NOWHERE

I’m sitting here at an open mic. I’ve got a green tea and seat without a view. The music is loud enough to make up for my lack of vision. I could listen to this guy play all night long. No, I Guess I can’t my name is on the list. Gotta get up there and play in a moment. Two songs away.

What am I doing? I ask myself. The answer comes back with resounding clarity- “GO.” I may not have the rest of the Great Commission figured out. I don’t need to have it figured out. I’m here. Teaching, sometimes with words, sometimes via example. Where is the strong point? I don’t have an answer for you.

Making disciples? Teaching to observe? Baptizing? Maybe just a bit of each of it. Discipleship building is a long term mentorship example that takes time, time, time. To observe -especially the new commandment that we love one another. Baptizing with the music and the sound of the Holy Ghost filling the room. The conviction, the authenticity and the drive. The desire to be relevant and the humility to remain insignificant in a world or room full of “look at me.”

The stage is a strange place. Tonight I invited ———— up on the stage to play with me. We had just met. He rocked it. The understood implied is that I played between this paragraph and the last. I did 3 songs. 1) So Mote It Be 2) PTSD 3) Plus (with the REM bit thrown in for good measure…)

After the set a guy came up and asked, “did you write the PTSD song?” I told him that I did. “That one hit hard,” he said.

Did I do more than “GO?” Am I fulfilling the Great Commission? I know I want to go home and sit on the couch. Crap! It’s 2028. By the time I get home it would be too late to hang with Kate. I’m thankful for her job and the money it brings. I know she loves being on that team. I just miss her.

More and more people have shuffled in. Should I have waited to play? Shoulda, woulda, coulda?

Open mics. A moment in time. I need to do some more shows. 15 minutes isn’t enough. Ugh. More time away from home. Why?

Someone has burned one down. It’s a sweet smell drifting on the air. I’m compelled to leave. The teenager playing the song is adlibing inaudible noise. Now she is on to CREEP. Finally. I’m the one floating like a feather… nope I’m not. The question comes up in the song -“what the lleh am I doing here?” I resonate.

But I know what I’m doing here. I’m being the representative of Christ in the room at the moment. Too many “Christian’s” have left the room. Too many are home on the couch, watching TV. I gotta be here.

Ever wonder why all the creatives and artist are not Christians? I have pondered it. The reason I came upon is this —a long time ago Christians left the room. They left the education systems. They left the movie production companies. They left the arts. They left politics. Most of them left the church. And now it’s just us out here.

A few sinners saved by grace and a few sinners looking for salvation, that’s us. And so I drive on. Struggle on. Step by step. Moment by moment.

I sure am thankful to and for the folks that support the Vet Church vision. Old trucks, leaky roofs, insurance, I can barely keep it going. If it wasn’t for the folks kicking in gas money. I don’t think I could keep going. Oh and the folks that buy my art. Yeah, that’s paying some of the bills. It does take a tribe to share the gospel.

I want to do more. I have plans. I have vision. But if not another thing happens I will keep going. If one person discovers God through this ministry it has been worth it. And most of the time I’m having fun.

Is this the JOY of Thy Salvation? I know…

So do you