At chapel this evening the guest was a music professor from a local university who brought an oboe, clarinet, English horn, soprano sax, alto sax, and flute. While the worship team played, he played different instruments and did riffs off whatever we played, completely unrehearsed.After the worship team had played, the professor played a number of songs on his own as we meditated on the lyrics. Usually I love the sound of the oboe. The film The Mission made me fall in love with its playful timbre. But tonight I was blessed most by the songs played on the flute, especially the first song he did, Lamb of God by Twila Paris.
My mom plays (or played; I don't know if she still picks it up) the flute and I remember hearing songs of hers when I was growing up. It wasn't often. Every now and then she had a piece she would be practicing for church. She also loves Twila Paris' music and it would ring through the house all the time when I was a kid. Hearing both of them - flute and Twila Paris - together, I couldn't help thinking about my mom.
I made sure to tell the professor how much his music blessed me and why. He told me he was glad that God worked through him and to pass on to my mom what happened. I sure will.
* "Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands" - Psalm 100:1 (KJV)
Man, I can't wait to leave behind me the absolute stupidity of this place.
There was a fight in the dorm - first one I've seen in some months - for the stupidest reasons.
A few guys were working out in the bathroom, two doing dips on the sinks and two doing pull-ups using a torn sheet and mop handle suspended form the ceiling. A lieutenant came in and gathered them in the bathroom, but one guy, Hank, said he wasn't using the pull-up bar, just doing dips on the sink - the truth. The lieutenant just took the torn sheet and left them alone.
After the lieutenant left, Temple, one of the guys doing pull-ups, was mad that Hank tried to leave, even though he wasn't involved. Then Temple got mad that Hank talked to the lieutenant. Hank tried to make Temple understand that what he said had no influence on what the lieutenant did. Then it got more heated and Temple started swinging.
Hank is in anger management class right now and I've talked with him a few times about how, as a Christian, I refuse to fight. I think it's affected him because he just put his hands up and backed away during the fight. Temple kept swinging until he realized he was in front of the camera, then he went back to the bathroom yelling insults at Hank trying to get Hank to fight. Hank kept saying. "Chill out. I don't want to fight you," but Temple just kept going.
A few minutes later it finally settled down and the spectators went back to playing dominoes, muttering how weak Hank is for backing down. In my opinion, it proved that Hank was the better man for not allowing a stupid situation end up in a case for both of them. Prison seems to be primal and backwards, very rarely making much sense. I'm just living the best I can until I leave.
"He that fights and runs away will live to fight another day." Demosthenes
I had a great visit today from a couple of friends from my parents' church. They came once last year and we have been writing each other the whole time I've been in prison. It was really cool to see them. I don't get to talk with solid people older than me other than my parents. It's so good to just hang out, talking about life and plans even if it is over a phone through a glass wall.
I told them about all the recent trouble I've had in the dorm and how it's pretty much gone now. They were encouraged about my plans for school and parole, although I'm still not sure how it will come together. But, if I've learned one thing in the past month, it's that God looks after His children.
It has been such a blessing to have friends who continue to keep in contact with me. I love hearing how things are going out there. I was humbled by all the love shown to me through letters and cards on my birthday last week and I pray that God returns it all to everyone in blessings of their own.
For a few years now I have dreamed of moving to the Northwest. All the pictures I've seen and everything I've read make it sound like right up my alley. There are mountains, rivers and coastline pursuits. I've heard that all the creative culture is vibrant and there are many eco-friendly people. All this I've gathered second- or third-hand from people who have visited there, but I've never talked at length with anyone who has lived there - until now.
There's a guy that just moved into the dorm last week who lived in Portland until last year when he moved to Texas. I've been able to talk to him and ask all kinds of questions, and he has told me all kinds of cool stuff about living up there.
Hot springs have pools built around them in the middle of the forest, a two-mile hike from the nearest road. All summer long there is a market each Saturday along a stretch of the Willamette River in Portland what has local crops, crafts and music. The Columbia River is so big it has tides where you walk to islands in the middle that have free range cattle on them. Lots more, too.
I have pretty much made it a goal high on my list to get up there. I don't know if it will be for school, after I graduate or after parole, but I do want to live there at least for a while. Texas is a good place to live, but it seems that the Northwest offers more for the lifestyle that I want to live.
My sleep this morning was abruptly cut short when one of the sergeants woke me up to tell me to meet him in the hallway. There were only two reasons I could think of for why I was called out and neither of them were likely. The first was that I had a disciplinary case. I couldn't remember doing anything worth a case or being confronted by any guards, so that was probably out. The other was that the mailroom had read letters I had sent out about the dorm situation with the rumors and they were going to move me for my safety - a stupid move because it would look far worse if I moved like that.
I groggily put my clothes on and stumbled into the hallway with blank expectations and a lot of anxiety. The sergeant told me to wait in line with some other guys. He called us into a room one by one. My fears were relieved when the first guy came out and said it was a urine test. Ha! I'm probably the least likely guy to fail a urine test, but whatever. It's easy.
So that was my first and lesser birthday gift of the day. The second was an unexpected visit from my mom. I had some friends who were planning to come but wrote to say they wouldn't make it, so I as expecting a normal weekend. What a blessing to be called out for a visit right as I laid down to go back to sleep! I am so grateful for the friends and family who have made the effort to make my birthday and incarceration more enjoyable.
Since moving back into this dorm, I have been trying to figure out how to get back to the dorm I was in while my usual dorm was closed for maintenance. I sent a request to one of the lieutenants, but he has been off for four days and just got back today. Luckily, I was able to talk to him after church tonight. He was a bit busy so he told me to wait for a minute but he brought up my wish to move with the captain. The captain came over to me and asked me to write a request to him and, because the lieutenant said I was a good worker, he would move me at the first chance he got.
Finally all those hours of shower crew have paid off. I work hard because I don't like to see a job unfinished if I have the time to do it. Of course, I have all the time in the world here. I never really expected to get anything out of it, though., especially after getting shot down on the parole recommendations from supervisors. Despite all the crazy stuff of the past couple of weeks, some stuff is falling into place. Now I'm just waiting to move.
