(Permission was granted to share this story. )

He was just a kid back then.

Cool attitude, loved playing the guitar, mostly teachable and he dreamed of making it BIG.

We met at Bible Camp and stayed connected via a youth pastor, a guitar teacher, a mediterranean restaurant in downtown Portland and a small band that played there on the weekends. I was teaching at the local Adventist high school, working on finding ways for students to invest in their dreams. He went to a different academy but he kept dropping by and we became friends.

I was working on an album with Jon Ciccarelli, Worship For A New Generation, and that captured his imagination…fueled it. He dug in and all too soon he had bypassed any skill I might have had on guitar. As the years rolled by, we spent lots of time together…creating great worship sets at local churches, crafting ideas around songs I was writing and sharing a coffee or two…hundred:-)

As his skill increased so did his desire to stretch into the local professional music community. He was endearing, skilled and growing into a future monster of ability. He found styles of music that pushed him into cultures that welcomed him with open arms. Yet, skill pays a price if it’s not grounded and often you don’t know if you’re grounded until you free fall.

With the rise in success came substances and relationships that stretched his values and created tensions in his old relationships. We would talk, encourage each other, but his trajectory through successes minefield left me fearful…and yet, I loved that he was pushing the boundaries of his cultural limitations…a teeter-totter of admiration and waiting for the crash and burn.

 

And, unfortunately, it came. After playing in bands that were close to getting national recognition, it all fell apart. Habits and weariness pushed him into reclusion and his isolation allowed very few in. Years passed and the young man I met in his late teens became a distant 30 something. The fantasy of youth crumbled into a lonely reality. Add to the broken dreams the discovery of mental challenges such as being bi-polar and wrestling with ADHD and you get a sense of the hopelessness that chained his heart.

 

This is the pause…the space between what was and what could be.

 

As people we love move into uncharted territory…what are we supposed to do? They cross over into unfamiliar relational lanes of connection. They appear in our minds as we go about our daily lives, a longing in memory of what was, and yet we don’t want to pursue what may not work out…we don’t want to waste our time. And we don’t want to force the relationship. It gets mentally awkward.

I’m a connector by nature and intention…and a believer in the efforts of the Spirit to weave our brokeness into the beauty of deep relationship. With that in mind, I have been exploring the idea that if something enters my mind that is not illegal, immoral or unbiblical… in broad terms, that I will consider it a push of the Spirit and try to engage.

 

And so it was that I found myself sitting on his front porch…prompted by the Spirit or whimsy. I had let him know I was there but there was no response. As time passed, I got thirsty, so I let him know I was headed out to get some coffee and that I would be back. Ready to engage when he was. As I best remember, it was an hour or two later that he opened the door…metaphorically and physically.

The house was dark, almost tomblike, with a large tv and his dog, Memphis, the only signs of life. He found me a place to sit, moving clothes and whimsy aside, and we started to watch tv and get caught up. The hours passed and the relationship, much like Lazarus, came out into the open and the burial cloths started to come off…unwound piece by piece.

 

It hasn’t been always easy. He’s pro-Trump and Jesus and I’m not pro-Trump and Jesus. We each have our little snarkyness that shows up now and then, but we are committed to the rebirth of this community. Unfortunately, for him, I bring opportunities for connection wherever I go and over time, he has found the benefit of that weaving of lives. And change has started to unravel old considerations. What was once a very small table that held his mother, me and him…has stretched into a much bigger emotional space, where other connections have started to be drawn in.

Several examples that come to mind. He housed an old friend for weeks as this friend wrestled with a broken relationship…once, staying up with him all night because of some substance abuse…finally calling the paramedics, worried about his survival. Another communal generosity is when he allowed an abused mom and her three kids to stay with him for over a year as she struggled to put her life back together. And just recently he allowed two young college musicians to stay at his home while he taught them recording studio basics.

He has great days and tough days, but even on the tough days he has committed to Do One Thing, rather than get wrapped up in the slog. It’s hard, but it works, mostly. And he has community that has proven itself supportive and loving…and I am grateful to be a part of that.

 

So, NEVER QUIT letting the Spirit influence your relationship pursuits. He who stands at the door and knocks is forever striving to connect to us and through us, building that kingdom now that will move into eternity.

 

And for my atheist/agnostic friends…your lack of belief doesn’t change the process. I call it Spirit and you can call it whimsical, subconscious bullshit:-)…and yet, when an old friend, that you haven’t talked to in years, comes to mind…reach out and see what happens. Connection matters.

 

Love to all.