For anyone whose been anywhere.

Anyone whose been anywhere for any length of time may experience any or all of what I am about to tell you about. You leave, you come back, and a good portion of you feels like whatever is in between those two statements never happened. Home is just so homey, the familar just so familiar. It's like whatever you do to shake things up in life, the snow in the snowglobe still settles on those fixed miniature snowmen, christmas trees, and little cabins all the same. The first few weeks back are always a bit of a feeling out, "OK, what things actually changed?" It's as if my life is an etch-a-sketch, as if even on the plane ride home the airplane's turbulence is starting to erase the lines that I didn't go back over enough times during my experience.

I've been home a total of 10 days now, and the snow is starting to settle and the etch-a-sketch is starting to get frustrated that despite the shaking, there's still some lines that won't erase. There's a few things that I believe have changed.

I've been able to separate my depression from my spirituality and self-worth. I wrote a bit about this near the end of my trip, but this is a big change to being able to function well. It is a beautiful thing to wake up feeling terribly depressed, and yet being able to realize that God is still at work in this day, that I am still awesome, and that I can still be a blessing to those around me. It's as if I have been able to corner whatever virus lurks in my mind and let it know that it can only affect me in the places it exists, it can't spread into places it really doesn't belong.

I've also been able to appreciate each day. Every day on my trip I would write a journal entry. Where I was, who I met, what I ate, what I learned, what great puns I thought up but didn't have anyone to tell. I find it creates in me a sense of appreciation for each day. The Psalm I am reading this week says, "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Not that I think that every day needs to be some hyper spiritual event filled with life-altering conversations and activities, but more so that each day was meant to happen. Each day is a essential part of my life, not to be skipped through or thought of as inconsequential. It makes me a bit more thankful. It makes me a bit more prayerful. It makes me a bit more purposeful.

The last thing is that I have a healthy sense of hope. "As for me, I will always have hope, I will praise your name more and more. My lips will speak of your righteousness, my tongue will tell of your salvation, though I know not its bounds... though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again... You will increase my honor and comfort me once again." (Psalm 71) Going on a bike trip across Canada I think helped me get excited about exploring life again. I can do exciting things. I can do different things. I can change and become a different person. I'm not done growing, appreciating beauty, seeing new things. And in all those things, I have the grace to make mistakes and ask forgiveness. That learning things is OK, and trying things I am not good at is necessary to finding things you love.

Some people don't need to leave to find thankfulness, gratefulness, and purpose in life. I think I need to leave more often than I do in order to get my self-awareness back in check. I encourage you, if you need a break, take it. Work, school, and people will always wait. You can stand to miss weddings, you can catch up with people when you get back, money will always be there to be earned. But life can easily rush past instead of being lived.

Halifax to home

This morning I wrestled my sister's and mine bikes into boxes for shipping. It was a bit of a process getting the boxes, of which I'll spare you the gory details, and packing them up was no easier. I used up an entire roll of packing tape getting all 129lbs of bicycles and gear into these cardboard vessels for shipping to Prince George. After 5787km of worrying about my means of transportation and subsistence, my immediate belongings are reduced to a new MEC backpack with some clothes, toothbrush, and a cooking pot I forgot to pack.

As you may be able to tell by my gradually decreasing posts and pictures, my trip documentation is growing more sparse. Not that the trip is any less enjoyable, but my capacity to care about social media is starting to wear thin. So, some of this blog may be lacking details...

PEI: beautiful, red earth, great potatoes, I learned that Anne of Green Gables isnt a real person, Cavendish is a ghost town when its not a tourist town.
One story I will elaborate on was one morning Shannon and I woke up in a gravel pit. We just started biking away when a fierce looking dog with an even more fierce bark started running towards us. Unforunately for this fierce dog, he was also wearing a cone on his head that was a fierce shade of neon green that stuck out past his snout. He bobbed along beside us for a short time clearly trying to make up for his temporary impotence by louder barks, which we shortly drowned out with out laughter.

It was great to be able to see and hang out with Shannon. She always has a way of drawing out good conversation. Probably because she is just genuinely interested in people, and especially so if you are lucky enough to be a relative that she loves more than she ought to. It was good to be able to process with someone a bit of what I've learned and experienced and to catch up on her life as well. It encourages me to see how God has moved in her life to bring her into a job she seems made for and a relationship that seems, while unconventional, perfect for both of them. It gives me hope to see how she has been dragged through the mud in alot of instances in her life but it has brought her through to somewhere she couldn't have dreamed up for herself.

One of the more important instrospections I think I had during the week was realizing that I moralize things that ought not to be moralized. Having perfectionist tendencies in most areas of life, failure becomes a wrong as opposed to a learning experience. The bridge in one of my songs goes: I'm sorry when I think my hands are just as big as yours, I'm truly sorry that I can't be everything to everybody all of the time.
Relationships, friendships, generosity, work, community, faith.
These are all areas that I have failed at during the course of my life and have put on them a weight of morality instead of an appropriate grace-covered learning experience. It's not that I am bad these things, just stupid. That may not sound better... but it is! I can handle being stupid! But if my mind puts me in a state of being perpetually morally wrong, that is pretty fertile soil for my mind to make a mess of me.

And now I am in Halifax. It is lovely to be able to spend time with my good friend Graham. We went to the much recommended "Lower Deck" pub. I was very surprised at how busy it was! There was a bouncer, and we had to pay a cover and were sent to the top of this monster 4 story pub. Wall to wall people. "This is crazy I thought! Is it like this all the time?" Apparently we chose the night of Alexander Keith's birthday party to show up at this joint! So we joined the throng outside to watch "Signal Hill" play a bunch of covers and watch freshly imbibed participants try and dance.
We also went on a beautiful hike on a stormy day along the coast. It was a trail only locals would really know, we had to scoot up someones driveway for a time and it ended at an old cement bunker looking out.
I just got back from a thoroughly enjoyable coffee with another friend Keaton Gairns.

My flight leaves at 6:40am tomorrow morning. I will steal back 4 hrs as I cross time zones and be in vancouver half past noon. Crazy to be heading back home. The sensation of flying over in 8 hours what took me 10 weeks to bike across will be surreal. I am sure I will need one or two more blog posts to reflect on what I have discovered and learned. I go back to work the Tuesday after thanksgiving on a week long trip to Tsay Keh Dene for diabetes work. Look forward to seeing many of you soon.

Finding myself in the palliative ward of a hospital.

After my last post, I walked around Moncton some more. Like all cities out here, it has alot of beautiful architecture and beautiful trails by the water. I was near an old church when Fernand, the man who had offered to let me stay at his place earlier, drove by. He hailed me over and invited me to dinner with him and a friend.

We ate at "Calactus", which I think roughly translated means: holy-crap-this-restaurant-is-amazing-despite-being-Vegetarian-only. Turns out he is a doctor. And also a music appreciater and dabbler. He also cycles and is much more active than I ever plan to be (he has done over 100 triathlons and has done 15 world loppets! Which will mean nothing to you unless you are an avid cross-country skiier, look it up...). We had some good conversation, and turns out his wife is in the hospital. She has been fighting cancer for 14 years with 3 recurrences, a tough woman. A few days earlier she had finally been switched over to palliative care. And yet this man was still so hospitable and warm.

They left, paid for my dinner, and brought his wife some take-out from the restaurant. He gave me his address and said he'd be home in a couple hours. I then proceded to slowly make my way to his house, stopping to phone various friends and catch up.

I arrived at his house around 8:30 and shortly thereafter busted out the musical instruments and beer. Mandolins, acoustics, electric guitars, harmonicas, instruments from all over the world (he is a collector). He listened to and appreciated my songs, and we jammed to covers he knew. It was midnight before we knew it and retired for the evening. A truly great night.

In the morning we had breakfast. Over breakfast I asked him what it was like to be a doctor and have a wife dying in the hospital. "You really learn who your friends are. Some colleagues don't even acknowledge it. It is like they are scared, or do not know what to say. I would rather have them say anything, even if they accidentally say something insensitive, than nothing." After breakfast he sort of sheepishly asked me, "Would you be willing to come up and see my wife? To play a few songs?" I happily agreed.

And so I found myself in the palliative care ward of the Moncton hospital, playing music with a beautiful couple who have had a long road battling cancer. She was tired. She was appreciative. She doesn't have much longer left on this earth. He is figuring out what life will look like now. I said goodye and thanked his wife. 

"What is your song about, that first one you played?" He asked me after.
"It's a song about trusting God. I wrote it in my third year of nursing school during my toughest semester both inside and outside the classroom. Its a prayer for me to really believe God's goodness, and his ability to use hard things. It's sort of a mental check for me to reorient my mind to believe that He is faithful."

It felt weird to say that to a man who is suffering hopefully more than I will ever know. But I really do believe those truths, and how much more important are they for these times? He thanked me, saying he too believed God used everything, that everything happens for a reason. He anticipates doing the Camino in Spain in the next few years, for many different reasons, emotional, spiritual, and physical.

He treated me to a second meal at a delicious Moroccan restaurant for lunch and we went to his house and parted ways. "I do not think we met by accident, thank you Derek." A truly beautiful and surreal 24 hours.   

Hobo 4 lyfe.

I had a decision to make last week. I got to Moncton earlier than expected and had a week to kill before my sister arrived. Do I a) bike around for a week, maybe make it to Bathurst or b) rent a car and go to Cape Breton for the week.

I chose b). So, sorry for those of you who thought I biked to Cape Breton, I did not. I will be back on the road shortly to do PEI and then head down to Halifax though! Fret not!

Cape Breton is one of the prettiest places I have been. It reminded me of Hawaii with its wide open panoramic views of the ocean and hilly countryside. It had bits of the rugged north with its sharp rock faces and forrested appearance. But disctinctly Atlantic with the lighthouses, oceanside homes painted bright colors, and people who look like members of Duck Dynasty who spent a decade or two on a sailboat.

One night in during stealth camping: SUV edition, I found a gem. I saw a side road that looked like it pitched over the side of a cliff and backed up to see if I couldn't take my car that way. The trail would have indeed taken me to my death had what looked like the foundation of an old house not been carved into the mountain. The cement slab offered me a 180 degree panoramic of the Atlantic stretching from Meat Cove to the Bay of St. Lawrence. The sky that night, removed from any semblance of civilization,  was the most dramatic display of stars I have seen. There were so many! If I had a long enough straw I could've drank the milky way! It was spectacular. Needless to say, I had a poor sleep. But just as I had fallen asleep to the sunset on one direction of my camping spot, I woke up to the sun rising from the other. Truly a spectacular find.

I was able to visit a friend of mine, Sean Morgan, twice. He is living in Sackville and on the way to Cape Breton we went camping. We found an abandoned... something (shipping building?)... and climbed around, drank some delicious beer and chatted until it grew dark on the Bay of Fundy. We visited Hopewell Rocks the next day which boasts the highest tide in the world, worth a look. Returning to Moncton last night I stopped and Sean, myself, and a friend of his jammed in the chapel with a guitar I rented, his cello, and a piano. The reverb in that chapel was spectacular, definitely a treat after not being able to play music for so long.

I left my rental car today, and let me tell you, it feels great. Driving is a lonely way to travel for someone who is... well... alone. You drive in your solitary vehicle. You go to grocery stores and get food instead of restaurants cuz you have more means to make it. You go to all these beautiful places and experience it by yourself (I kept track during my time in the Cape Breton National Park of people I saw travelling alone amidst the hundreds, total number: 1, besides myself of course). I am an introvert, so most times its enjoyable, but it is a lonely way to travel. But! Hop on a bike loaded with your life and you are now a talking piece. Within an hour of getting on my bike I had been approached and offered a place to stay tonight (french Canadians are winning in the hospitality department!). I pass by the shops more slowly, taking in the atmosphere and the people. I feel my muscles rejoicing with satisfaction of being used. Its a warm fall day and I am happy to be on a bike.

So tonight, I will dine and rest at Fernando's house. Tomorrow night I will welcome my sister at the airport. The day after tomorrow I start the final leg of my trip, around Prince Edward Island and to Halifax. Then I get to be home! To see family! To have a fridge to store beer in! To be able to do laundry at a whim! To make music and jam with friends! To not have to sponge bath in fast food restaurants! To not have to steal toothpaste from the homes of hosts by squeezing it into my little travel size tube (if I have stayed with you, I have likely done it...)!

Hobo 4 lyfe.

Quebec

Its my last night until I hit the maritime provinces. My last day of butchering French and speaking my continuous phrase, "Je ne sais pas." I should've made a t-shirt and saved some time. Fortunately most people have been able to parle Anglais avec moi. It is strange to me to meet people that don't know English in Canada! And have got a few similar reactions from Quebecois who feel aghast that I only know enough French to introduce myself and know where to take a leak.

Pulling into Quebec city I was fortunate to meet up with a cyclist who asked where I was from and what I was doing. This conversation turned into an invitation to stay the night at his house with a good dinner and warm shower. We biked into Quebec City, passing the house of Louis Garneau (the bike maker), whose helmet I was wearing. This evening was one of the more pleasant memories on my trip. He was an environmental research scientist who had taken up biking 4 years prior with a fierce passion. He was quite impressed by my powering up the 100 meter, 18% grade hill with all my gear on the way to his house (he told the story twice!).  We talked music, travel, language, cycling. His sibling in-laws came over and we shared wine and I sat back enjoying the French and English interchange. His wife spoke little English, so we defaced each others' languages and attempted to figure each other out. I left the next morning with fresh pastries his wife bought me from down the street and a warm invitation to return, such great hospitality.

Yesterday I had another lovely encounter with a man who also spoke little English. I reached a small city and found a park where I could have a snack and enjoy a view of the canal. A man came over and sat with me and we started talking. He shared with me some prayers he had written on pieces of paper. We understood little of what each other said, I could make out about half of what was written on the pieces of paper. After 10 minutes or so he left me with a prayer in broken English and a thick french accent. "Remember, what you do, work or eating or sleeping or travel, do it for love of God." His broken rendition of the verse and earnest prayer touched me quite a lot.

The St. Lawrence is now oceanic. I stopped in an amazingly beautiful little seaside town this morning called Kamouraska. You can look across to the North Shore east of Quebec and it looks very much like the gulf islands in BC. Rolling hills, seagulls, salty breeze. The Atlantic is close. For the first time today I also joined up with part of the trans-Canada trail. An endeavour to make a trail all the way across Canada fit for walks and bikers, packed gravel trails. It has been gorgeous. Fall colors, rest stops and campgrounds along various creeks, looking out over the rolling Quebec countryside. It was a treat to bike today. And tomorrow is more of the same, but mostly downhill!

It is striking me I am getting closer and closer to home. And despite all my thinking I am no closer to having life figured out. However, being OK with that is what I think I needed to figure out. Allowing none of my plans or desires to control me, living selflessly, and as the man prayed, honoring God in everything I do, are perhaps the only thing one needs to live an exciting, thankful, surrendered life.

Au revoir mon amis!

The Land Before Time

One thing I've noticed since near the beginning of my trip and continue to think about occasionally is how I am doing something that is not normal. Cities are set up for cars, not bikes. Highways I am a rare duck that cars feel uneasy being around. And don't get me started on elderly folk renting RVs for the first time... I remember pulling into Regina and it had lots of different roads merging onto the highway so I was constantly bombarded on both sides by high speed traffic. I don't know if I would have felt more out of place if I was driving a horse and buggy on the shoulder into town!
Then there is camping! Until I reached Ontario, I could count on one hand the number of tents I saw at campsites. Everyone else had their portable homes with their big trucks and a motorcycle in the back. So weird. But I guess random towns in Saskatchewan isn't where I would set up a tent either if I had the weekend off... the tenters are probably just all in the forest. Anyways, still made me stand out.
Then basically as soon as I reached Quebec I felt like Little Foot from the Land Before Time! You know at the end where he is reunited with a bunch of other longnecks??? Thats me in Quebec! There are cyclists everywhere! Like, everywhere. There was this group of islands just outside Quebec that they joined together with a series of bridges to make this beautiful 11km parkway with bike lanes. Then as soon as you get into Quebec there is La Route Verte, which is essentially paved bike lanes beside the road in a significant portion of south Quebec. Then you get into Montreal and half of the main streets have dedicated bike lanes.
Then theres the cyclists. You've got the hipster bikers on their fixies, no helmets, listening to Arcade Fire and generally ignoring most street rules except for "don't get hit". Then theres grandpa on his old ten speed, who is just as cool as the hipsters but stops for red lights. You've got the spandex rockets who pass you and don't even glance your way.
I'm not even an unusual sight here! I rarely get second glances because everyone is on a bike. Although I have had two people come up to me and start chattering in French until they realize I'm some ignorant fool from somewhere else and speak English to me.

I leave Montreal tomorrow and head towards Quebec City. I realized that I actually have to boogie if I want to make it to New Brunswick in time for when my sister arrives! I love Montreal and hope to visit again someday. Transit, old montreal, bike paths, Mont Royal, restaurants... there is too much to take in. Every block I see a cafe or restaurant I would love to eat at, but there are only 3 meals in a day.

Further on into French-land I go. I still need to have a poutine somewhere.

"Turns out I'm normal"

"I told the doctor I was overtired, anxiety-ridden, compulsively active, constantly depressed, with recurring fits of paranoia. Turns out I'm normal." Jules Feiffer

I've been having a down past few days. I wanted to share because while social media excels at letting us portray ourselves as we would love to be, I think we lose alot of humanity in only portraying the more extraorindary parts of ourselves or our days. The truth is, anxiety is as real as the wonderful lunches or sunsets I post pictures of, and depression is sometimes as much a part of my life as smiling selfies. I think we do each other a disservice in our perfect presentations because it makes us feel less than normal if we cannot live in this bubbly state of doing well.

The truth is there were moments today I didn't really feel like existing. A friend of mine once mentioned that he liked it when it was raining outside because he felt as if that was a better reflection of how he felt than the summer sun. It was like the world was a foreign experience to him until the clouds rolled in, because living in that shadow is what he knew more often than not. I don't think thats a good place to live in, but I can understand it.

I have good friends and family. I have wonderful people I can talk to. I have a loving God who shows me grace when I satisfy my anxieties in unhealthy ways. This isn't a plea for help. Just acknowledgement that I feel this way sometimes, and its normal if you do too.

So, to anyone who struggles to find hope some days save the hope that one day they can hope again, it passes.

The North Shore

The North Shore route was a trek within a trip. In 9 days I went 1243 km from Kenora to Thunder Bay, then around Lake Superior to Sault Ste. Marie. My jelly legs and I are currently enjoying a relaxing day in the Sault. I made sweet potato hash browns, had leftover pad thai, and am devouring a delicious smoothie at some local coffee shop, "Dish".

As soon as I hit Kenora, Ontario it felt like familiar terrain. I felt like I was close to home as I traded the prairie tundra for lakes, hills, trees, and signs that said, "no snowmobiling on the sidewalk." I'd hitched a ride from Winnipeg with the fellow I was staying with as he was going climbing in the area. Needing to make up a few days to get to Toronto for the long weekend, I happily traded in two windy prairie days for the new landscape.

On the way from Kenora to Thunder bay I had the pleasure of meeting a host of bikers! Up to this point I really hadn't met anyone biking across Canada. A few spandexed hardcores on their slick road bikes out for a their daily cruise, but no fellow weary-eyed bike tourists loaded down like mules. But the mule men were on this stretch! And a mule-maiden for that matter. I had the pleasure of running into a middle aged duo doing the cross-Canada in sections, an older couple taking it slow but steady on their way to halifax, and a 30ish year old brit who is taking a few years to bike from Alaska to the tip of South America. I camped with them for a night or two and enjoyed the company. My introverted self has been loving travelling alone, but it was also nice to get to know some people and realize my days on the road haven't completely eliminated my capacity for conversation.
I had my first major bike repair incident when my chain snapped the day I was going to try and make Thunder Bay. Fortunately, the Brit who was only a short distance behind me had 15 years previous bike repair experience! He did in 2 minutes what probably would have taken me a half hour. We replaced the link in my chain and I carried on the Thunder Bay without difficulty.

Seeing the Great Lakes for the first time was quite special. I took my take-out and tea down to the shores of Lake Superior and gazed out upon the expanse for the first time. I am sure I am not alone in cherishing the experience of gazing into a horizon that doesn't end before your eyesight does. I felt such peace as the sun set on the great body of water. I felt as if I aged 6 decades in a moment. I could imagine myself as an ancient man staring out on a similar expanse on a similar day and feeling the exact same as I did right then, content and complete. As if I had reached the extent of some forms of the human experience and while I may feel identical someday, I could never feel them more fully.

I found the most glorious campsites along the north shore and met up with a few other bikers who I saw on the road daily throughout my trip. A wonderful Spaniard named Simon and a young 20 year old from Kalamazoo named David. They were fast bikers. Simon had raced as a young man and has been literally all over the world bicycle touring. Peru, South America, Europe, Malasia. That is not even uncovering the surface of all of the places he's been. And David is a fit young passionate cyclist studying Political science for the purpose of bicycling. Do not worry, I do not see a direct correlation either, but they were both very great people.

3 days before I made it to Sault Ste Marie I woke up at 2am in immense pain. I swallowed and it felt like glas shards grating against my throat. If expletives are any indication of how difficult days are, this day would take the cake before my alarm went off at 7am. I popped some tylenol and went to the bathroom to see what was going on. My tonsils were red, inflamed, and painful. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. Should I hitch hike into Sault Ste Marie and rest there? Should I get some Halls and tough it out? As I contemplated my predicament I started to filter 5 liters of water because my campsite water wasn't  potable as it started to rain, further cheering me up. And as if a ray of sunshine wanted to shine straight down on me, as I finished up filtering water into my camelback, a time consuming process with my filter, I spilled all 3L of drinking water on the ground. This caused an eruption of curses that I think will make sure no other day beats August 23rd for parental advisory cautions.

I needed a time-out. As I went to the lake to spend some much needed time with God I remembered the wise words of "The 100 year old man who climbed out the window and disappeared" (a brilliant book I'd been listening to). "What has happened happened, what will be will be." I cannot control how terrible my sleep and morning have been, but I have some control over my day and how I will process it. And so, the day improved. My legs were surprisingly well rested. The tylenol kicked in. I bought some halls. And was able to make it through the next 3 days with only minor pain and interrupted sleeps.

And so here I am in Sault. Tomorrow I am hopefully catching a ride to Niagara Falls and then biking to Toronto then having a glorious weekend at a cabin. My sister is looking at flights to join me on the east coast for a week around NB, PEI, and NS. Enjoy the end of summer and the leaves as they start to turn. I am hoping to be in Montreal with maple syrup filled french toast when they are really colorful.

Grace and such

Obedience is the offspring of a deep and intimate relationship between our own hearts and the God who embraces us and who shares with us a joyous delight in and passionate concern for all of creation. When God is the one in whom we live and move and have our being, then our spirits will reverberate and our lives echo that limitless love. - Joan Puls

I don't know that I understand "grace". Christians toss that term around quite often and while thinking about it on this trip I realized I haven't really understood or lived it that much. Grace. It seems to me if you do something wrong there are ramifications for that wrongness. That ramification is often accompanied by guilt. Guilt I understand. You do something wrong, you should feel sorry for what you've done. Guilt should cause you to change. Grace on the other hand seems to me an easy solution for a guilt-free life. Its as if the wrong we have done or will do mean nothing because, why, we are saved by grace! While I don't understand it, I cannot get away from the fact that my bible is littered with the term, and that indeed, I am saved by "grace" as Ephesians 2:8-9 tell me, and that this saving isnt anything I can earn so that no one can boast.

It is about this time my mind realized that my guilt is the result of boasting. Or perhaps would be if I could somehow learn enough from my guilt to save myself. Guilt comes from this desire deep within me to be perfect which I suppose is a good desire. The only problem is I never will be, and I can never learn enough from my mistakes to save myself.

My reading of a book Insurrection told a beautiful story that I think puts this in perspective. I have since lent the book away, so I shall do my best to recall  what I can...
In this story a man lives a wicked life cheating in his business practices and exploiting his workers and such. This man turns his life around. He gives birth to a son.Though his son admires his father and his changed ways, he falls into the same wicked pattern his father had. This father does not know what to do with his son. He tries to coach him, be gracious with him, help him to see the error of his ways and change. The son cannot.
One day the father is praying and asks God what he can do to help his son change. The response he hears is to love him as he is, not how he wishes he was.
The father then changes his mindset. He decides he loves his son for who he is, despite his wickedness. The son sees the grace of his father and only then is able to change from his ways.

This story illustrates what I think I have learned and what I have found to be true: guilt cannot change me, but grace can.

I would rather be changed by love than by trying to live up to the law. I may even abuse grace, failing over and over again, but in the end I will be more fruitful than had I lived feeling what I "should" feel under guilt.

"O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I "pray Thee, that so I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me... give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long. In Jesus’ name, Amen." - The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer.

In this beautiful prayer at the end of one of Tozer's chapters I was met with an odd phrase I had to ponder. Painfully concious of my need of further grace. In my head this sounded like a mish-mash of the two concepts. Talking with my friend David Morgan about this the other day he brought up something that gave me a new perspective, that something being the importance of knowing when you are in need of grace. Perhaps it is in this knowledge that true change happens. We are the son in the story, given grace by our father so we are then free to change. We are loved no matter what we do, but because there is some mutual love going on, we are then motivated to change.

Anyways, its hard to write this post without going on a tangent about many other things, but I'll leave it here. May you truly know that you can have grace. May you be motivated by love and forgiveness above feelings of failure.

Recollection

I'm through chasing after tomorrow, before I end up somewhere too fast
In a fight with the clock time will shoo me away, before the present can pass

It's a lyric I penned a while back but have never been able to make a song out of. Usually because it always just ends up mimicking the melody to Bright Eyes' Land-locked Blues. I think behind alot of my worry, anxiety, or depression is a deep-seated feeling that I am going to miss out on something. I do not know why that is. When I look back on my life, it is not hard for me to see a guiding sovereignty that I would give responsibility to as "God". I've had many moments that I can only attribute to something guiding this worried soul. Here's just a few.

In my final year of nursing I wanted to be a mental health nurse, so that is what I requested as my #1 desire for final practicums. But, as fate would have it I received First Nations nursing as my final practicum and went off to Ft St James. Besides the great family I was able to stay with and connections I was able to make, I was able to participate for a day in a mobile diabetes program for a day. It was a good day, and I didnt think much of it. That fall, the gentleman I worked with on that day emailed me and essentially asked if I'd be interested in the job as he remembered me from that day. I went in to ask questions, have an interview, and got hired on in a job I now quite enjoy and find rewarding and growing. The next year, I found myself in the same room in the Nakazdli health center, with the same client I had observed the previous year, with my now boss also in the room, but now I was the one who was conducting the interview. Moments that make you think, "hey, Im doing what Im supposed to be doing."

In my first summer of nursing I got to look after an elderly man who was dying of cancer. He was a man who you could tell had lived a full, loving life. He was full of grace, encouragement, and had a beautiful family who you could tell had blossomed growing up under the care of him and his wife. We got talking about music as he played, I mentioned what I played, and he offered me his harmonicas! Needless to say, you cannot accept gifts as a nurse, so while excited and grateful, I denied the offer. The next January I had the opportunity to play alongside some brilliant musicians through the Coldsnap festival. I held my own alongside Royal Wood and Catherine McLellan in a singer-songwriter workshop that was a gift to be a part of. At the end of the event, a woman came up to me and said, "I remember you! You were my father's nurse. He still remembered you when we went home, and he still wanted you to have his harmonicas. He has since passed." That is how I came to be in ownership of a beautiful man's harmonicas. A kind of connection that makes you feel as if you are in the right place using your gifts in the right way somehow.

On the morning of my 25th birthday it started to rain. I stayed in my tent hoping it would die down. It did temporarily, so I quickly packed up my tent, covered all my gear in a tarp and went to wait out the storm. A storm did indeed brew up. I sat beneath a tin roof in the dugout of a ball diamond as the lightning, rain, and thunder passed overhead. I read scripture, observed the red stones and countless spitz that covered the ground, and ate trail mix in the cute town called Lumsden. I had been delayed from making it to Regina because of harsh wind the previous day. But as I sat and enjoyed the sky full of melancholy I thought, "I think I was supposed to be here this morning."

A quote I read a few days before my birthday read thus:

To recollect yourself is to recover all your scattered energies- those of the mind, the heart and the body. It is to reassemble all the pieces of yourself flung in the four corners of your past or the mists of your future, pieces clinging to the fringes of your desires.   Michel Quoist

I feel as if the present is always what you need. If my history of countless moments of coincidence and blessing is any indication I need not be so eager to be anywhere but here. I feel alot of my own scattered energies returning to me this trip.

The Michel Quoist quote is followed by this note: "Most of us have neither time nor place for recollection in this busy life of ours- and thus the exhaustion. Recollection becomes a matter of priority only when we have experiences one too many times the tastelessness of a passionless life."

Happy recollections everyone, may you be able to enjoy today and, even if it is unpleasant, trust it is part of a bigger mosaic.

Insect world

I love pulling into new towns. Once I get within city limits of any sort of town I turn off my iPod and just observe. The city parks, the sun's reflection on windows, the fashion of the inhabitants, different mom and pop stores, style of homes, its all just so interesting. Every town is someplace different, its someones home.
I can never quite fathom that as I drive by homes lit up at night. Each dwelling has a different family, different life experience, jobs, desires, passions, favorite foods, achievements. There's nothing like travelling to serve up a good dollop of healthy insignificance.

I lay down stretching on a patch of grass with some rare shade (the prairies are pretty flat and mostly treeless, who knew) and got looking at the bugs. I always find it interesting that if you get your head close to the ground its like another world opens up to you, the insect world. Here you see things that you wouldn't ever really see or care about going about your day to day business. But this area matters to these ants, beetles, mosquitoes, and worms. They mill about getting sustenance for their day and building their homes until some unsuspecting bloke like myself smothers them when stretching his quadriceps out. Dang does that quadricep stretch feel good.
Its a bit how I feel on this trip of mine. I bike and bike and bike and bike and then reach some town where I bend down and take a look at all these different people milling about living life and getting sustenance and building their homes. They feel like, in the words of Death Cab, "all different names for the same place".
Perhaps that same place is simply, "not home".

I don't miss home, I get to travel! And I love getting to poke around different people's homes and find the great cafes, parks, and local beer. But it does give you a sense of healthy insignificance. I do not matter to any of these people. My life could end and they would not care one bit. They wouldn't even know. Unless I chose to end it dangling off their front porch or stuffing myself in their freezer or something. "Honey Ill get you some Eggos from the fr.... OH MY GOODNESS!"
Morbid thoughts over.
And that's in a country with a pretty small chunk of population all things considered. 33 million. That's like a drop in the ocean of humanity. A very beautiful tasty drop, but still a drop. It's enough to make someone feel quite small. And that is a wonderful thing.

You meet people now and then who have never left their immediate surroundings. I lived in a neghbourhood where some of the kids had never been outside of the 8 blocks radius surrounding their homes. And you can sort of tell sometimes. A nursing friend of mine thought it should be mandatory for people to take a year and travel before going into nursing school to get some healthy perspective on life. The world does not revolve around you. People think differently from you and that's OK. The way you do things is not "normal", just societal.
I think travelling merely forces you to do that (unless your idea of travelling is resort hopping). But we can all get our head out of the clouds any day, anywhere and be in relationship with the people that are around us. Realize that the world does not revolve around you. People think different from you and that's OK, they may even be right! And the way you do things is not "normal", just societal.

A friend (thanks Kyla) gave me a book called Insurrection by Peter Rollins just before I left on my trip, today I was reading an excellent observance of what love is and does in said book which sort of relates and I sort of just want to quote.

"This is what love does. It does not make itself visible but, like light, makes others visible to us. In a very precise sense, then, love's presence cannot be described as existing, but rather is that which calls others into existence... love does not stand forth and vie for our attention but rather brings others forth. When we love, our beloved is brought out of the vast, undulating sea of others. Just as the Torah speaks of God calling forth beings from the formless ferment of being, so love calls our beloved our from the endless ocean of undifferentiated objects." 

I guess this sticking our head down and looking at what's there, be it bugs, towns, or people we are in contact with, is a sort of love. It is an acknowledgment of their existence. What we can otherwise ignore, we choose to bring out from that vast sea of others. I have time to acknowledge this country. Maybe you only have time to acknowledge your neighbours cat. We are incredibly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But we are also grandly significant to the scheme of other things.

Get your heads down in the grass. But if you are in Saskatchewan I will warn you, there are alot of bugs.  

Birth and Death

Last night was wonderful.

After 160km the day before, we were able to make it to Edmonton pedalling a measly 98km :) Dad and I stayed at the Coast hotel downtown. I don't know that I have ever fallen asleep so quickly in my life.
He took me out to "The Burg" just around the corner for an amazing pre-birthday birthday meal. It was spectacular. I had a bison burger with maple syrup and saskatoon berry ketchup. Saskatoon-freaking-berry ketchup! With yam fries, a good pint of Guiness, and, because no matter how much I consume I will not gain an ounce on this trip, finished off with cheesecake. Highly recommended.

Many people we met that found out we were a father-son duo gave us comments like, "that's so great!" or "that's really valuable". And it is both those things. My dad and I have just naturally sort of started an annual adventure trip. It made my first week alot easier to see someone in more physical pain than myself :), to draft behind in the wind, to talk with at night, and to pray with in the mornings. Plus it will now make my two man tent (which is a generous assessment) seem like a penthouse suite at the Ritz. So, thanks dad, I love you and look forward to our next adventure.

We did some reading of scripture this morning and sort of both started crying. Or, sweating from the eyes as men do. I don't know where they came from exactly, but its the same feeling I've had multiple times in my life.

The same sort of tears when I left my mom a week ago.
When my sister was leaving for Australia engaged to a man I didn't know.
At the wedding of a good friend and mentor before he left the country.

I think they're the tears of change. Moments when you realize things aren't, or aren't going to be, the same after this event. Every new birth comes with some sort of death. You can't move somewhere, start a relationship, accept a new belief, or go on a long trip without something being lost in the process. It's OK to mourn death, but its not OK if you never believe what is born will grow up strong. It's alot easier for me to look back on life than to imagine a future one.

As I prepared for this trip, and now that I am 800km into it, one reality that struck me is this: I can do whatever the heck I want. Change careers, go on long trips, live as a hermit, climb everest, eat my socks... not that I want to most of those things... but I shouldnt let my chronic overcommitment to things, or perhaps just a fear of death of those things I find comforting, restrain me.

I'll close with a song I have written but haven't had a chance to play outside my bedroom yet. It deals with a bit of that brith-death goodness.

Be hopeful friends, mourn death but don't forget to celebrate birth. What is being born in your life?

I didnt things would change even with that ring on her finger
And his presence at our family barbeques
I didn't think twice that it might not carry on like this, best of friends and summer kids
Leaving lesser things for greater conversation
Then it hit one day at church with your booked flights and packed bags and holding hands and starry gaze
And oh my God, where are you going
Where are you going

It's dangerous putting people up on the pedastel cuz don't you know even the giants fall
If you push real hard
I didn't hear a crash cuz I guess you just got moved over a bit out of the country and joined at the hip
To the best that can be found
I didn't realize til I was at the back of the wedding hall, breaking down in the bathroom stall
Crying cuz you were going
You were going

And I'm not saying things ended up wrong or that I wish this pain not on me
Just saying with every birth there's some death and we all end up buried some days
You don't know the inside of the coffin until the nails are hammered home
Our celestial lives answer to burning flesh and breaking bone

I can't live without this dying
I can't live without this death
There are many last breaths in this life won't you suck em all in
There are many last breaths in this life won't you suck em all in

Forest pirate

As I left Prince George, I felt a deep pain in my chest.

No really, it hurts alot, my third rib down on my left side. I think I gave it a good bruise (hopefully not a crack :() on the Friday before I left when I played some intense glow in the dark ultimate frisbee until 1am. During said game, I managed to run into my good friend David Morgan. Apparently getting sacked wasn't the most painful part. My rib! Every time I sneeze it feels like my rib is being ripped off of my sternum. It is getting a bit better though. And I have hopes that by the end of this week I will be able to have allergies like a normal person.

Highlights of the trip so far:
Some guy driving by slowed down to our speed and gave my dad and I a handful of fresh cherries. Delicious.
When we arrived tired at Mt. Robson last night the cafe had just closed, but we were let in by a kind lady who nagged us for a bit then let us order a big ol' bowl of stew.
A squirrel jumped on my head! No really! We had a friendly squirrel hanging out with us during lunch, then he just looked at me and pounced! He hung out on my shoulder for a bit. I felt like a pirate of the forest.

It really has been gorgeous. The Robson Valley was excellent to bike through and we are currently in Jasper. The rain today, though getting us and some gear wet, made for some beautiful mist on the mountainsides as we journeyed into the rockies. For now it seems like all I've had time to do is bike, eat, and sleep. I am hoping as we continue to adventure I'll have energy to read all those ebooks I brought along.

I have had lots of time to think during my biking, and I'm sure will post some more later, but I need to sleep and get at er again tomorrow.

1 province down. Venture further into Alberta tomorrow.

I'm really going.

Tomorrow I am starting my journey across Canada on bicycle.

Click here for my approximate route.

The first question people ask me is, "are you doing it for a cause?"
Followed closely by, "are you going with anyone?"

My grandmother patients sharing a room the other day were aghast that my response to both questions was, "nope!" (Mostly just to the second one, "won't your mother be worried!")

It's a trip I've been planning on going on for years, and decided this was the year to do it in January. I am going for a number of reasons.

1) The beauty of Canada. I have never been east of Alberta (well, according to my memory, which is crippled to say the least) and wish to see the rest of this great land of ours. It is astonishing to me that I have traveled to Australia, China, Singapore, and Mexico, but have never seen a prairie sky or Atlantic Ocean lighthouse. Maybe not astonishing... just needing to be remedied. I look forward to taking it in province by province (sorry territories) at a slow pace, enjoying the little towns I pass through and spending nights outside.

2) The "get away from it all" factor. Driving back from West Lake with a friend a few weeks ago I commented to him that what I think I will most enjoy about the trip is the fact I don't have to go to work the next day, or have a music practice, or make that blood donors appointment (though I will still have to keep ignoring their persistent calls). It is a vacation in this sense I suppose, getting away from all the little responsibilities that, though enjoyable, prevent you from real rest. 

I was biking up university hill listening to some Bright Eyes the other evening and felt amazing. The moon was out, the sky was colorful, I stared harmoniously at a deer grazing by the side of the road. Bliss.

3) Personal life reflection. One thing that surprised me graduating from university was the sudden lack of purpose. You go from having your life planned out for you, knowing that you will be attending school, a friend community burgeoning around you, summer jobs in place and transient, to no direction. Maybe not no direction... but certainly no one steering you in the direction you should go. Which is exciting! And terrifying... and what I fought for a few months after graduation. What do I want my next 5 years to look like? Not to etch it in stone, but to gather an idea of what I value most and how I want to pursue those things.
Now, having been out for a year, worked two jobs I really enjoy, and finished an album, I think it is a good time to get to work through what I really value. Do I want to keep living this way? What do I do with this money stuff? Am I fully alive doing what I am doing or do I need to change some things?

4) Its a challenge. Part of me really just wants to be challenged! Physically, emotionally, spiritually. I have only ever done 4 nights of overnight bike camping in my life (...few weeks ago in Banff - Jasper). I actually have made a point of not telling people in bike shops that I am going across Canada... because I feel like they might scoff at my lack of preparedness. I really don't know what lays ahead of me, but I am excited to do something I have never done before and get stretched.

Its been a good last few weeks. Tying up loose ends, finishing up work, having some good conversations. I feel that what I am scared of is losing some comfort and routine. Which is a good thing I think. May my rest be in the hands of the unchanging. 

Its coming close, and Im a bit terrified, but I know in two months I wont regret it. 

The Forest Won't Hold it Against Us

Today I woke up a little glum. I went to starbucks after dropping my bike off to get fixed and went to starbucks. I distractedly read some of my bible before heading outside on the walk hoping to, as the Psalmist I was mildly attentive to encouraged me, "pour out your heart to (God)".

I wonder if my feelings of gloom aren't somehow rooted in my ideal of achievements and success.

Elementary school I had about the best possible life. I was popular, I won the golden shoe award (a highly prestigious athletic award :)), I would play basketball tournaments and win MVP, I won the principal's award (essentially elementary school valedictorian).
In high school I had a few set backs, but life was still pretty awesome. I became the leader of the music team, learning to play music and sing, I was valedictorian, I had a great friend group, I wasn't quite as good at sports (only won the silver shoe... just kidding) but excelled nonetheless.

I got a great card from a friend once that read, "Why don't you stop overachieving and settle into mediocrity like the rest of us?" Besides being hilarious, I think perhaps it has a deep lesson I need to learn! Maybe I am merely having a hard time settling into normality after a childhood of excellence. Having a regular career. Stumbling through living situations and relationships. OK its still abnormal to play concerts and have people listen...

I felt like as I poured out my heart to God and said, "Why isnt this working? Why do I feel unsuccessful? Why do I feel so weak?" He is saying back, "Good! You can't build a foundation on accomplishment you know. In your weakness, that is where I am strong." The picture that came to my mind was this tall, thin pillar with "accomplishment" etched on the side. Sure, it's tall, but it is quite easy to push it over.

I hope that this bicycle ride across Canada cures me. I hope it puts me in right perspective for more than a week or two. I know other times in nature I've thought, "Wow... what I do in life doesn't matter."
Not in a depressive way. But in a, if I wasn't a musician, if I never found a woman, if I lost my career, the forest wouldn't hold it against me.
The moonlight isn't prejudiced against normality.
The rain falls on both the wicked and the righteous.
Neither creation or creator shows favoritism to capacity, only that I try to live to the fullest I can.

The Psalmist writes, "the lowborn are but a breath, the highborn are a lie. If weighed on a scale, they are nothing; together they are only a breath."

It's hard to live as a lie. I'd rather live as a breath, even if I only get just one.

Hitting the Ground

Listen to Hitting the Ground

In life we do all sorts of things to try and remember. Tattoos, holidays, birthdays, "to do" lists, anniversaries, pictures on the wall, routines, journals, blogs, art, music, history classes. Really, we would be pretty useless humans if we didn't remember and appreciate our pasts. Both on an individual and societal level, we remember things for a reason.

In the beginning of scripture there's a group of people. They had many ways of remembering the things God had done for them. One of which was making stone altars. These altars were monuments in physical places where something great had been done for them, or shown to them. These stones were tangible, would be there for a long time, and the writing carved into them would be hard to change. Then when they were travelling past this place, they could teach their children on what God had done for them in this place, how they had experienced the divine. Pretty cool in my opinion.

The stones in this song are a reference to those monuments in my own life. The times I have experienced the divine. The times I have received direction and purpose. The times I have experienced the greatest instances of life and love.

The song is a sad one, in that I never hear these stones hitting the ground. Its a lament for the moments in life I act sinful or cruel despite the many instances in life I have been shown and experienced goodness. Despite knowing how to love I don't always choose it. It seems the more I grow and exerience, the more stones I throw deep into my soul, I never really learn.

It's important in life to regret things you've done, but it's equally as important to not stay there. Guilt can cripple. The message of forgiveness is life to me. That I don't have to be defined by what I've done. The second verse is a pretty blatant turning to God for refuge. Despite my failings, he is still the bed beaneath my body where I find rest. His words are life. His invitation to imagine a better world is still open. My actions cannot stop God for drawing me in. He wrote his forgivenes on the flesh of his son.

Though these mountains should crumble and throw themselves to the heart of the deep blue sea
I know where my feet stand, and I won't lose my ground
The wind always seems to be blowing in the wrong direction
Just a glimpse of you is all I need

We tell people to say what we should've said
We tell people to do what we wished we'd done
We throw piles of rocks into the deepest part of our souls
But I still can't hear those rocks hitting the ground

You are the bed beaneath my body where I find rest
You hold the words of life where else can I turn
We get our hands dirty painting the world as it should be
You, you draw me in

We tell people to say what we should've said
We tell people to do what we wished we'd done
We throw piles of rocks into the deepest part of our souls
But I still can't hear those rocks hitting the ground

Oh but I still, can't hear those rocks hitting the ground
Hitting the ground

Today

I was quite moved this weekend on the importance of "today".

It was a pleasure to hear my old youth pastor talk. He is now pastoring in Prince Rupert. I still see the same conviction and excellent words I remember being passed onto me in my early teens. The climax of the sermon scripture was the passage in Joshua chapter 24.
"Choose today whom you will serve! Whether the gods which your fathers worshiped that were beyond the river, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve Jehovah."

Today. Today is an important day because it is right now. It is not focussing on what you have done, or on what you had plans to do. Today is the day that is directly and quickly impacted by the choices you make. You can guess at tomorrows, and fret or relish in the past, but those are all interpreted under the lens of today. You can be who you weren't yesterday. In fact yesterday shouldn't have a strong hold on who you can be today, unless it is a foundation you wish to be builiding upon.

In the book, The Sacredness of Questioning Everything, there was a quote I read as I drove home. A woman desribed her life as a "history of horrors". Her friend wrote back to her, "you are not a history of horrors. The meaning of redemption is that you do not have to be your history. Nothing is plainer to me than that you are not your history."

You do not have to be your history. The chains we wear, which are often good things, dont have to bind us. Our house, wealth, savings account, dogs, comfort, vices, self-hate don't have to be in our today decisions.
Nothing is ever that simple... or is it? I often find myself in self-reflection being drawn to Jesus' question to a man, "do you want to be healed?"
Do I want to throw off my sickness? My comfortable, easy to manage, comfortable plagues? My lifestyles of living that I know are wrong, but fit so well.

Anyways, this weekend I was encouraged about today. While my "history of horrors" may be small, and frankly not very scary, in comparison to others, I live in fear often enough to need that truth, "you are not a history of horrors. You are redeemed and you do not have to be your history."

Choose today whom you will serve. What we do is never not worship. What are you ascribing worth to?

Seeing Eye to Eye

 Listen to Seeing Eye to Eye 

Just a shallow song about missing out on a girl. Music is often a way of processing my emotions, as much as I hate the fact I have to feel some of them. I suppose the second verse is me trying to redeem the instinctual displeasure of a man swooping down on this girl.

Would real love correct me. Direct my ways, correct my gaze. Would I be a better student as I learn what it takes to put in the time and effort to grow real fruit.

Perhaps this is what all petitions and prayers are. A showcase of what is wrong and a picture painted of something more beautiful. It is one thing to cry out. It is a blessing if you can begin the process of imagining a better future.

I think if I have learned anything over the years of liking girls, it is that I generally fall pretty hard. I have always seen this is a curse, but I suppose someday in the right moment it will be the greatest gift I can give.

I should note, the girl with no eyes is happily married to an excellent man.
 

We Might See Eye to Eye

We might see eye to eye if you had any eyes at all
Id coerce you to love me if I had a less feeble mind
But I'm afraid I can't see past the end of my arm
So when I see him with her I just assume he better understands your eyes

Love is patient love is kind it is not jealous or proud
Selfless love, unfailing love I am a dissapointing student
Direct my ways correct my gaze so I dont miss it
Fruit takes its time, love takes its sweet sweet time

Where is God?

I have a friend who is going through some rough stuff. Things on a life-altering scale that I could not imagine living through. We went out for dinner and chatted for a while and this question came up in the form of a statement, "I just dont see God in this at all."

Its the same question that has come to my mind when I am praying for this individual, "God, where are you?" Why is there not healing when we are asking for it?

As we were talking over dinner something kind of hit me. I thought of the people Jesus is on the side of: the poor, the oppressed, the sick, the mistreated. All throughout the bible scripture proclaims this. You can check out the "justice" bible which highlights the over 2000 verses with the topic of justice ( http://www.povertyandjusticebible.org). My friend definitely falls into this category.

Then I thought, "how many of those people that we read about in the Bible asked that same question, Where is God?"

Israelites in Egypt.
Abraham ready to sacrifice his son on an altar.
The silent centuries before Christ.
The man blind from birth.
The disciples after their teacher is crucified.
Jesus forsaken on the cross.

How many people who God is passionately fighting for feel abandoned by that very God? How much faith is needed to see beyond our present circumstances to a reality where God gets what he wants?

When God put everything under his Son’s control, nothing was left out.
However, at the present time we still don’t see everything under his Son’s control. (Heb 2:8)

I found this verse a few months ago as I was struggling with similar questions, and it was like a breath of fresh air. Thank God this verse is in the bible. Thank you that I don't have to make up excuses about it being all "in God's perfect plan" that terrible injustices happen to people. That sicknesses break families apart. At this time, we still don't see everything under Jesus' control.
And in the meantime I thank God he can use hard things to make good things. He can allow the experiences we go through to be a way that we can connect to and help others through those circumstances. He can give us hope that this is not the way it should be, and this is not the way it will be. He can give us the tools to be people who carry out his justice in this world.

They were brought into Israel.
God provided a different sacrifice.
The Messiah came.
Jesus restored his sight.
Christ conquered death.
The sacrifice was for us.

If you don't know where God is in your situation, it is likely he is passionately fighting for you. Have faith that this time passes.

Took it Slowly

Listen to Took it Slowly

This is an older song, I remember finishing it up a few years ago and thinking, "you done good Derek, you done good". The lyrics, that ending, that finger picking! Anyways...

I also refer to this song occasionaly as my "philosophy of dating" song. You listen perceptively to the second verse you may be able to perceive in my prose my two point conclusion on relationships with dames.

1. Dont assume you will marry her, treat her as if she belongs to another.
2. Leave her better than when you found her.

Now, I have not put this theory through much rigorous research, which is probably better than the alternative, but I still like the sound of that. Perhaps it is merely a reminder for myself. Dont fall too hard and too fast for the girl and be selfless in relationships. The people I see that are married or are in relationships make me both excited and terrified for a similar future. I feel, 4 years after writing this song, somewhat less qualified and sure of myself in giving out relationship advice.

I always feel a bit shallow writing songs that are about girls. "Of all the things on earth, you had to write another song about relationships!" I hope I don't ever do it as much as I do on this record, but those things are emotional wonders and catastrophes waiting to happen!

This song gets a short description mostly because it is something I dont really know what I am talking about. I believe in the goodness of relationships, but haven't had very much experience myself. I haven't found that "beauty I adore". And I don't mean that in a self-deprecating way or sorrowful way. I would like to think it more of hopeful expectation. Maybe someday I will write an even better song with my mountains of knowledge on the subject. Though it may be uncomfortable sometimes in the cold, I know its better to bundle up and keep living life than to stay inside.

Took it Slowly

Maybe its the way we always fall in line before we fall over
Maybe if I ran after you I'd put more distance between what is behind me
Maybe it's discipline, maybe I've been learning how to love
Maybe when the snow is flying I shouldn't hide inside but bundle up

I took it slowly for the first time and it feels like everything is new
You fascinate your tears they take over my eyes, til all I see is you
I took it slowly for the first time honest, my hearing's getting more acute
To the final note in the sort of song you wish would never end

Don't know if I'll be the last so I'll honor you like you belong to another
But I promise you this my friend I will leave you better than when I found you
I know til I've been around that I'm just spewing words
But I really think we could make it I don't think we would settle for what's been done

I took it slowly for the first time and it feels like everything is new
You fascinate your tears they take over my eyes, til all I see is you
I took it slowly for the first time honest, my hearing's getting more acute
To the final note in the sort of song you wish would never end

It only hurts cuz I know who you are
There is a life behind your eyes
Not many wars that are more worth fighting
No other beauty I adore

Feel OK

Listen to Feel OK

Last summer a friend of mine went through his first psychotic break and had to spend some time on the 3rd floor of the hospital. He had to go on disability, unable to return to work. He has a family and lived a life not unlike you or me.

This song is essentially the poetic form of a conversation I had with him not too long after his break. It was heartbreaking to listen to him talk about the added confusion in every facet of life: providing for his family, raising kids, being a loving husband, how to make marriage work, trusting God. How do you begin to embrace an "ill" mind?

It is hard to see bright eyes turned hollow turned lifeless. How much harder to experience? Not forever, but at least for a moment. I appreciate that I am beginning to see life in those eyes again now. Life that will never quite have the same trajectory, but present nonetheless. It is my prayer that "what man intends for evil, God can use for good. When this world tries to harm us there is more to be understood".

Mental health is fascinating and difficult for me, and for many of you, because we are all affected personally by it. I dont know very many people who have remained untouched by the various faces of mental health. Depression that numbs, anxiety that screams, delusions that scare us. I think its hard too because there is no surgery, or miracle drug, no cookie cutter solution to our problems. In a society that waves a flag of perfection, power, flawlessness, beauty and achievment, mental illness forces us to forget about striving for alot of what we thought we should aim for in life. Maybe not all of that is a bad thing. Maybe if the pressure for perfection is off we can embrace what humanity is really about.

We'll all spend our lives figuring that out, but some days the best we can hope for is just to feel OK.

I know its not your fault, but these bills still got to be paid
I know its not your fault, but these kids still got to be raised
I know its not your fault, some days it takes more than just these meds you've got to feel OK
I know its not your fault, I know, honey I know

Take this away, for just another day give me just one more day
Take this away, for just another day give me just one more day my dear
I love you, I hope we do OK I hope you feel OK
My dear, I love you

I know despite what you say, I know you don't mean those things anyway
I know despite what you say you don't think that we should give our kids away
I know its not my fault, some days I can't try hard enough just to feel OK
I know its not my fault, I know, honey I know

Take this away, for just another day give me just one more day
Take this away, for just another day give me just one more day my dear
I love you, I hope we do OK I hope you feel OK
My dear, I love you

What man intends for evil
God can use for good
When this world tries to harm us
There is more to be understood

My dear I love you, I hope we do OK, I hope you feel OK
My dear, I love you

More Time Alone

Listen to "More Time Alone"

More Time Alone was written in two chunks.
Verse 1 was written on a bus ride down from UNBC. It was the end of a long day. I loved taking the bus. A kind of forced break in my day. I had no excuses to speed up my car, nothing especially pressing to do, just time to think and look and rest. As I looked to the mountains in the spring landscape, the scene clashed with  emotions of exhaustion, anxiety, and busyness I felt. It was gentle, it was sweet, it was a kind of redemption. I find the good emotions can overpower what negative ones you are feeling, but it does require you to let go of whatevers clenched in your fists.

The second verse was written a month or two later.
I was working at Ness Lake Bible Camp in a leadership position for the summer and was on a weekend off. During the weekend, I listened to the siren song of an old vice. I felt remorse. I felt betrayal of my position at camp. Anyone who has hid secret sins for long enough knows the feeling.
I took off out of the house on my longboard, cursing myself. My pushing found me at the end of 1st avenue on the small hill before the east-going bridge. I sat down on the concrete barrier catching my breath. In that moment, I saw the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen. The sky was alive with jubilant colors cast onto the clouds and the grass. I felt in that moment apart from myself and wrapped up in the changing pastels above.
In that moment I felt as if I learned two things. 
1. My own wickedness and capacity to sin, 2. The overwhelming grace of God.
The beauty overtook any of my shame. It was as if God was calling me not to stare at the dark acts I will fall into for the rest of my life, but to be a part of colors that fill a different sort of picture.
"So I say, live by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature. For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature. They are in conflict with one another so that you do not do what you want... let us keep in step with the Spirit." (Eph 5:16-17, 25)

It is very freeing to actually believe in the grace of God. That what I have done can actually be forgiven and redeemed. I do not merely have to push it out of my mind, but can own up to it and plead mercy as I too participate in lending that mercy to those who do wrong to me. This may be as close to a "worship" song as I ever write.

More Time Alone

A gentle touch on a razor's night
The sweetest aroma after putrid sights
The wind in the forest reaching past your skin
Undeserving death overcoming sin

I just need more time alone with you

The sky explodes to disarm my shame
Seas of color that fit a different frame
I long to paint this soul inside
With shades that pace to a different stride

I just need more time alone with you

Before I Lay These Dreams Aside

To listen to the song:            

    https://derekjoyce.bandcamp.com/track/before-i-lay-these-dreams-aside-2

               This is a song of a necessary defeat. This is my confession of mortality. I think it wasn’t until I was 22 that I realized I couldn’t do everything for everyone all the time. Focus is a limited resource. You can only have so many dreams. People are valuable, but you cannot know everyone deeply and intimately. You can easily swing too far the other way, into apathy and despair, and so I hope I have not done such. But realizing your limits is probably one of the most valuable things to learn.

                This was written in my third year of nursing. When school, finances, some girl, living situation, and depression seemed to comingle into a perfect storm. I had to back out of a few commitments, stop saying yes to every event and activity, gain some perspective on friendship and relationship, and lay all my anxieties at Jesus’ feet. Even in his most hopeful state, tomorrow robs you from experiencing life in the here and now.

                All of these lessons I am still learning, but I know that God has been very faithful to me. It is amazing to look back on the stressors I had then and the end result of all of them. I am graduated, I am ridiculously well paid for a job I enjoy, there will always be some girl, I am excited about where I will be living over the next year and this winter I have suffered less depression than any I can remember.           “So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’  … your heavenly Father already knows all your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need. “So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” (Matthew 6:31-34)

Stuck in Ft George after dark, watching planes in the sky leaving trails in my mind

Wish I could close my eyes and be up there, way up in the air, could get a new perspective

I could get out of this head, I need to find a place to rest I need to crawl back into bed

I could make sense of this mess, maybe find two ends that meet, get some air beneath my feet

Before I lay these dreams aside, I’ll leave a trail so I can find them again some day

Somebody told me not to worry about tomorrow that tomorrow can take care of himself

Often I worry that tomorrow doesn’t know what he is doing, so I worry about him

I need more faith in your plan, keep in step with your spirit find your presence and draw near it

In God I trust I will not be afraid, in God whose word I praise

Before I lay these dreams aside, I’ll leave a trail so I can find them again some day

I’m sorry for the moments when I praise God and then curse his image bearers

I’m sorry when I think my hands are just as big as yours

I’m truly sorry that I can’t be everything to everybody all of the time

Before I lay these dreams aside, I’ll leave a trail so I can find them again some day

Love Won't You Stay

http://derekjoyce.bandcamp.com/track/love-wont-you-stay

There are times of your life where you regret what you've done. You know that you have wronged someone because of what you have done or said. The words left your mouth, the punch connected with their jaw, your greedy money stayed in your pocket. Your conscience is plagued by this irrepressible feeling of doing wrong. That isn't what this song is about.

There are other times in your life when you regret what you've done. You've prayed about the situation for months. You have stepped out of your comfort zone confronting and engaging in conversation people who you believe are making a mistake. Your heart breaks for the people involved to the point of tears and staying up at night. You have tried to see every perspective, every angle, every persons heart. And yet in the end, the result is the same. People are hurt. People are misunderstood.

This was a song about confusion. Something happened that I cannot reverse or take back, and even if I could, I am not sure what I would reverse or take back. Did the messiness need to happen? Was there a way I could have approached the situation differently? Its like you know its wrong, but your conscience can't quite pinpoint what would have been right. I have reached beyond the edge of my morality it seems.

I realize I am being somewhat ambiguous, but this song is nothing more than a deep longing. It is not about a person but for the very essence of "love". It is my hope that regardless of what was wrong and right, love, won't you stay. I suppose again it is a song about forgiveness. For what I was not able to do, for the community I was not able to be a part of, the friendships I was not able to mend, the fear I live under, the morality I do not even understand: I forgive myself. I will never have it all together, but I was always keep pursuing it, and I will never stop giving and receiving grace.

Love Won't You Stay

I know this fight is less against this flesh and more a sign
That there's evil reaching in
My hands are tied but I can still kneel and pray
Cuts through the soul to the heart of things

Love, won't you stay

You have always been the home that we come back to
You're the reason we started
So mother why, the fear in your heart the concern in your eyes
Is my spine just weaker
The battle lines have been drawn in all the wrong places
Feels like I'm fighting for both sides

Love, won't you stay

I'll Choke

https://derekjoyce.bandcamp.com/track/ill-choke-2

This is a song of frustration with my elated expectations of what life owes me. There are many times in my life where for months I will be depressed, saddened by my lack of this or that which I feel is due me. I see people around me who have what I desire, and they look so happy. I think bitterly to myself, “how can they do what I cant, and get what I want?” And then something hits me. A realization that I am blessed. That I live a ridiculously good life. And even if I didn’t, I am still called to live a life of joy. Content in whatever circumstance; grateful for the peace that passes understanding God provides and the daily bread that is offered.

I live in these lies that choke me. Lies that squeeze whatever life I have to keep and the life I have to give to others. In the holiest of vomits I need to expel my discontent. And in the holiest hour of rest I need to reflect and pray.

Much of this album is my experience in learning to appreciate the darkness. The holes in my mind. The craters of the moon. Letting the darkness shape you and take you places you could not visit in the daylight. There are areas of my soul I am not willing to travel by day, where I can see the ruin. Its only in the darkness that I can be led by One wiser than I to confront what I would not allow myself to confront by day. So I treasure the nights, the sunrise has yet to fail me. 

Summer love never comes around

Winter love is hard to be found

The fall it changes every single day

Spring wakes me from unrestful sleep

Rubbing my eyes and cleaning my teeth as my appetite grows larger than my charm

If I have to swallow one more lie I’ll choke

If I have to buy any more time I’ll be broke

The sundance kid knows how to walk them coals

Never smell flesh or burning soles

Doing what I cant and getting what I want

Me I’ll two-step with the moon at night

The craters filling the holes in my mind

It keeps my focus off the darkness in the night

If I have to swallow one more lie I’ll choke

If I have to buy any more time I’ll be broke

Almost

https://derekjoyce.bandcamp.com/track/almost

I still remember getting the phone call. Shannon had left for Australia for her 3^rd year nursing practicum on exchange. A man had entered her life not long earlier. That man had proposed to her and she said yes. It was great to see her happy. She called, mid afternoon in the summer. We cried on the phone as she told me her fiancé had slept with a prostitute. From the first phone call with her, I remember my sister asking the question: “what does forgiveness look like?” 

Who deserves forgiveness? Does this man? How deep does hurt have to run before you can justifiably be bitter? And if you can be justifiably bitter, why would you be? Forgiveness is healing. For this man, for my precious sister. Where would she be if she had never asked that question? What has unforgiveness cost you?

And for myself, who am I to cast blame? I think the more I live the more I learn what I am capable of, and it frightens me. My thoughts aren’t far from this man’s sin. If forgiveness cannot be spared for this man, then where can I find mine? If my God does not ask the same question my sister asks, then I am ruined.

The almost wedding. I am grateful that he confessed, that she is not married to this man. I am grateful that she is currently in a relationship with a man who encourages and spurs her on to be the best she can be. As the years progress, it is also a story of the goodness of God despite times we would rather not experience. As with most valleys we go through in life, as my sister has said, “I would not change that experience.”

For Shannon Joyce, a woman of strong wisdom and character. A woman close to God’s heart of love and forgiveness. My sister.

It was an almost wedding

Not quite but almost, not quite but almost

He could have lied his way through, lied his way through, lied his way through

Til she’d said I do

But how close was almost

When he took to the streets

How close was almost

When he takes back the ring

You’re not who I thought you were not even almost, not even almost

Its hard forgiving the almost, when he had you so close

He drew you so close

But blood had to be shed for the almost

Or I’d have the furthest to fall, I’d be a pillar of salt

You’re not who I thought you were not even almost, not even almost

Boxes

Have you seen 12 years a slave?

It is a heartbreaking story of a man who is stolen into slavery because of the color of his skin. The southern states do not see him as the free man he is in the north. His violin playing ability leads him on a performance tour ending in captivity. As if I needed more reasons to never be a touring musician.

I recommend the film, if you're in the mood to be appalled. But I just wanted to share one message I have been thinking about since seeing it.

The most captivating character I find in the movie, or perhaps simply the one I find myself relating to the most, is the slave-owner Ford. Ford is portrayed by Benedict Cumberpatch as a good slave owner.

When he first buys Solomon and others, he intentionally tries to purchase the children of a woman he buys. His attempt is foiled, but you can see some hint of conscience working within the man.
Again, some dim light of the soul is visible when he gives Solomon, a man who he has noticed has considerable knowledge and skills, a violin. I believe the line he says is, "may it bring us both much joy over the years."

But the most poignant scene is when Solomon gets in trouble. After calling a young racist foreman out on his foolish instructions, he is then confronted by this young, prideful foreman as he lays into him with his fiercest attack. The fiercest attack being tucking his tail between his ass as Solomon steals the whip and takes it to him. For this defiance, Solomon is strung up by his neck so only his toes, slipping in the mud, maintain a patent airway.
After hours. After many other slaves witness and can do nothing. After Ford's wife observes from the balcony. Up rides Ford who has been away from the house. Sword in hand, he swiftly cuts the rope choking Solomon in two, freeing the man. He clearly recognizes the injustice put on Solomon by this foreman. He is a savior working within the locked doors of hell.

Ford is working within a corrupt system. He is a man who is working within a box. The box of slavery. The standards of his righteousness can only be as high as that off the box he resides in. Perhaps he has been socialized to believe that this is the way life is. The culture around him may praise him as a good man, but he can only be as good as slavery can be. He is the cream of the crap, but he is still crap.

It made me think about the boxes I live in. The culture I find myself socialized into. The way I let businesses and organizations do my sinning for me through unfair wages, slavery, exploiting the earths resources. What are the boxes I live in that are too small?
There are alot of problems I contribute to by living in the wealthiest society the world has ever known. There are alot of social inequalities that are present in our own backyard and worldwide. There is alot of work to be done in the church if we are to be as radically life-giving, selfless, joyful, trusting, missional as Christ and his early followers (though there are great examples all throughout history and in and among us :))

As usual, I dont have alot of answers, just more questions!
I guess I wish I could have better eyes to see the fictional walls around me. Those socialized barriers I face. I think steps to figuring out those boxes include:

1. Knowing people in different boxes. Christians are especially adept at finding people in the same box. We like seeing the same shaped box, it encourages us. "Nice box" we tell each other, and we pat each other on the backs and make mennonite soup and sing songs that sound slightly like popular music 10 years ago. We build a new box church so even other christians with slightly different shaped boxes won't fit. We can get to know more of the world if we hang out in other peoples box forts.

2..Exploring! Similar to number one I suppose... but different in that it is the physical pulling yourself out of the culture you have lived in and being dropped in elsewhere. Travelling, moving, biking across Canada (a future blog post :)), new jobs. I have this dream that in my life I will have a home base (Prince George?) But every 5 years go and live in a different country for a year. Get random jobs/experience/language training and be someone that never gets too stuck in his ways.

3. Self-reflection. "Are you not entertained!"  yells Maximus Aurilleus. No really, are you ever not entertained? Is there down-time in your life to sit and think. Time to escape to the mountains, or a shack, or a journal, or even just talk your thoughts out over some guitar chords?

Now that I have made a 3-point agenda, the pastor's son in me can rest. And hopefully the rest of me can too, good night!