Where are your border towns?

"Your from Minneapolis? Yep..Have you heard of peavy park? Yep, and Cockroach park,,,Right on man!" This is the usual exchange that takes place every time I sit by Tom at lunch. He is a 31 year old man who lived in Minneapolis, he played basketball until he was a junior and the he blew out his ankle. On any given day he can point out anyone else in the room and tell how he schooled them on the court when he was younger. I have learned that to get the most out of relationships with the guys in Whiteclay, I need to spend a few lunches letting them tell the things that they are willing to tell me ( a 24 year white boy who apparently is "wet behind the ears" at least thats what they tell me). Sometimes it can feel like a nursing home, what I mean is that for the most part people who eat lunch in whiteclay are usually intoxicated. So even though Tom and I have talked multiple times, he hardly can remember my name. So now I know that Tom loves to talk about basketball and Minneapolis, so now when I sit by Tom at lunch I can bring up the things that I know he loves to talk about. Sometimes talking to intoxicated people can be scary but sometimes when peoples reservations are removed it can be beautiful. I sat by a man at lunch today who I never talked to before, he immediately started telling me how he served in the air force and he used to jump out of planes at 10,000 feet. He couldn't have been more proud. He went on to tell me about his daughter who was a star basketball player, and his face beamed when he talked about her being invited to play in Australia as part of the down under games. Everyone at the table joined in his excitement over his daughter, which eventually turned into a contest to see who could say "Good day mate" with the best Australian accent. Then he went on to tell me about his mom and how she died nine years earlier. Fighting back tears he explained all she had done for him. He said once his mom asked him what he would do when she was gone which he replied, I'm a fighter mom, five years in the air force, I can fight through anything." It was clear he was still fighting and today was a tough day. I feel blessed to be able to share these moments with people. Every day feels like the first day of school. I may sit next to someone who wants to beat me up, or I may sit next to someone who is dying to bear his soul. Whatever happens with the rest of my time here, I thank God for the moments I have been able to share with all my friends in Whiteclay NE.

school Spirit

I am back in Minnesota. I was quickly reminded of what life was like. I have done more activities in the last couple of days then I have done in a long time. This morning is the first time I have been able to be alone, relax and read. I'm reading a really good book called "Jesus wants to save christians" It is about oppression and freedom and the Eucharist. I highly recommend it to everyone. I started my day drinking coffee with the Kinleys and Zach, now I'm sitting in a papason couch (no idea how to spell that) I was wondering if people in the sixties/seventies thought some of the same things I do about christianity (not that I am correct in any of my thinking) . I was thinking specifically about when the bible was taken out of schools. I know that most "christians" were probably all up in arms. I wonder if any were happy, I wonder if any thought that If the bible was now a choice not a tradition that it could make faith more sincere. I wonder if God took the bible out of schools?

A Love Child

To those who have not heard, Lizzie and I are having a baby. At first it put us in decision mode. (to stay or go home) We talked much, I can't say we prayed much, but then again I don't think it's about how much you pray. I had a moment on the big hill out behind our house where I stood quiet and just whispered "God...God....God" not for a specific reason, I just joined with the wind and the trees in there constant praising of our Father. God has opened doors for us to stay.(thank you Father) He has provided us a roof, a vehicle, healthcare, food. I'm ashamed that I need to know that my needs are going to be met before I make a decision, but I pray someday that I will "let the dead bury there own" and just go. We are staying, for how long I couldn't say. We have a plan to go home in April, but I might not even wake up tomorrow so why do I make plans for it? Being a father sounds crazy. Being responsible for a life is a feeling I can't quite describe yet. I have ideas of how to raise a child, but what do I know. I plan out crazy schemes to teach them lessons along the way (not quite like arrested development). I wonder how a man who is as wretched as I am can teach a child to be better than I am. I realize that Christ makes us righteous,therefore no one is better than another, but I, in my humanity judge by outside actions. I wonder if as a father I have the right to judge my child, will I know my childs heart? Will I punish actions done out of love? Will I force my will on my child? Will I act out of a love that keeps no record of wrongs? Will I be patient? Will I be kind? I can only hope to show my child Love. Love that hopefully speaks of who God is.

do blogs need to have a point?

Usually i takes me a few hours to write a blog. Reason being because I am a terrible sinner who thinks more of his pride than anything else. Father forgive me. I am laying on a futon typing on a laptop that has the screen aimed at my fingers to light the keys as I type. Thanksgiving came and went, and America (as it is told) shopped till it dropped. I originally typed a sentence about people changing, but I have erased it because they are not the problem, I am the problem. So I started painting recently... I couldn't tell you why I started but truthfully I am glad I did. You can check it out here http://iwouldnotcallthatart.blogspot.com/ or I have a link on my page under the other people section to your right. I can post my paintings easier than I write a blog because somehow I care more about how people perceive me (Father forgive me) than how people judge my talents-or lack thereof. I have thought a lot recently about the fact the Jesus was homeless. I feel as if I was never told this growing up. If Jesus didn't live to own a house and relax, why do I? or do I ? Hmmmmmm..... I miss lots of things about Minnesota (mainly people), but here I am, a low income white male living on a reservation learning how to teach an AA class. God works in crazy ways. I wish I was able to quiet the selfishness in me that screams for Maxwells with friends, and being able to tell good news in person, early morning coffee with friends, and seeing marriages grow. I'm terribly confused about where I am going with this so I'll call it a night. Grace and peace to you.

Books-Music-People

It's the time of year when people ask what you are thankful for. I will try to answer that question now. I am thankful that God moves people to write music and books that in turn have moved me to change. My views on almost everything have been slowly changing over the last year. Maybe it would be better said that I am starting to believe these views are truth, and in turn it is changing how I live my life.(thanks in part to the Inspired words of others) If I were to be honest about moving to Pine Ridge, at first I was unsure of the exact reason why. Not that I feel it was a bad thing because truthfully alot of my decisions are made with the same mindset. Kind of a "well lets see what happens." If I knew then what I do now I would tell you that I was moving to Pine Ridge to be connected with the suffering of the world. To live a life more like Christ (I have along way to go) To be a missionary to stagnant christians trapped in their american dream suburbia lives. To get away from the empire that hasn't stopped telling me how to live, and begin to learn another way. I am thankful for the people I have met here. I have seen Christ in many ways I never have before. I have seen people taking in others(relatives, mothers, even strangers). People who truly give themselves everyday to greater causes then there own. People who are fighting against the injustices and working for change. I have been so blessed by the people I have met. They make me aware of my selfishness and bring me to pray, "Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven" or as my friend Matt put it "I would diminish that You would increase."

Everybody Dance NOW!

I walked through Whiteclay Nebraska yesterday looking for an A&W Root Beer. (no one carries it, in case you were wondering) Anyway I saw a familiar sight which today stuck with me. Beneath a sign that says A's Auto parts, a group of homeless folks dance to any number of Bob Marley songs that are currently being played. Today the song was "Three little birds". "Don't worry about a thing because every little thing will be alright" blasts from from speakers into the streets of whiteclay and the people were dancing. There was more joy in whiteclay today then usual and the dancing was even more expressive. I wondered to myself if I would ever dance in the streets, if my soul could be stirred to shed my minds inhibitions. Then I started to think back of a concert I recently attended at 555 just steps away from where these folks were dancing. A band called Broken Walls was playing there unique style of worship. As the band played a song about dancing, there was only one man who was. His name is Patrick and tonight he put words into actions, whether it be the alcohol, or his personality, or his unabashed joy for the creator. I couldn't help but wonder what God thinks of a crowd of people sitting in chairs singing about dancing. C.S. Lewis says that "All scriptural images of heaven, are symbolic attempts to describe the indescribable, musical instruments are the thing in this present life which most strongly suggests ecstasy and infinity." No matter what the reason for the dancing that day in Whiteclay, (or during the concert) I wonder if somehow they understand something about heaven that I don't. That they feel God in a way I haven't yet.

Trees Water People

I helped an organization called Trees water people a few weeks back. We were planting trees to provide shade in the summer, and block the wind in the winter. I want to tell you about the process of planting trees on the reservation. After planting some trees and hearing of the struggle to keep trees alive here, it was reminescent of another struggle you may see on the reservation. The first thing you do when planting a tree is dig a hole. You need to break through the surface, depending on the location it may be easy or it may be very hard. After you get down 5 or 6 inches past the surface you reach the firm rocky soil. That's when the real work begins. A pick axe works great to break up the soil and rocks that have settled and hardened from years of being undisturbed. Once the hole is dug you set the tree in, and pack the dirt in around the base in hopes it will with stand the forces of nature to come. At this point most might think were done. The problem here is that it doesn't rain often, and the soil itself is not capable of giving the tree enough nutrients. It needs people to trim and water it. This place has been a mission field for a long time. The people heard the gospel from every different denomination you can think of. Some may have allowed themselves to open up, and talk about those undisturbed areas they keep hidden. Maybe even some have accepted christ, but they still need the nutrients of a loving christian community, to survive from the forces of darkness. God, send people with watering cans here to truly nurture and care for your beloved.