This post is really long, READ IT ANYWAY!!!

I remember everything about my best friend, even though I haven't had any contact with him for 20 years. His life changed mine; God used him to shape me in ways I didn't understand for a long time...probably still don't really understand completely now (despite my tremendous depth of brilliance and intellect - ha!). The end of my 5th grade year a "new kid on the block" (you got the right stuff) had moved into our neighborhood. I didn't know him very well, but for some reason all of the other kids hated him. I would guess that it was because he was extremely poor and everything that goes along with that, but that couldn't have been it because that was the norm for kids in our neighborhood (they were probably just big fat jerks). I only know of one family that still had mom and dad together (not mine); and actually only one that did not have a parent on drugs or booze, which we witnessed alot back then (my dad was the one who wasn't). I don't think the reason matters, they hated him because they wanted to. Because everyone hated him I tried to hate him too, but the kid kept coming around...sitting next to me on the bus, coming by my house every day, standing by me at the bus stop. Was he trying to make everyone hate me too? That wasn't very friendly of him! The summer came and for my 11th birthday my dad said I could invite 12 friends to a party at a new place called "Pelican Pete's"...go karts, video arcade, mini golf, batting cages, pizza, cake, the whole nine yards. This would be a big deal to the people I had as friends, and to me. I don't think I had done it on purpose but I invited 13. The day of the party I realized my error and knew what I needed to do - I had to disinvite Brandon, "the new kid on the block" (hanging tough). Everyone started to arrive to load up in my dad's tiny pickup. Boys will lap up if it means the chance to slam their friend's go kart into the wall with their go kart and spin them around. When Brandon showed up I told him the bad news - I had overinvited and he couldn't come. There just wasn't enough room, my dad couldn't pay for the extra person, I gave him a few really good reasons. I expected anger - which would have been a just reaction. He was heartbroken; he didn't say anything and just walked down the street toward his house. I went into my house and lost it - crying uncontrollably out of guilt for what I had done. My dad did what my dad has always seemed to do...the right thing. We loaded up the pickup truck and started to drive. He pulled up to Brandon's driveway and walked with me up to the door so I could apologize for what had happened, and invited him to go along. If it had not been for my dad that day I never would have done the right thing; I would have gone along with everyone else for who knows how long hating someone just because. But my dad helped me past that, bringing me to a point where I could be friends with this kid because someone I looked up to thought it was good - after this no one else's opinion mattered. We had a great time that day - I think (I might have been biased since I was the one getting all the presents and stuff). For the next year Brandon and I were inseparable. The "new kid on the block" (please don't go girl) came over to my house almost everyday, with his two little brothers in tow. I was 11, Brandon 10, and little brothers 6 and 4. The circumstances in their families past somehow led this 10 year old to be responsible for the upbringing of his two little brothers...and he never cared. The way he treated them, I could tell he loved them. I don't remember ever meeting their mom; she worked at a few different restaurants at once as a waitress, just to pay the rent and keep them eating. Some of the best times I had though were spent at their house, where they had nothing. No nintendo, no VCR, no trampoline or basketball hoop. Just each other. I remember my dad would give me money to go to a store about 2 miles away on my bike so I could get a soda and candy or ice cream or whatever. Brandon and brothers would go along, with money from mom for Milk and Bread. They had no bike and the brothers were too small to ride mine. Brandon and I would take turns towing the little brothers on the handle bars. I was learning that my life was meaningful; that what I did mattered to someone else. Brandon always told me I was his best friend, that he told his mom at night when she would come home about me and all the great fun stuff we did. What's weird is that I remember spending the night at his house several times and mom never coming home - maybe he had these imaginary conversations with her, and told me what he wanted to tell her but never had the chance to because she was too busy to listen to him. The next summer, between 6th and 7th grade, my dad decided he wanted to ruin my life. We moved about a half hour away, which to a kid that age might as well be across the world. I had to go to a different school than all my friends and I couldn't ride my bike to all of their houses. And I couldn't hang out with Brandon everyday. They had no phone. For the first 2 months on weekends my dad would drive me to Brandon's house; I would stay with him at his house for the weekend because he couldn't leave his brothers alone to go to my house. As July 14th approached my dad had told me that he was going to take me to Adventure Island Water Park in Tampa for my birthday - the most exciting place I had ever been that I was old enough to enjoy...and I could invite one friend. It was a no brainer for me, I invited Brandon. He begged his mom and managed somehow to cover his shifts with the brothers, Beau and Jacob, so he could go. We went Saturday and had a great time; he spent the night at my house that night and returned home Sunday. Brandon said it was the most fun he had ever had, and thanked me probably a thousand times that weekend. The next weekend my dad took his usual trip far out of his way to take me to Brandon's house. When we pulled up and I knocked, no one answered. I looked in the windows and noticed that the small amount of furniture they had was gone. My dad was really good about it, again...we went door to door for about 15 houses or so, knocking on doors (some of them people we didn't even know) and asking if anyone knew where Brandon's family had gone and how to get in touch with them. We got about 15 different stories. I imagine now (again, in my inexhaustible wisdom) that Brandon's mom was running from something (or someone) and didn't want to be found; probably 0 of the 15 stories were true - I think we could have gone to a hundred houses and never known where they really had gone. After about the 3rd house that we went to, my dad had caught on (my best friend's family was gone and we weren't going to find out where they had gone to); still he drove me around helping me try to find out where they went. Fast forward to today - sometimes people wonder why I have a heart for kids living in less than ideal situations. That friendship has single handedly formed that part of my personality. I still remember the look on Brandon's face when I invited him to Adventure Island; when we pulled up and saw the place; when we went down the slides and yelled "let's do that one again"; when we both went home extremely sun burnt (L.Dexter!!!). I, with a lot of help from my dad, had impacted someone's life for good. I'm not sure if Brandon ever got to do stuff like that again, but I do know that we had brought good into his life then. My dad did things for him that he couldn't repay, and did it gladly. I hung out with him even though he didn't have anything to offer other than his companionship, his time, things that really do matter. In return, he loved me (closer than a brother). I could tell by the way he talked to me; the way he acted toward me. After the birthday party incident we never fought; never disagreed on anything; always had each other's backs, even at the expense of many friendships for myself (which I gladly sacrificed). WHAT DID I LEARN FROM MY FRIENDSHIP WITH BRANDON? Love begets love. It might take time for it to show, but hang in there. Real love, unbridled, unconditional, unmerited, begets love. God loves us in this way...He gave His only Son to die for people He knew would reject Him - some people who would even hate Him. But for the chance that maybe they would believe, for the opportunity to bridge the gap that sin had created between God and people, for the chance to engage in relationship with us...He did the unthinkable. I wonder who, if anyone, has ever given up their most precious relationship for the well being of others with no promise of reward. Who is that person? What did their emotional pain look like and sound like? What impact did that act have on the person it was done for? Brandon's friendship has taught me that God's love for me has only one proper, logical reaction...to love Him back. He (God) has loved me for no reason at all - i'm not worth it. In a spiritual sense (tied in to the Brandon/Danny Quail friendship sense), I have no Nintendo to offer God to play with; no cool trampoline to jump on; no money to share. And yet He shares His bike with me because I have none; He takes me to Adventure Island and Pelican Pete-like places that I would never be able to go to. He keeps loving me, and keeps loving me, and keeps loving me. He pursues me; He comes a great distance on a regular basis to engage in a relationship with me. All I can do is love Him back. I know this might sound confusing, but I really am learning how to tie in my real life lessons into a spiritual lesson about my relationship with God. I wonder alot about what may have become of Brandon...I know my hope is that as time went on life got easier for him and his family. That he was able to experience joy, alot. That he knows how much God loves him, and has a great relationship with Him. Love begets love; unbridled, passionate, limitless, unmerited, for no good reason at all. Experience it; He's offering it. Accept it; He wants you to have it. And as for Brandon - I hope someday to be able to rekindle our friendship, one that has impacted me tremendously, in a perfect "Adventure Island" prepared for us by God that is without a doubt unfathomably better than the one we went to in July 1988. I might perhaps be the worst lover of God in the history of mankind; I'm sorry. I know I am continually doing a poor job of loving other people too; again, I apologize. Pray for me, as my single greatest desire is to be a passionate, commited lover of God; and the second is like it, to be able to love people in a beautiful, demonstrative way. Until next time, God bless.

I love the big FL!

It's only taken me a couple weeks to figure out that i'm one of those people who starts a blog, then seriously neglects it. I'm not too surprised however, as it falls in line with just about everything else in my life that i'm supposed to have maintained or kept active. Among them include:
* the dog I had for one day because it tore my place apart and tried to get me evicted. It really was a cute little puppy, I just didn't think that both of us deserved to be homeless because he was hyperactive.
* every dating relationship i've ever had.
* every church i've attended and everything that goes along with that.
* plants that I (rarely) have obtained.
* my dreadlocks back in 2002.
So I came back from my vacation in Florida. I had a good time, it was very relaxing. I got to go see some of the kids back at my old Y, the staff there, had dinner with someone just about every night I was there, went to the beach, swam at the pool, saw grandma and uncle Jim (and a naked picture of some young woman named "Honey" out of Penthouse magazine 1983 by way of my uncle and his weird sense of humor), and got to go to Grace Church twice. It's funny how a picture of a beautiful woman naked just isn't appreciated the same way in the presence of your grandmother. I also got to spend several days with my dad. I actually thought about not coming back to TN, but then I reminded myself that all of my stuff was here. My books, computer, cd's, etc. You know, all the stuff that matters in life.
At this point I don't have much of an idea of anything that is going to happen in regards to my life after May 20th. Fingers crossed...I'm still looking for some sort of opportunity like working at a camp that serves homeless kids in an inner city, or living and working with refugees in Darfur, or something like that. That's all for now, until we meet again...
After you finish reading this:
VISIT the website www.secondharvest.org . It's great to know that there are people out there who haven't forgotten what "loving your neighbor" looks like in action.

2 more days...

I am going back to Florida to visit in only 2 more days. I'm VERY earnestly looking forward to going. While there I plan to spend a couple days with my dad, meeting up with a few people i've told i'm coming (Clare, Alicia, Brent, Pastor Tony), and doing something that i'm torn about. I am planning on going back to my old Y in V-town and hanging with the people I worked with and the kids there for a bit. How will this go? Will I go back and be like, "Man, I'm glad I left", or will I leave thinking "What a mistake i've made leaving here"? Or, which I'm hoping, will I be somewhere in the middle?
The ironic thing to me is that about two months ago I was somewhat desperate to go back...thinking about going back even permanently. But now that i've started to adjust to TN life I'm optimistic about visiting, but also not so sure I would want to stay forever. When I first got to the Nashville area I didn't have work, no friends, didn't know how or where to spend my time. Now i've found my church time enjoyable, ways to serve others (which is always fulfilling), and starting to lay the foundations of some good relationships with people here. I am really liking the people I work with, and the kids I work with.
And even bigger: I've learned so much here...about other people, about myself, and, most importantly, about God. I've learned about empathy for those less fortunate (seeing the stark contrast between what poverty is where I came from and the reality of what poverty truly is outside of the Venice and Charlotte communities). I've learned about the value of, and what is, a quality relationship. I've started to garner (but not fully attained) a more intimate understanding of God's involvement in my life - and that it is actually there. It has really made a big difference in my life - if not outwardly, at least inwardly. And I know this inward change is what will bring about a longer lasting outward change for good.
I'm so thankful to God for things I used to take for granted. Food for example. Not just seeing others starving, but facing that week where my mom and brother had been out of work for a while and I hadn't worked yet. Being broke and getting to the point where everything was gone (literally) except the box of popcorn. Living off that popcorn for several days (I hate popcorn by the way) until God showed his providence in my life and provided - and we had no control over the situation at all.
On a side note, interacting and helping the poor and hopeless brings a whole new dimension to your understanding of the problem of poverty and how real and desperate it is. Not just mailing off money, or doing an online donation.
Will God always provide food? Surely by seeing other people's situation around me I unfortunately know that the answer possibly is "no". But I do know that God's love for me supercedes everything else, starving or not; ability to walk or not (I love walking - hehe).
I'm thankful for what God has done for me since October through my struggles. Leaving everyone I knew and cared for (twice in 6 months). Battling depression, the struggle of gaining weight, then losing weight, then gaining again because of my medication (and my love for fatty foods!!!). The thoughts i've had because of the label itself...words like "bi-polar" and "clinically depressed" are not how I want to describe myself. But despite those things I have this keen feeling that God sees me as much more than my weaknesses...much more than my failures...even though I can hardly believe it because I know myself too well for it to be easy to believe. I'm looking forward to being able to see the old things in my life when I go back home through a new lens. The lens that shows me that I am valued by God and that nothing can stand in the way of His furious, pursuant love for me and for other people.
In ending my scrambled thoughts for tonight, I relay this:
I recently read a book by Donald Miller called "To Own A Dragon". In it, a man was speaking to the author about his relationship with his son, and his relationship with everyone else in the world, to demonstrate God's love for us. In a nutshell, he said this...that when a man holds his son for the first time in the hospital, he just loves him. The son hasn't done anything, he was just the man's son (and that was enough). Every other relationship the man had in life was built on what the person had done for him, took time, often wavered, and sometimes even dissipated. His love for others was often contingent upon something - how he felt that day, how beautiful the person was, etc. But not so with his love for his son. It is as strong each day as it was that first day. That is God's love for His children, of which I am one.