Circleslide

One question that is commonly and frequently asked of musicians is ‘who inspired you to get involved with music?’
Most of the time, the answer is usually a parent, or a teacher, and that is certainly the case with me. I feel, however, unusually blessed to have been inspired by a host of others…friends…friends who took the time to nurture and pour into my life in ways I could never fully pay back.

One such friend is John Ray. He and his amazing wife, Jane, like beautiful tapestries are intertwined and connected with some of my best memories.

Last week, I was going to drop John an email, or a call, as I watched Ken Burn’s documentary on our National Parks. As the camera panned over the Rocky Mountains, I remember John and I camping there for a few weeks. He and I would stupidly try to scale heights and mountain walls without proper gear, rope, or common sense. On one occasion, he had to climb back down to get me ‘unstuck’ from a position where I couldn’t go up or back down…about a hundred feet in the air…and so, when we reached the top, I exalted in the glorious view with a healthy sense of humility…and fear.

A fellow Texan, we would trade off driving, as we criss-crossed the nation in vans full of missionary students. Name that tune was a common past time, as well as stopping to investigate the beauty of nature that, too often, I now simply pass by.

In Texas we marveled at ‘enchanted rock’…in Memphis we cleaned out a house where cockroaches covered the walls like shiny, black wall paper…across the ocean, in Minsk, Belarus…we, like pilgrims of a new age, celebrated thanksgiving dinner with our translators…and laughed in dismay as ‘cranberry sauce’ and ‘stuffing’ were just a couple of the things that our Belarusian friends found infuriating about us…and in St. Petersburg, after the wildest train ride I’ve ever had, we both marveled at the majesty of St. Isaac’s cathedral, and the wonders inside the hermitage museum.

We became strong friends, in spite of the fact that he was 10 years my senior…he was a mentor, pushing me to make better choices as a musician, to trust my gut, to work with others in a musical setting. His wife, Jane, an accomplished artist, collaborated with me on the artwork for my first CD (through these thorns). She also drove Debbie to pick me up at the airport in Tulsa…John and I were working in El Paso together, and the meal the four of us shared could be considered one of our first ‘real’ dates, and I’m sure Jane and John got a kick out of watching our awkwardness that night…for I was in love, and all through the El Paso trip, I pestered John for advice.

Through the years, John has championed my musical journey even as he and Jane raised their four beautiful daughters, Hope, Hannah, Naomi, and Olivia to be lovers of God’s wild, exciting and sometimes dangerous plan.

Maybe you will understand, then, why it is that there is a darkness, a sadness, spear-like, puncturing my heart as I try to wrap my head around the fact that Saturday, 10 year old Olivia Ray…who in August had danced at our concert, wore her circleslide bag with pride as she helped us tear down our gear that night…Saturday she was hit by an SUV as she crossed the street, in a crosswalk, after attending a children’s athletic event…later she succumbed to internal bleeding and died.

Deb and I will drive to Arkansas, to be with our friends at the memorial service. We will try and offer comfort, we will try and understand how this fits into God’s design…but who knows if either will be found this side of eternity?…neither comfort or understanding seem to be very close right now.

If you know the Ray family, you know their spirit and their faith are strong…but it’s a sad overcast day here in Nashville…and my heart is flying over the scenery of happier times…and the world seems a bit emptier today.

-gabe

Just by way of an update, we played in Cary, North Carolina yesterday. It was a great show for us, for many reasons…one of them being that it marked a new time for us. Debbie, who has been booking us forever, turned over the reigns to Covenant Artist Agency…and we loved this show they got for us. The people of St. Francis Methodist Church treated us like family right away.

During the few days between San Antonio, and NC…we did some work on our show…and introduced two newer songs, “Samson” and “Gone”…and judging by the crowds reaction…’Samson’ could be one of those songs in the set that has the energy and intensity of a ‘weatherboy’ or ‘morning star’. We were talking after the show, about the need to stay in shape if we’re going to be doing this set, night after night…it’s quite the workout. I think I lose about 5lbs after every performance…but don’t worry…my body seems to know just what to eat to find them again.

It was also nice to see some very dear, dear friends from the past show up and support us at this concert…especially those who drove a long way to see us.  We love it when we get to see familiar faces singing along, or just lending us encouragement for a while. It always beats when people drive from far away just to hurl refuse and insults at us.

And now, we’re taking a couple of weeks of much needed rest. Eric and Libby are headed back to Seattle…Jonathan is headed back to Texas…Lee is off for Indiana…while Debbie and I fly out to Seattle as well…we’ll all be spending time with people we care for and love…resting, and getting ready for what God has in store for us this fall.

we’ll keep you informed of our progress…as always.

g

ps. the title has nothing to do with the post…unless you count ‘what is’ as the update part, and the ’should never be’ as the part about people throwing things at us…

wednesday, sept 9, 2009

The last summer has flown by us…ichthus festival, reunions in arkansas, camps in oklahoma, north dakota, and new hampshire, the fourth of july and prisons in michigan, the haunting beauty of new england and the heat and amazing food of my home in san antonio, texas…to name a few.

These places seem so distant from each other, in not only miles, but in climate, in  culture, in the way people go about their daily lives, and what they hold dear to their hearts.

And yet I couldn’t help but be awed by one common thread in all of our travels. Overwhelming me, knocking me flat on my keister, each time I saw it.

For some people it’s called ‘good manners’, for some it falls under the category of etiquette…and some have raised it to an art form…I’m talking about hospitality.

A crazy ancient practice that involves allowing strangers into your home, and treating them as equals…providing them with food, company and shelter.

In this band, I’ve experienced so much of this practice, that I unable to recount or remember everyone who has opened their home, their kitchen or their best room for me, my wife and the boys.

On this last trip, we were given lobster in Maine, in Michigan, we were given too many feasts to count, in georgia a mother of 4 boys cooked several mouth watering meals for all of us while going to nursing school at night… in my home state of texas we had to bring back the food in bags and coolers…we couldn’t carry it with our hands…bar-b-que, and tex mex food…we all gained at least 10 pounds…and loved every second of laughter and storytelling, and catching up.

People slept on floors so we could have the best room in the house…groceries were purchased with items reserved for kings and queens…and all this during a Down Economy. I am so undeserving of this kindness…really. All we do is write and perform songs for an hour… maybe an hour and a half. I’m dumbfounded and humbled by it all.

And the thing is, one day I’m sharing a phenomenal meal with someone who I know is decidedly left of me politically…and the next night…someone is sheltering me and cooking something exquisite for me who I know is to my right.

And in the backround, on the television, the noise says we are all just too different, too divided, too far apart to hear each other over the yelling, and the screaming and the anger and the name calling.

I know the issues facing us are real, and important.

But I’ve been reminded that in the living rooms, and kitchens, and porches, and back yard barbeques across this country…there are still people who care to give each other the best. Who will bend over backwards to make sure your belly is full, that you have a good night’s rest and that you have enough gas for the next journey. And it restores my soul…this unified heartbeat…this demonstration of genuine kindness.

It’s a true reflection of a Father who loves us and cares for us…in spite of our shortcomings…and I just wanted to say, ‘thank you’ to all of you for doing this for us…a reassurance that a flame still burns in the hearts of the faithful.

See you soon.

gabe