my flesh. We speak for just a minute as she continues holding my hands, and then she turns and we all start walking up the hill to visit. At the top of the hill, the steel beams supporting I-85 are just a few feet overhead. There is an older gentlemen laying under a sleeping bag getting some rest, and another man sitting on the concrete pillar supporting the massive highway. There is broken glass and debris all over the ground where the man is laying down. We visit for a few minutes, as they share with us the news of the day. Someone had just raided Nicole’s makeshift home further down away from the structure that surrounds us. They had taken a few things and disturbed her entire setup. It doesn’t go without my notice that while she wasn’t thrilled about that, it wasn’t the end of the world to her. She just moved on. Sean wraps up the conversation by letting them know that he loves them, and that God loves them, and they matter to them both. They recite this with him. It’s obvious to me that it’s not his first time here. As we were walk back down the hill towards the tracks, it strikes me how the last bit of daylight is dancing on the trees outside the steel structure of the overpass. The trees that I am referring to along the rail path are below the highway surface, and are likely never seen by the cars passing overhead. The beauty of the setting makes me stop and stare for a moment. As I stand in the darkness, seeing the serenity of the trees and peacefulness of that space it causes me to realize that God is here. I turn and share my thoughts with Sean, and he replies to me that “yes, it is beautiful. I would come here anyday before I would goto a shelter.” For some reason, this exchange keeps playing in my head, even until now as I write this.
As we cross back over the rail line and begin to emerge from the dusky underpass towards my truck, a man approaches us. Sean, again, greets him in the name of the Lord. The man introduces himself to us as “Dwight”, and Dwight asked us how the people down under the bridge were doing. He explained that he had recently found a job, and was trying to watch out for the people we had just visited with. He was discouraged because the job he was working was “under the table” and paying him cash, and he wanted to be doing things the “right way”. He shared with us that he had recently been released from prison, and that he was doing the best he could to rebuild his life. He wants nothing more than to see and take care of his kids. When he finds out that Sean was a missionary, he gives him a big hug and asks if we can all pray together. Dwight put his arms around Sean and I as we pray for his situation. He pulls us in so tight that it’s physically uncomfortable at times. During our prayer, it becomes obvious to me that Dwight is soaking wet from walking through the rain. At the end of our prayer time, Dwight recites the 23rd psalm and knows it spot on. I can tell that the Psalm is a source of hope and inspiration for him. He’s grateful for the prayer, and Sean gives him his card so that he could reach him if he needs anything. After saying our goodbye’s, it’s time to get in the truck and turn towards Little Five Points, where Sean’s ministry began 20+ years ago.
To be continued…This blog post is the story of one night out on the streets with Sean. There is so much to share, that I will need to break this into a few separate entries. Pray for the poor today, pray for the homeless…pray for those in need.
Who are the people speaking words into your life, and what are they saying to you? Are they building up your gifts, your talents, your potential, or are they planting seeds of doubt, uncertainty and fear?
Last night I had the opportunity to attend an evening with Frank Kelly. Frank has gifts from the Holy Spirit that include discerning word of knowledge and healing. Google that for more info! When Frank prayed with me, he spoke words into my life. What he shared with me could only have come from God. It was a message of love, of hope, and of peace. What he shared was a very personal glimpse of my faith walk right now. He encouraged me to reach out to specific Saints and ask for their intercession.
My challenge to you is to take the next 7 days and pay attention to what words people are speaking into your life and determine if they are leading you where you want to be. If you find that people are speaking words of doubt and fear into your life, there’s a reason they are planting those seeds and you need to discern the value of that relationship. The good news is that you get to choose if those seeds land on fertile soil or rocky ground.
It’s important to rest. I write this having just returned from New Orleans, Louisiana. My wife and I met up with dear friends (and new friends) that we only get to see once or twice a year. We spent 3 days in the sun listening to amazing musicians and celebrating with good food while relaxing in our lawn chairs. After the overloaded schedule of Easter and all the Confirmation prep, it was a welcome break.The rest brought a different dynamic, it changed my pattern. And then I tied my time off to my occupation…
Do not underestimate the impact of the rest. I have always said that the greatest struggle of the weekend musicians is that they overplay, everything. I find this especially true of those that do not have a middle or high school band/orchestra background. Rests are written into musical scores on purpose. In school band, it’s not uncommon to rest for several measures, or even entire sections. In that setting, you learn to be patient and appreciate the value of rest. It’s okay to lay back, and serve the song. When you do lay back as an instrumentalist, your impact is much greater when you are playing. It feeds a breathing dynamic. Hearing a band that is “All on, all the time” is taxing on the ear. Liturgy has a dynamic all it’s own. It builds and drops, sounds and silence.
Give some space to rest. Sometimes the greatest notes are the ones not played…
I am grounded, for an undefined amount of time. A few months ago at work, I picked up a guitar amplifier the wrong way and something popped inside me. At my follow on appointment this week, I shared with him that I’m still hurting when I run and do specific activities. His advice to me was relatively pedestrian, saying, “Then you need to stop doing things that make you hurt”. He also strongly cautioned me to get the excess weight I’ve been carrying back off before attempting a return to any impact training, because the weight will compound the problem. With my first triathalon 4 weeks away, and the Chicago Marathon training runs kicking off, I was pretty deflated.
Time for plan “B”. I know I am at the top end of my weight swing, so it’s time to refocus my energy on the nutrition side. Remember that in weight loss, nutrition is 80% of the formula, and exercise is 20%. You can’t workout hard, eat whatever you want, and lose weight. I can also focus on lifting and upper body core exercise, which will move me into my goal of taking up kayaking this summer. That’s a very big positive for me. Lastly, I can still focus on pool time and technique.
I am disappointed that things are what they are. I could sit around and complain about it, or I could keep moving forward down a new path and eventually get back to my regular training activity. I’m going to keep moving.
For the last few months, I have been a fitness disaster. One step forward, two steps back. I just have to keep moving forward knowing that I will gain some momentum. Last week my respiratory system finally gave in to bronchitis after fighting it for three weeks. I attribute that to not getting the needed amount of sleep, not getting the necessary exercise, and poor food choices. See the cycle? Not being in balance. This morning, I decided to take a quick two mile run and my first ride on the new bike in an effort to clear out my chest and get past the residual effects of my chest crud. It was hard to keep my wind, and the injury I’ve been dealing with still hurt, but it didn’t kill me. I had to “tri”, because I have deadlines and goals that are looming…
The group I run with has already begun the Saturday run schedule, and they started last weekend with a distance further than I’ve run in months. I am already behind. The triathalon I am doing in June is racing closer. Even if I’m not at par, I need to be making progress. A final check on the injury tomorrow with the doc should clear me to train with clear marks.
I train better when I am with a group, with a goal, with a deadline. What motivates you?
Everyone has great ideas. Everyone has opinions. Ideas and opinions are nice because there is little to no effort in formulating them. They come naturally to us.
We need ball carriers. The ball carrier takes an idea/opinion, and DOES something with it. Ball carriers MOVE the ball forward. Every individual, organization, household, and society can output millions of ideas in a day. I believe that people are scared of being the ball carrier, because there’s a risk of getting tackled. Everyone wants to knock down the ball carrier. Thee are people that make a lifestyle out of knocking people down, and smashing the dreams of others. You should eliminate these people from your life. Unfriend them on facebook, and stop returning their phone calls.
My challenge to you…Take one, singular idea you have, and move it forward to make you, your organization, your household, or your society a better place. Do it today. Take the hit. It’s worth it.
We just wrapped up our Easter weekend liturgies. Now it’s time to relax a bit before we get into First Holy Communion on May 14th. Right now is the best time to sit down with your ministry teams and talk through what went well, what could have gone better, and make notes for next year. Example…Did we have everything packed for our off campus overflow masses? Did we need more detailed notes about load in, rehearsal, or soundcheck times? Did we have spare batteries for the wireless mic’s for Father and Deacon? (we did, by the way). Jot some notes down, and make a future calendar entry for next year to make sure everything gets done. Do this while it’s fresh in your mind, and next year’s Holy Week will be a breeze, allowing you to focus on Him instead of chasing down that extra power strip. (Which we did NOT have)! Best, Greg
Okay, so this morning I returned to Operation Bootcamp after nursing this injury for a few weeks. Tough workout, but it was great to be back and see friends. Guts and Guns ab and arms workout with bands. Definitely one of my favorite.
After rolling the kids to school, I journeyed down to the city aquatic center and tried my first laps in the pool. I made it through 250 yards, stopping at the turns. This was encouraging, given that I’ve never swam for fitness. There’s six weeks left until the whistle sounds for the open water swim, so I am confident that I will be ready for the 400 yards. I’ve been watching video’s like this one by Dave Scott to try and learn good technique. Today’s focus was on body position and stroke. I think I’ll focus on breathing next so I don’t drink half the pool again. Even though it was a tough workout, it felt great to be in the pool.
Tomorrow, first official ride on the new bike after meeting with my crazy OBC friends. Let’s get moving…
