- David likes to call micro-phenomenological.
- David likes to perform on Comic Relief day and whenever he has a bit too much to drink down Chasers.
- David likes to spend his free time riding his bike, kayaking or surfing
- DAVID likes to shake it about.
- David likes to joke, even with his parents
- daviD liKes to eAt spicy tHai food at 3AM
- David likes to eat Russian food. In the evening for dinner he eats noodles and borshcht and vegetables.
- David likes to hang out with his wife
- Well-behaved and well-liked, eleven year old David likes to be “one of the guys.”
- David likes to think big.
- David likes to play guitar, travel, and speak something resembling Portuguese.
- David likes to live in a hole and not be disturbed
Thursday, February 12, 2009
David likes to…
What does Google know about you? See what I found when I search for my name… Google “<insert your name> likes to”
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sweet Worship
Cindy and I were driving over Horseshoe Bend Hill Sunday morning. It was beautiful. We had fresh snow, the first of the winter season. The hills were whitewashed and the world stood peaceful, there was a crisp purity in the air. The road was snow-covered and heavy yellow snowplows were working to make a safer drive. We were apprehensive—not only for the dangerous road, but also because we were leading worship at Payette River Vineyard, formerly Sweet Vineyard.
Before I get ahead of myself, I would like to give a little history on my worship experience. I think it will give a better sense of context. Hopefully, for those involved, it will be a fun trip down memory lane.
I started my worship leader experience in high school. I was quite active in our youth group at Central Assembly in Boise, led by Terry Andrews. Many of our key youth leaders left the church, and for me, there was a sense of emptiness and abandonment. Because there was a need, I started playing the drums; I was terrible. As I remember, we had a few adults leading worship, which didn’t seem right to me. Learning a few chords, I switched over to playing guitar and singing, leading a small band of two (myself and a young drummer that fortunately took my place). Cindy joined the team, Christian Salzillo, Mike Fretwell, Rachel Goodwin (Franks now), and Micah Deffries soon followed. We had a great time learning to play and sing, learning the meaning of worship and camaraderie, and the huge responsibility of being a leader.
Cindy and I were dating after high school and felt God calling us to leave Central for VCF, as it was called back then. We were soon involved with the Youth Group there, leading worship and small groups in Tri’s converted garage. After a couple years, Cindy and I left the Vineyard and got married at Tom’s (Cindy’s dad) church, Meridian Assembly (MAG). What is it with acronyms and churches? We led worship in the Youth Group for a couple years, mostly singing Vineyard songs. This led us to realize that the Vineyard was our home and we longed to return. We packed up and came back to The Vineyard with farewells and good wishes from the MAG Youth.
Trevor and Andrea Estes were getting back from Malaysia and were going to be leading the Youth Group. Trevor invited Cindy and I to be leaders, where we started leading worship again, occasionally playing in the adult Sunday service. For several years, this was our calling. We watched the Youth Group outgrow the small auditorium, then the Barnabus Center, and finally moving to the newly built Chapel. God blessed us and we were pouring our hearts into the youth. We loved the kids and the relationships with the other leaders.
Two years ago, Sunday Youth was canceled. It seemed like a good idea, and I was wholeheartedly on board. The adult service needed young life to refresh and renew. The youth needed the maturity of the larger church—it was like two separate churches, quite disconnected. The concept was simple: merge the two, taking the best of both to form a whole and complete body, a coalescing marriage, not assimilation.
I was excited for the change. Cindy and I would get to be a part of our adult friend’s church and continue the ministry with the kids we loved so much as our own family. To my dismay, I was told plainly that I was ‘not good enough for the Vineyard.’ I could play bass, for that I was adequate. (In my mind I would be taking a space away from one of my youth.) I was shocked. The ministry that I had devoted much of my life, seen fruit, and had received great joy, was being taken, and that hurt deeply. I soon became indignant and had feelings of entitlement, which turned to deep depression and suicidal thoughts and plans.
I couldn’t help but feeling a failure and discounted the positive for blindness, stupidity, exploitation and worthlessness. I rejected the church and sought solace inside myself and resolved never to be part of leadership in organized church again.
The reality is this: I placed my identity in a function. When I was no longer functioning in that role, I had no identity. I misplaced my joy in the ministry and being used by God and seeing the positive effects. I felt important, obeying and doing God’s work. On the surface, you might think that sounds pretty good and right; I thought it was. We spent hours discussing self-righteous performance, pastoring others, finding the art in God, and growing in our own relationship with God. But, the ministry was mine. It was not entirely God’s.
Sometimes God allows our identity to be taken to bring us back to His heart, where we find our true identification as his child and his most precious, where we are perfect, beautiful, and exactly as He has intended us to be.
Cindy and I arrived at the Payette River Vineyard to a welcoming congregation. I played a guitar for the first time in two years, rusty and lacking the fingers, but not concerned. There was no real practice. There were no parts, no solos, no backbeats, delays, reverbs, or cleverness—just a borrowed acoustic guitar, a djimbe, and a chorus, a sweet aroma cast to the heavens. In that moment, we were perfect. In that moment we had sweet worship. It is in that moment that I am broken and moving toward healing.
Before I get ahead of myself, I would like to give a little history on my worship experience. I think it will give a better sense of context. Hopefully, for those involved, it will be a fun trip down memory lane.
I started my worship leader experience in high school. I was quite active in our youth group at Central Assembly in Boise, led by Terry Andrews. Many of our key youth leaders left the church, and for me, there was a sense of emptiness and abandonment. Because there was a need, I started playing the drums; I was terrible. As I remember, we had a few adults leading worship, which didn’t seem right to me. Learning a few chords, I switched over to playing guitar and singing, leading a small band of two (myself and a young drummer that fortunately took my place). Cindy joined the team, Christian Salzillo, Mike Fretwell, Rachel Goodwin (Franks now), and Micah Deffries soon followed. We had a great time learning to play and sing, learning the meaning of worship and camaraderie, and the huge responsibility of being a leader.
Cindy and I were dating after high school and felt God calling us to leave Central for VCF, as it was called back then. We were soon involved with the Youth Group there, leading worship and small groups in Tri’s converted garage. After a couple years, Cindy and I left the Vineyard and got married at Tom’s (Cindy’s dad) church, Meridian Assembly (MAG). What is it with acronyms and churches? We led worship in the Youth Group for a couple years, mostly singing Vineyard songs. This led us to realize that the Vineyard was our home and we longed to return. We packed up and came back to The Vineyard with farewells and good wishes from the MAG Youth.
Trevor and Andrea Estes were getting back from Malaysia and were going to be leading the Youth Group. Trevor invited Cindy and I to be leaders, where we started leading worship again, occasionally playing in the adult Sunday service. For several years, this was our calling. We watched the Youth Group outgrow the small auditorium, then the Barnabus Center, and finally moving to the newly built Chapel. God blessed us and we were pouring our hearts into the youth. We loved the kids and the relationships with the other leaders.
Two years ago, Sunday Youth was canceled. It seemed like a good idea, and I was wholeheartedly on board. The adult service needed young life to refresh and renew. The youth needed the maturity of the larger church—it was like two separate churches, quite disconnected. The concept was simple: merge the two, taking the best of both to form a whole and complete body, a coalescing marriage, not assimilation.
I was excited for the change. Cindy and I would get to be a part of our adult friend’s church and continue the ministry with the kids we loved so much as our own family. To my dismay, I was told plainly that I was ‘not good enough for the Vineyard.’ I could play bass, for that I was adequate. (In my mind I would be taking a space away from one of my youth.) I was shocked. The ministry that I had devoted much of my life, seen fruit, and had received great joy, was being taken, and that hurt deeply. I soon became indignant and had feelings of entitlement, which turned to deep depression and suicidal thoughts and plans.
I couldn’t help but feeling a failure and discounted the positive for blindness, stupidity, exploitation and worthlessness. I rejected the church and sought solace inside myself and resolved never to be part of leadership in organized church again.
The reality is this: I placed my identity in a function. When I was no longer functioning in that role, I had no identity. I misplaced my joy in the ministry and being used by God and seeing the positive effects. I felt important, obeying and doing God’s work. On the surface, you might think that sounds pretty good and right; I thought it was. We spent hours discussing self-righteous performance, pastoring others, finding the art in God, and growing in our own relationship with God. But, the ministry was mine. It was not entirely God’s.
Sometimes God allows our identity to be taken to bring us back to His heart, where we find our true identification as his child and his most precious, where we are perfect, beautiful, and exactly as He has intended us to be.
Cindy and I arrived at the Payette River Vineyard to a welcoming congregation. I played a guitar for the first time in two years, rusty and lacking the fingers, but not concerned. There was no real practice. There were no parts, no solos, no backbeats, delays, reverbs, or cleverness—just a borrowed acoustic guitar, a djimbe, and a chorus, a sweet aroma cast to the heavens. In that moment, we were perfect. In that moment we had sweet worship. It is in that moment that I am broken and moving toward healing.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Disclaimer
From Through Painted Deserts, by Donald Miller:
The last two years away from Vineyard Boise (my church home) has given me space to think and reprocess ideas that were a given, response that became routine, relationships that were more about function than genuine bond, thought that seemed programmed. Explaining that Cindy and I are just figuring things out doesn’t ease our church-going friends concern. But, there rings truth in what D. Miller writes.
I’ve attended church nearly every Sunday of my life, and many midweek functions, worship practices, and Bible and book studies. It is customary to be involved in church, especially church leadership. Stepping back and evaluating has given a measure of clarity.
I think it would be easy to lump this line of thought into the ‘corporate church shortcomings’ bashing camp. And while it would also be easy for me to join the crowd, hold the sign, and scream my dissatisfaction, it would be irresponsible not to thoughtfully consider the place God has put me and the people and ideas He reveals daily and accept my own responsibility.
My life is on a major change-course. I want to be a better husband, friend, follower of God, and an awesome dad. Not that I wasn’t trying before, except the dad part. I just didn’t have grace for myself to make mistakes and certainly didn’t want to look back at my issues or allow space for anyone to judge.
I am realizing the power of writing. Not as in a power over others, but for me; this is a selfish conceit. I need to remember where I’ve been and process the journey. I’m not saying I have it all figured out, nor that I am wandering, lost in a world of secularism. Neither am I a theologian, apologist, philosopher, or seminary trained, or English major. I don’t make any claims to be a writer, scholarly, speaking from God, or even right. (I reserve the right to change my mind.) I just need to evaluate—perhaps it will help resolve things you may be going through. I hope this will begin a journey of processing and sharing the healing in my life and a way to look back and see the chalk-marks through the crux.
I will probably reveal things about myself that many of you don’t know, if I can find courage. I might say things I shouldn’t say and I’ll probably write things that are inappropriate for children, narrow-minded fools and zealots. I’ll try to be transparent and real. If you don’t like that or want to know these things, don’t read my writings. But, I hope to find truth, friends, allies, and accountability (from those friends and allies).
You have been warned. :)
david
It’s interesting how you sometimes have to leave home before you can ask difficult questions, how the questions never come up in the room you grew up in, in the town in which you were born. It’s funny how you can’t ask difficult questions in a familiar place, how you have to stand back a few feet and see things in a new way before you realize nothing that is happening to you is normal.
The last two years away from Vineyard Boise (my church home) has given me space to think and reprocess ideas that were a given, response that became routine, relationships that were more about function than genuine bond, thought that seemed programmed. Explaining that Cindy and I are just figuring things out doesn’t ease our church-going friends concern. But, there rings truth in what D. Miller writes.
I’ve attended church nearly every Sunday of my life, and many midweek functions, worship practices, and Bible and book studies. It is customary to be involved in church, especially church leadership. Stepping back and evaluating has given a measure of clarity.
I think it would be easy to lump this line of thought into the ‘corporate church shortcomings’ bashing camp. And while it would also be easy for me to join the crowd, hold the sign, and scream my dissatisfaction, it would be irresponsible not to thoughtfully consider the place God has put me and the people and ideas He reveals daily and accept my own responsibility.
My life is on a major change-course. I want to be a better husband, friend, follower of God, and an awesome dad. Not that I wasn’t trying before, except the dad part. I just didn’t have grace for myself to make mistakes and certainly didn’t want to look back at my issues or allow space for anyone to judge.
I am realizing the power of writing. Not as in a power over others, but for me; this is a selfish conceit. I need to remember where I’ve been and process the journey. I’m not saying I have it all figured out, nor that I am wandering, lost in a world of secularism. Neither am I a theologian, apologist, philosopher, or seminary trained, or English major. I don’t make any claims to be a writer, scholarly, speaking from God, or even right. (I reserve the right to change my mind.) I just need to evaluate—perhaps it will help resolve things you may be going through. I hope this will begin a journey of processing and sharing the healing in my life and a way to look back and see the chalk-marks through the crux.
I will probably reveal things about myself that many of you don’t know, if I can find courage. I might say things I shouldn’t say and I’ll probably write things that are inappropriate for children, narrow-minded fools and zealots. I’ll try to be transparent and real. If you don’t like that or want to know these things, don’t read my writings. But, I hope to find truth, friends, allies, and accountability (from those friends and allies).
You have been warned. :)
david
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