Welcome to my head

Tonight I don’t want to tell my story, but the story of my friend John Stark. John and I were working together with YWAM in LA back in 96. I remember when we found out that the Tragically Hip were going to be playing at the House Of Blues. The Hip were and still are a huge Canadian band. One of those bands who sell out arena’s in under an hour in Canada, but will play a small gig like the House Of Blues in the states.

We bought our tickets way in advance and waited in anticipation for this show. I remember driving to the gig just feeling giddy and totally excited and overwhelmed that we were about to witness one of the greatest shows of our lives. We got to the venue and as we were walking in they asked to see our identification. Well, John was only 20 at the time and since the show was at a bar the age of admittance was 21. Total let down.

So, John finding out that he couldn’t get into the show turned around and sold his ticket for $5 more than he originally bought it for and told us that he was just going to walk around Sunset Blvd. while we went to the show. We went in and caught the opening band and John bought a cigar, walked over to the Viper Room and waited.

The whole time during the opening band I couldn’t stop thinking about John. If you know anything about me you know that I am a feeler and can’t stand to see someone hurting. I would much rather take their hurt than have them go through it. This is a great thing, but can also be a horrible thing. This night, it was a bad thing as I wasn’t enjoying my time at all.

Finally the Hip came on stage. For some reason, during the 1st song I went outside to see if I could find John. I saw him as soon as I left the doors and told him I was bummed that he couldn’t get in. I guess the bouncer who told him he was under age heard us talking and walked over to us. He looked at John and said “I am going to let you in, but if I see you drinking you will be kicked out immediately.” To our shock and amazement we walked inside, saw the Hip and had the night of our lives.

My stories so far, and the stories that I will write each Saturday are amazing, but I don’t think anything will compare to the feeling we had as we walked into the House Of Blues during the second song of the night. Thank you very much House Of Blues guy, you made it for us.

Previous Post Saturday Night At The Concert Hall Part 2

Last week’s post talked about going home after hearing of my dad leaving. I have been thinking some this week about the people who stood beside me and the family during this time. I am not sure if you have ever been in a situation where someone around you, even one of your closest friends is hurting, but it is a hard, uncomfortable and even awkward place to be. Sometimes there are no words to say so we say nothing, or we just back away and separate ourselves totally for fear of not knowing what to do.

I remember when my friend Wayne found out that his wife was leaving and wanted a divorce. It was totally out of the blue, or so it seemed. Wayne and I were best friends, sharing everything, talking about everything and laughing most of the time. When I heard what was going on I was at a loss for words. Would he want my humor, my sympathy, my prayers or would he just want me to stay away. There were many times that I just sat in his room with him watching him cry. We smoked a lot, drank cheap beer and played a lot of video games during that time for lack of knowing what else to do. I am not sure how good of a friend I was to Wayne during those moments, but I know it was hard to know what to do.

I want to thank my friend Dave Laird. Dave, you called me from New Zealand a couple of days after this happened. You were a true friend. I am not really sure of what you said, but I do remember you crying on the phone. Crying for me, for my family and because it broke your heart as well. I will never forget that.

Thank you too to Zach and Amanda, Ben and Mel, John and Jen and the rest of you who walked with me during this. Thanks for letting me be irrational. Thanks for letting me grieve. Thanks for letting me change my mind constantly on hating my dad, loving my dad and just now knowing what to do.

Thanks Gordon for words you shared with me while watching the Supersonics play at the arena. You told met that I should have no regrets about doing a lot for my mom. We were talking about how much it is to fly home and to call all the time and you reminded me that you don’t want to let money detour me and look back regretting that I didn’t spend a few hundred dollars to be with my family.

Thanks Wade for showing me that when Jesus tells us to treat a sinner who doesn’t turn away from his sin as you would a tax collector it means that we love them, as Jesus did, not turn our backs on them.

I am sure there will be many more people to thank as I look back. If I forget you, just remind me. Thanks to you also who have left comments, I look forward to being able to walk with you in your hurt in some way.

Photo by Amy Cunningham

Previous Post My Story Part 2

Previous Post Justice Friday

It all started on June 21, 1997 at the Los Angeles Olympic Colosseum. Rage Against the Machine was opening up for U2 on their Pop Mart Tour. My friend Chris Boeltl and I were volunteering with YWAM in LA and wanted to go to the show, but didn’t have a cent to our name.

We decided to go down to the even even though we had no money and see what would happen. I remember us walking around the venue listening to the sound check and watching thousands upon thousands of people pass us as they walked into the Colosseum. After about 2 hours we saw a lady standing around wearing a black business suit and looking like she had some authority. Chris and I walked up to her and asked her if she had any tickets to the show. She told us that we should come back in an hour, just as RATM came on and she would let us know.

Excited and wanting not to get our hopes up at the same time we walked over to Burger King to get a burger and pass the hour. One hour later we walked over to the same girl and as we were walking she turned to us and handed us 2 free tickets to the show. What? Did this really happen? Yes it did, and it would continue to happen to me dozens and dozens of times over the next 11 years.

My intent for this weekly Saturday evening post is to share with you the experiences and miracles that have happened to me over the years in getting into free shows. Some I have just been curious of and some have been life long dreams come true. I look forward to walking through these memories with you and hope it will be as fun for you as it will be for me. See you next Saturday.

Previous post Schools In For Winter

I have been thinking about blogging on this for a while now and believe that now is the time to start. I am starting to post each Tuesday about my story, specifically the story of the breakdown of my family. I wanted to do this for my own sake, to look back at a monumental time in my life and see how I have come through it. I also want to do it so that I can in some way be an encouragement to others who have had to walk through hard times in their lives.

I have some hesitancy in writing this as I know it will bring up hurts and bad memories for people who are in my family who read my blog, specifically you Amy, mom, Julie and dad but I feel that it could be healing for all of us. I in no way intend to bring up past hurts, but desire to see more healing.

5 years ago this month my dad left my mom for another women in the church. My dad was my hero, and still is in many way’s. I am not sure what happened, but I know that seemingly out of the blue he found himself (put himself) in a bad situation and fell. He couldn’t live with the fact that he had kissed this girl, i believe that is all he did, and so he left. He hopped in the car as did she and they left home and drove till they could not go any farther.

I remember getting the call at 6am in the morning. I knew it was bad news as it was such an early call. Maybe I also knew it was bad news because my only fear in life was that one of my parents would leave the other, but I only thought it would happen as a result of death, not choice. I remember looking at Amy after getting off the phone with my mom, who was completely broken and being in a state of disbelief.

Amy and I still talk today about my actions that preceded that call. I was at my funniest to be honest. I guess that is how I deal with pressure, hurt and devastation, I laugh. My jokes and humor only lasted so long and then reality hit. I think it hit when Amy made a joke and I pounced on her trying to protect my family, I am still deeply sorry for this my Amy. The next day I was on a plane home to Winnipeg feeling lost, hopeless and wondering when I would wake up from this dream. Little did I know that this nightmare would continue for a long long time and at times only get worse.

That is all I am going to write for this week. I am not really sure how I will end these posts, maybe just with a simple Jesus help.

the above pic is me a bit before this all happened at the birth of Emma.