There is nothing I need that my God won’t provide, and I can’t believe I ever thought otherwise.
what my family thinks I do for a living:
- Relative: So what have you been up to in Nashville for the past year?
- Me: Just playing music mostly
- Relative: That's fun. I wish I would have goofed off in college.
- Me: (speechless)
Going home
I’ve been gone for three weeks now, two of which were spent away from my wife, and I’m ready to be home! I love traveling, but if it’s not a cool city, I can’t spend more than a few days there without getting anxious to be back in Atlanta. Right now, I’m in the car on my way to Nashville from east Texas, and when I get there, it’s on to ATL. Quite a long drive for one night/morning. Times like this make me question what home really is supposed to be, and I’m reminded of Jon Foreman’s Southbound Train. To quote,
“I’m heading home, but I’m not so sure that home is a place you can still get to by train”
I often find myself thinking that one of the greatest things to ever happen to me was leaving my hometown at the age of 18. Not only because it put me in the deep end of the music pool in Nashville Tennessee, but mainly because it uprooted my idea of home. And I certainly don’t want to sound ungrateful for the people and places I grew up with. I think Donald Miller said it best in one of my favorite books of his, Through Painted Deserts,
“everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons,” {Author’s Note, p. x}
In fact, while we’re on the subject, go ahead and do yourself a favor and drive down to your nearest bookstore and read the entire Author’s Note in that book. You’ll end up reading the whole thing. But I digress…
Sometimes I think if I had never moved, home might still only be a place to me. A little patch of dirt on a little speck of dust tumbling through space. What a tragedy that would be. The older I get, the more I (think I) understand that this is just a temporary housing, where the lease is almost up, and I am ever more thankful for my friends and family, as they are the only home on this earth that I ever want to know. And to Christ, in whom our eternal home rests.
Some better shots of the new Mono case to give you a better idea of what it does.
Praise the god who has not dealt with us according to our ways. Praise the king who has delivered us while we were far away
I got this bad boy in the mail today. It’s a hybrid dual soft/hard case for my Les Paul and Telecaster. I’m very excited to wear it out around town, throw it in the backseat, maybe even take it to the airport for a one off. Basically anything short of putting it under a bus or gate checking.
I was a little concerned about how the Les Paul would fit, but after spending some time with it, my mind is a little more at ease. Of course, it won’t protect your guitars like a road case, but the level of comfort this thing provides while toting two guitars on your back is awesome. Not to mention its waterproof. Well, I wouldn’t throw it in a pool, but I wouldn’t be the least bit worried if I got caught in a downpour with it on my back. I’m starting to sound like a commercial, so I’ll stop. But if you’re in the market, definitely give Mono Cases a glance.
Conversation on the road
- Me: you ever been to little rock before?
- Kenley: no, but there are bullet holes in that stop sign
Here’s a random collection of pictures from traveling. I love what I do, and I love the people I get to work with. If you don’t look back every once in a while, you’ll forget how good God has been.
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