It just seems like a lot…
I was lying in my bed NOT sleeping.
The room was dark and cool but my brain just wouldn’t stop spinning…
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From March to June, in the midst of the upheaval that has affected the entire world, we found ourselves unexpectedly stranded overseas - shows were cancelled or postponed, plans were put on hold…
And we found ourselves CHALLENGED to continue in our mission to share the love of Jesus - so we began to brainstorm - we wrote new music and started a podcast…
AND we discovered the rugged, beautiful coastline of Biarritz, France, and decided to start filming…
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Five minutes earlier, the fog had been so thick that it had felt like a cloud was covering the earth - the fields in front of me had been shrouded in thick whiteness and the tree line ahead of me was almost impossible to see.
But…. then the sun had risen, and the mists had burned away - everything had changed in what seemed like a few seconds.
The sky and the landscape were clear and bright.
But my mind was still spinning…
I had just turned thirteen, and we had arrived in South Africa a few days before. We were scheduled to spend a few weeks doing ministry and exploring the country and then we would head to Mozambique.
To sleep in tents.
In the jungle…
Surrounded by mosquitos which may or may not carry malaria…
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The French side-street was completely dark.
The air would be comfortably warm in a few hours, but at the moment, I still had my chin buried in the collar of my sweater for warmth.
I was deliberately walking in the center of the road in order to avoid startling anyone being a six-foot man walking the streets at an unlikely hour.
My brain half-registered the cold and my strategic choices, but I wasn’t really paying attention…
“God, please… just help me.”
I could feel the thin, industrial grade carpet even through the knees of my jeans, and it felt worse against the bare skin of my palms - raspy and unforgiving.
I was kneeling by myself in the deserted upper hallway of a lecture building at Northwestern University and actually - physically - shaking.
Badly.
hit my pencil lightly against the open notebook that was resting on my lap as I watched the morning sunlight bounce off the fresh snow, filter through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the large room, and brighten the varnished pine walls. I pulled my knit sweater tightly around me and soaked in the warmth of the wood burning fire.
“In just a second I’m going to invite my daughter, Kailah, to share something with you…”
My dad gestured toward me with his hand…
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"Wow..." I shook my head and leaned down to grab a dirty rubber cable from the linoleum floor.
"Yeah, that was... interesting. Those guys were kind of crazy - it seemed like they had a really good time." My son-in-law, Pierre, was working beside me, moving intently to gather cords and equipment.
It was November, 2019. We had just finished our last show at a dinner club in Moldova and were both feeling the pressure to pack up our equipment quickly - we still had a long drive ahead of us, and if we didn't hurry, we knew that wouldn't arrive at our next town until after midnight…