...faith.
I'm surrounded by people of 'faith', yet I constantly struggle to figure out what that actually looks like.
I struggle, becuase I've never seen inside the United States. I only first saw it when I arrived in Kenya last summer.
You can read more about it in my earlier blogs.
I saw hope. I saw trust. Joy. Happiness... but most of all I saw faith. These peoeple, dispite having nothing and nothing to live for, they find Christ in EVERY situation. It was border-line sickening.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm proud to be an American (where at least I know I'm free, and I wont forget the men who died to give that right to meeeee... and I'll gladly (pause) stand UP next to you and defend her still today. ‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land, God bless the USA) but sadly we must face that we live in a Godless country. Not that he's not here, but that we don't choose to acknowledge him.
Sure some of us do (myself certainly not included) but corporatly, as a nation, we don't.
As many of you know, I've been struggling with a lot of things lately. Struggling with my job, my brain, my calling, the list could go on and on... surprisingly, I was cheered up today by an e-mail that otherwise wouldn't be so cheery.
This is from world-renown photographer, Bobby Pal. (I'll post some of his pictures here one day)
Bobby lives in Kenya, but is often employed by governments to do photography work. He sent me this e-mail today:
"hey slim my bro
how are you
thought of you today as i was having my devotions
im still in france
but im sad about what is happening
we pray in all this Jesus would be seen
we need you prayers and pls tell as many people as you can to pray for kenya
your brother
bobby"
Despite all the fighting and such going on in Kenya (which thankfully he's not directly in the middle of) Bobby is able to look past it, put HIS feelings about his country, government, and well being aside to seek out God through it.
Bobby gives me hope.
I hope that I can keep it...
Please, pray for Bobby... for Kenya... Africa... the world... and me.
SLIM
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
The heart of worship...
...is a song that I'm not entirely thrilled about.
Random.
I know.
A song I seemed to have lost interest in through the years, probably due to the fact that since '99 (when the tune came out) until now, I've played the song roughly 1,299,384,583,598,324,256,776,209.25 times.
But...
Due to recent events, the words of this semi-sacred worship classic ring true.
I'll give you the quick run down:
They say that your first Christmas as a married couple is the most memorable. I would agree.
Our First Christmas weekend started a little like this.... I knew that I would be playing with 'Grey No More' at a camp in Alva, FL from the Wednesday after Crimma to the following Sunday, so I packed up all of my gear to get it out of the way (one less thing to worry about when we got home.)
I decided that we should leave my guitars and amps at my folks house, just to be safe. So we packed up the presents for my family and headed to their house.
We dropped off the presents the my parents house and randomly got into conversation with the f-a-m... after a while we realized that we had lost track of time and were going to be late to a hockey game with some friends (FL Everblades vs. Columba Inferno... we won... and by 'we' I mean the Inferno... don't get me wrong, I love the Blades, but theys gots nothin on my Inferno!) so we dipped out..
As we started to leave, mom reminded me that we had not dropped the gear off!
"I'll either drop it off in the morning, or just leave it in my garage..." I said "....no big deal!" I casually mumbled.
We headed off to the game, and made it back home around Midnight.
I was on the other side of the house when I hear what sounded like a mass quantitiy of glass shattering, followed by a gentle, but sad "Help..."
Without hesitation (after a couple moments) I ran (walked briskly, anyway) through the cribble to find the Crimma Tree on the floor and a few dozen glass and porcelain ornaments strewn across our tile floor in a broken mess...
"No big deal..." the thought rang through my cranium once again.
After about an hour of sweeping and fighting the dog off, we were able to get the last of it picked up, at which time Laura and I went to the room and passed out.
I woke up early Saturday (before Crimma) remembering that my gear was in my car, and was preparing myself to clean it all out to head to O-Town for Crimma with The Macks.
As the garage door began to open...
Slowly...
I saw that my rear passenger door was open.
For some reason, the garage door now started to open MUCH, MUCH slower... as if the whole world began to hold it's breath..
It continued to open to reveal that my trunk too, was ajar.
To my dismay I found that I had 4 guitars, 2 amps, and roughly $900 worth of microphones jacked from my A-B Ride...
Sad.
I know.
Tell me about it!
I thought again: "No big deal..."
What seemed, at the time, to be a small issue turned into a train wreck. I waited for the police report to clear that Thursday and on called my {INSERT LARGE NATIONAL INSURANCE COMPANY NAME HERE} agent to break him the good news... Turns out I had no insurance, and my renters could only cover $1000 of the close to $15,000 loss.
Sadder.
I knower.
Tell me more-er about it!
It was in this moment that God began knocking at my door.
I had been feeling for a while that God was trying to get my attention. It was pretty much unmistakable at this point.
I wrestled with the thought that I just wasn't meant to play music.
"Is this true?" I had to ask myself.
"Did God take me this far, just to drop me off?" I continued...
"God, am I NOT supposed to be doing this?" I couldn't help but ask.
I asked this question for a couple of days. After which point God seemed to deliver the metaphorical 'back-hand', stating that "...if I didn't need you to do this, I wouldn't have left you with one guitar!"
It made sense.
Out of all the gear they was pilfered from me, they left the ONLY guitar really worth taking: 1981 Les Paul.
It seemed as if Mr. Redman had penned that tune just for me. For once in my life all really HAD BEEN stripped away from me.
I had no choice. I HAD to come to God... empty-handed... humbled... completely dependent on God.
God began to speak to me about worship. Not singing at church on Sunday... but WORSHIP. What it meant to glorify God in EVERYTHING that I do. In my realtionship with my wife... my family... my friends... even my dog!
In the way I do my job... talk to strangers... watch TV...
"WORSHIP ME!" God seemed to bellow from somewhere in the clouds.
I decided to leave 'Grey No More' that week. I would then follow suit and leave the Summit Worship Band as well... for a while anyway.
God seemed to pull me off the 'stage' saying how He didn't need me to be up there if I wasn't going to LEAD people, not just with music, but with MY LIFE.
I began to fast and pray about my life... my roll in worship... what I'm supposed to do with this little bit talent, large imagination, and new-found education.
I'm still not sure what it is... but I feel closer to it... we'll see what the future holds.
Please pray for me.
Amani,
SLIM
p.s. Looks like {INSERT LARGE NATIONAL INSURANCE COMPANY NAME HERE} is going to pay for the boggarted equipment after all! SUCKERS!!
Random.
I know.
A song I seemed to have lost interest in through the years, probably due to the fact that since '99 (when the tune came out) until now, I've played the song roughly 1,299,384,583,598,324,256,776,209.25 times.
But...
Due to recent events, the words of this semi-sacred worship classic ring true.
I'll give you the quick run down:
They say that your first Christmas as a married couple is the most memorable. I would agree.
Our First Christmas weekend started a little like this.... I knew that I would be playing with 'Grey No More' at a camp in Alva, FL from the Wednesday after Crimma to the following Sunday, so I packed up all of my gear to get it out of the way (one less thing to worry about when we got home.)
I decided that we should leave my guitars and amps at my folks house, just to be safe. So we packed up the presents for my family and headed to their house.
We dropped off the presents the my parents house and randomly got into conversation with the f-a-m... after a while we realized that we had lost track of time and were going to be late to a hockey game with some friends (FL Everblades vs. Columba Inferno... we won... and by 'we' I mean the Inferno... don't get me wrong, I love the Blades, but theys gots nothin on my Inferno!) so we dipped out..
As we started to leave, mom reminded me that we had not dropped the gear off!
"I'll either drop it off in the morning, or just leave it in my garage..." I said "....no big deal!" I casually mumbled.
We headed off to the game, and made it back home around Midnight.
I was on the other side of the house when I hear what sounded like a mass quantitiy of glass shattering, followed by a gentle, but sad "Help..."
Without hesitation (after a couple moments) I ran (walked briskly, anyway) through the cribble to find the Crimma Tree on the floor and a few dozen glass and porcelain ornaments strewn across our tile floor in a broken mess...
"No big deal..." the thought rang through my cranium once again.
After about an hour of sweeping and fighting the dog off, we were able to get the last of it picked up, at which time Laura and I went to the room and passed out.
I woke up early Saturday (before Crimma) remembering that my gear was in my car, and was preparing myself to clean it all out to head to O-Town for Crimma with The Macks.
As the garage door began to open...
Slowly...
I saw that my rear passenger door was open.
For some reason, the garage door now started to open MUCH, MUCH slower... as if the whole world began to hold it's breath..
It continued to open to reveal that my trunk too, was ajar.
To my dismay I found that I had 4 guitars, 2 amps, and roughly $900 worth of microphones jacked from my A-B Ride...
Sad.
I know.
Tell me about it!
I thought again: "No big deal..."
What seemed, at the time, to be a small issue turned into a train wreck. I waited for the police report to clear that Thursday and on called my {INSERT LARGE NATIONAL INSURANCE COMPANY NAME HERE} agent to break him the good news... Turns out I had no insurance, and my renters could only cover $1000 of the close to $15,000 loss.
Sadder.
I knower.
Tell me more-er about it!
It was in this moment that God began knocking at my door.
I had been feeling for a while that God was trying to get my attention. It was pretty much unmistakable at this point.
I wrestled with the thought that I just wasn't meant to play music.
"Is this true?" I had to ask myself.
"Did God take me this far, just to drop me off?" I continued...
"God, am I NOT supposed to be doing this?" I couldn't help but ask.
I asked this question for a couple of days. After which point God seemed to deliver the metaphorical 'back-hand', stating that "...if I didn't need you to do this, I wouldn't have left you with one guitar!"
It made sense.
Out of all the gear they was pilfered from me, they left the ONLY guitar really worth taking: 1981 Les Paul.
It seemed as if Mr. Redman had penned that tune just for me. For once in my life all really HAD BEEN stripped away from me.
I had no choice. I HAD to come to God... empty-handed... humbled... completely dependent on God.
God began to speak to me about worship. Not singing at church on Sunday... but WORSHIP. What it meant to glorify God in EVERYTHING that I do. In my realtionship with my wife... my family... my friends... even my dog!
In the way I do my job... talk to strangers... watch TV...
"WORSHIP ME!" God seemed to bellow from somewhere in the clouds.
I decided to leave 'Grey No More' that week. I would then follow suit and leave the Summit Worship Band as well... for a while anyway.
God seemed to pull me off the 'stage' saying how He didn't need me to be up there if I wasn't going to LEAD people, not just with music, but with MY LIFE.
I began to fast and pray about my life... my roll in worship... what I'm supposed to do with this little bit talent, large imagination, and new-found education.
I'm still not sure what it is... but I feel closer to it... we'll see what the future holds.
Please pray for me.
Amani,
SLIM
p.s. Looks like {INSERT LARGE NATIONAL INSURANCE COMPANY NAME HERE} is going to pay for the boggarted equipment after all! SUCKERS!!
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
If there is only ONE THING that you would ever do for me...
...do it for the family if "Momma Jill" Whitlock.
Most of you who know me, are also familiar with one, more, or all of the Whitlock brothers: Jacob "Kubby" Whitlock, Jonathan "Jables" Whitlock, and Jesse "Big Sammitch" Whitlock.
Three invaluable friends of mine, who had one of the most precious mothers: Momma Jill.
Rather unexpectadly, Momma Jill passed away last Saturday. She had never been (as long as I had known her anyway) in incredible health, but she certainly hadn't been in any life-threatening danger.
After suffering a stroke in BOTH sides of her brain, the day after Christmas, she spent the remainder of the week in a coma until God took her home come the weekend.
Jill Marie Whitlock
Mother, Teacher, Follower of God
1950-2007
When Momma Jill left us, she left behind a legacy in her children, and BOATLOADS of stories and memories that will be cherished for the rest of our lives. Sadly, she also left behind the financial responsibility of her funeral costs to these three young men.
It is now OUR responsibility as friends (and family) of the Whitlock bros. and as DECENT HUMAN BEINGS to help aid our mates!
There is a day long (1pm-6pm) fundraising event that will be going on THIS SUNDAY, January 6th, at FOREVER TATTOO in Ft. Myers:
15560 McGregor blvd. suite 10
Fort Myers, FL. 33908
phone number to the shop is 239.415.4387
Mark Stewart, the owner of Forever Tattoo and friend of mine, Bishop, and the Whitlock family, is opening his shop for this event... They will be raffling two $100 gift certificates for Tattoos, at only $5 for a ticket, I'm sure that we could all afford 3, 4, even 5 of these tickets. Please remember that you're not investing in tattoos.. your investing the memory of this amazing woman.
Along with the raffle there will be art (from some of the GREATEST local artists) for sale and a bake sale (and seriously... who doesn't enjoy a good brownie at the local bake sale!?!) REMEMBER: 100% of the days sales go STRAIGHT to help Momma Jill and her family with funeral costs, etc. EVERY CENT!
And if all of that wasn't enough to get you in the door: there will also be some surprises at the event, which will remain nameless at this time... but trust me: YOU DO NOT WANT TO MISS IT!!
The approximate cost for the cremation is $2,500 (on the low end) plus the memorial costs, etc. So please, if not for Momma Jill, if not for Kubby, Jables, and Sammitch, do it for me. As a favor.
Please, we do not want the Whitlocks to have to 'settle' in these arrangements, but instead want to help and still be able to bless them.
If you would like to make larger, tax-deductible donations to this event/cause, please contact me at: slim@summitlife.com so that I can get you the information.
Here is a word from Kubby himself:
"I have been flooded with people asking me what they can do to help and if there is anything they can do just let them know so, I am letting you know... You all have asked me what I need and this is it. Please help out my family. Thank you and I love you all. God will also bless you for your help don’t forget that."
If you've taken the time to read this, it means you have a heart. Please re-post this bulletin, so that we can get the word out on this FAST APPROACHING event.
Thank you, and God Bless you.
Peace,
The Slim
Most of you who know me, are also familiar with one, more, or all of the Whitlock brothers: Jacob "Kubby" Whitlock, Jonathan "Jables" Whitlock, and Jesse "Big Sammitch" Whitlock.
Three invaluable friends of mine, who had one of the most precious mothers: Momma Jill.
Rather unexpectadly, Momma Jill passed away last Saturday. She had never been (as long as I had known her anyway) in incredible health, but she certainly hadn't been in any life-threatening danger.
After suffering a stroke in BOTH sides of her brain, the day after Christmas, she spent the remainder of the week in a coma until God took her home come the weekend.
Jill Marie Whitlock
Mother, Teacher, Follower of God
1950-2007
When Momma Jill left us, she left behind a legacy in her children, and BOATLOADS of stories and memories that will be cherished for the rest of our lives. Sadly, she also left behind the financial responsibility of her funeral costs to these three young men.
It is now OUR responsibility as friends (and family) of the Whitlock bros. and as DECENT HUMAN BEINGS to help aid our mates!
There is a day long (1pm-6pm) fundraising event that will be going on THIS SUNDAY, January 6th, at FOREVER TATTOO in Ft. Myers:
15560 McGregor blvd. suite 10
Fort Myers, FL. 33908
phone number to the shop is 239.415.4387
Mark Stewart, the owner of Forever Tattoo and friend of mine, Bishop, and the Whitlock family, is opening his shop for this event... They will be raffling two $100 gift certificates for Tattoos, at only $5 for a ticket, I'm sure that we could all afford 3, 4, even 5 of these tickets. Please remember that you're not investing in tattoos.. your investing the memory of this amazing woman.
Along with the raffle there will be art (from some of the GREATEST local artists) for sale and a bake sale (and seriously... who doesn't enjoy a good brownie at the local bake sale!?!) REMEMBER: 100% of the days sales go STRAIGHT to help Momma Jill and her family with funeral costs, etc. EVERY CENT!
And if all of that wasn't enough to get you in the door: there will also be some surprises at the event, which will remain nameless at this time... but trust me: YOU DO NOT WANT TO MISS IT!!
The approximate cost for the cremation is $2,500 (on the low end) plus the memorial costs, etc. So please, if not for Momma Jill, if not for Kubby, Jables, and Sammitch, do it for me. As a favor.
Please, we do not want the Whitlocks to have to 'settle' in these arrangements, but instead want to help and still be able to bless them.
If you would like to make larger, tax-deductible donations to this event/cause, please contact me at: slim@summitlife.com so that I can get you the information.
Here is a word from Kubby himself:
"I have been flooded with people asking me what they can do to help and if there is anything they can do just let them know so, I am letting you know... You all have asked me what I need and this is it. Please help out my family. Thank you and I love you all. God will also bless you for your help don’t forget that."
If you've taken the time to read this, it means you have a heart. Please re-post this bulletin, so that we can get the word out on this FAST APPROACHING event.
Thank you, and God Bless you.
Peace,
The Slim
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