The author of this post is none other than my dear friend Jon Heaps. Jon is a passionately dedicated philosopher, an insightful and enormously creative writer, and a deeply encouraging friend. He becomes more and more fully himself every day, and through his words both spoken and written I see glimmers of Christ. He also has some great tattoos. I am tremendously proud to share his simple reflections with you this evening. Enjoy, as I did:
1) My best friend is the Director of Student Ministries at the church where we both grew up. When I’m in the Bay Area, I like to show up and help out with youth group events. Last night I crashed the High School group. One of the female leaders was out of town, so it was left to JD and I to fill in for her during the small group time. Her small group demographic: a crew of chatty, texting, tittering, squealing, lunatic freshman girls. I though for sure we’d lose control almost instantly. Instead, we had a really in-depth, thoughtful conversation about when it’s important to wean away distractions and try to hear where God is at work in life. These squirrelly little hooligans have their collective head screwed on straight and that’s a small miracle in this place where we live and breath and have our being.
2) The Decemberists’ new album finally marries Colin Meloy’s ridiculously brilliant lyrics with some music that doesn’t make me want to nap for all of eternity. It’s…well, bad ass, really. Here’s a taste of the lyrical brilliance. You’ll have to drop some cabbage to actually hear the brilliance. Oh man, the organ sounds are worth the cash alone.
The Queen: I'm made of bones of the branches the boughs and the bough beating light / Well my feet are the trunks / my head is the canopy / And my fingers extend to the leaves in the eves / And he was a baby abandoned / Intombed in a cradle of clay / And I was a soul who took pity and stole him away / And gave him the form of a faun to inhabit
3) It’s one of those bars that is all rough-hewn wood and gigantic beer selection and once again I’m sipping at a cranberry-and-soda. Someone jokingly offered JD a Cosmo and now he’s sipping at that, because no joke is safe around him. And with our pink drinks in hand, we riff and chat and laugh and enjoy new friends and old. Without even noticing, it seems, we manage to put our finger on why it is we’re such good friends. I’d share it, but I think that off-handed-insight will just remain between him and I. Suffice to say, its simple enough and was always hiding in plain view. Everyone else was playing darts, though we’d be treated to a fine drunken ramble on the way home. Don’t worry, I drove.