Let Us Know You

Andy Osenga is quickly becoming one of my favorite musicians. What I’m posting about here is one of the big reasons why.

A year or so ago Andy tried this experiment- he created a short album, completely for his fans and distributed it strictly through his website and iTunes. So, that’s not that ground breaking, right? well, there were two catches- first, he did it for FREE. you could donate if you wanted to, but not required. Secondly, it wasn’t just for the fans, it was in part, BY the fans. They contributed stories, letters, ideas for the songs. Andy in turn made it into poetry…but it didn’t stop there. On the last track he offered the online community the opportunity to be on the record. Just record yourself singing a simple melody and send it to him. He then spliced it all together into something wonderful. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve listened to that album, but I know for sure that it was probably the most played of my entire collection for the past year.

Well… He did it again. Yesterday Andy released “Letters to the Editor Vol 2″. Just like the first one he invited ideas for the album and invited people to contribute vocals as well as their instruments. He provided some backing/click/sample tracks to keep you on track and the rest was up to you. And again Andy turned it into something beautiful. The icing on the cake, so to speak, was the subject of the last track- a song titled “Let Us Know You”. Andy writes, “This song was written in response to the overwhelming number of letters I received from people battling depression, numbness, and a general bleakness which barely conceals anger. I understand it, because I recognize it in myself.”

Wow.

After reading those words and hearing the song, I can’t help but be reminded of one of my favorite sites, Post Secret. Everyone is carrying around something, dealing with something, struggling with something. And for me, this song pulls all of that together in an experience that is breathtaking.

So, without further due, I urge you to hop over to Andy’s site, download the album, give a few bucks if you want, and just listen…

my friends have sent me letters
I’ve read them all and then
I tried to make sense of the stories
but I was overwhelmed

so much anger, so much pain
we’ve had to go numb to survive

[chorus]
so I am closing my eyes
and I’m praying for thos in my life
let us feel, let us love
let us be alive, let us know you

my friends have shared their secrets
and I have given mine
the anarchy of what we think
no one will ever find

in the daylight, to our surprise
our secrets are shades of the same

[chorus]

in the beginning was the Word
and the Word was with You
You parted the seas
held up the flame in the night to guide us through
You drew in the sand
dropped the stones from violent hands
heard the cry of the crow
and set Your eyes on a faithless friend

You are who You are, and You are and You were and will be

curse of white suburban worship

When I say the word “Worship”, what pops in your mind? If you’re like me, the first thing that comes to mind is a suburban megachurch on a Saturday night. The worship leader playing the latest Tomlin or Redman tune while the crowd raises their hands to the heavens. Is that worship? Well, yes, I think it is. The thing is though, I don’t think that’s even close to everything. It would be like saying Art is black & white landscape photography of barns in the mid-west. Sure, it’s art, but it’s not the only kind of art there is. In fact it’s a very narrow view of it. Yet instead of exploring the other types of art that are out there, we’re debating on why we photographed the white barn, instead of the red one…or why the door is cropped out of the photo. Do you get what I’m saying?

We’re spending all kinds of time debating on why we didn’t play this song or that or why we can’t have the hymns back. It’s just silly. There’s so much more out there for us to explore, why don’t we seek it out?

I just don’t get it.

I’m a Girly-Man.

I can’t explain it, but over the past few weeks and months I’ve been having these moments. I just get flushed with emotions and my eyes well up with this salty substance that I’ve been told are called “tears”. I quickly wipe them away and try to think about manly things like baseball, dirt, or guns. But no matter how I try to ignore it, it keeps coming back, this feeling of joy, peace, happiness.

Over the past several years of my life I’ve been known to be less than optimistic in most situations. In fact, I’ve been passive-aggressive, pessimistic, and hyper-critical of pretty much everything. Now, I’m not going to even suggest that I’m completely cured of all of this, but I will say that over the past 6-8 months I have begun down the path to setting things right.

So, why the change? Well, I can’t completely explain it, but to say it’s been a journey. Jen and I had a great experience with Radio City in the fall which gave me a new passion and love for people. Then we came home and I got into a small group with a few other guys at church. On top of that, I was given a great job and just have been blessed time and time again for no apparent reason. So, today…I’m sitting on the lawn mower, giving the grass a chop, the sun is shining and I’m thinking “wow, life is good. Thank You God!”

I could go on and on about how much God has done for me, but my words would simply fall short of doing it all justice. So, I’ll leave it at that.

Heart Still Beats

Just sat down to listen to some music today and this song caught my attention. I’ve heard it many times before, but for some reason the lyrics really struck me. I guess it deals with a similar topic that I’ve been dealing with for a while- that no matter what the person looks like, no matter what they’ve been through, no matter what they say or do, they are still human. They still have a heart somewhere inside…and it beats just like mine.

Heart Still Beats
by Brave St Saturn
The girl in the alley kneels with exhaustion
She’s guarded by the skinny guy who limps from some infection
Behind a veil of bleached thin hair her eyes tell a story
Like a photo of Berlin, December 1944
She’s looking for a handout, she’s been high for several weeks now
She’s too far gone for whoring and the money just gave out

And her heart still beats inside
And the blood runs in her veins
A remnant of life remains
Her heart still beats inside

The man finally comes to the door, I’ve seen him several times
He always looks pissed off and his sunglasses stay on
I think he got his biceps and tattoos while in prison
And it doesnt seem to bother him when he says “go to hell”

And his heart still beats inside
The blood runs in his veins
A remnant of life remains
His heart still beats inside

The thought it comes to my mind, to somehow intervene
But it could bring me trouble, and what can I do anyway?
It’s hard to be effective when it happens so often
To see a life unraveling, through drawn venetian blinds
I’m sickened by compassion, I’m stifled by my limitations
Anesthetic apathy, come take the pain away

And my heart still beats inside
The blood runs in my veins
A remnant of life remains
And my heart still beats inside

Oh God, we need you here
We’re sinking fast and we dont care
The evidence is all around me, on both sides of my door
Our hearts beat