New Thoughts: Whether You Like it or Not, You’re a Missionary
I don’t like calling myself a missionary because that makes it weird for everyone else.
I may live in a country that’s foreign to me (Mexico), receive monthly financial support from a generous group of friends and donors, and send out a monthly newsletter update– but that doesn’t make me a missionary.
In fact, I rather hate calling myself a missionary. Some people like it and love including that title in their introductions to strangers. In my humble opinion, you might as well say “Hi, I am going to convert you. Want to be my friend?” or imagine an undercover cop who finally reaches the mafia kingpin only to ruin everything by saying “Hi, I’m an undercover cop. Kill me now.”
I don’t like calling myself a missionary because that makes it weird for everyone else.
What about the person who wants to make movies but can’t because of a major lack of resources? What about the girl who has a dream to become a dancer and train under one of the best instructors in Europe, but needs a little communal boost to get there? What about the dude with a great, game-changing business idea that could really benefit from seed money? What about you? Could you use some help right now?
I don’t like calling myself a missionary because somehow that implies that what I am doing and what I want to do is more important and more “sacred” than what you are doing or pursuing.
Well, the truth is that whether you like it or not, you’re a missionary.
It’s because you have a purpose in life and you have dreams. You’re supposed to do all that you can to fulfill that very thing on your heart and contribute your version of beauty to this broken world.
You have a mission.
You’re a missionary.
Entonces . . . You should be supported in the ways that I am right now. You should be validated and affirmed in ways that only a dedicated community of believers (in you) can. The church missionary budget should allocate some funds to you. You should have access to a list of supporters who have committed themselves to journey with you on your mission and ensure that you reach your God-given pursuit.
“But aren’t missionaries supposed to evangelize and win souls for Jesus?”
I think Jesus was a better friend than he was an “evangelist”. That was His mission. “Winning souls” has very little to do with talk and more to do with being the best, most honest version of you intersecting with that person who simply wants to be whole.
“Missionaries are also the ones who are supposed to be compassionate and help people and villages in need. . . “
. . . and so is every one else. Don’t be dumping the burden (and privilege) of simple care on someone who moves to a different country.
At the end of the day, the term “missionary” is just a label. Maybe it helps some to carry that label to feel distinguished or focused. For others, it helps them to give generously since their money is going towards “holy” work. Still others out there enjoy the fact that they don’t carry such a title since it lets them off the hook.
Well, everything we do is holy and sacred. Every one of us has a responsibility to our fellow man. We all have dreams in and for the world. We’re all “missionaries” because we all have something that we’re supposed to carry out with all our mind, heart, and soul.
Whether you like it or not, you’re a missionary. . . and you need to be supported like one.
More than a Korean Susan Boyle
If you have not seen Sung-Bong Choi’s story, please take a moment NOW to watch this Korea’s Got Talent clip:
I don’t have too many words to say except this: Wow.
We should know by now that the way a person looks has very little to do with the talents that they possess.
Even if you don’t believe in God, this has to be one of the few times you feel compelled to believe in a Divine Justice.
Unfortunately, the world does not operate under a perfect justice–
The rich get richer. The poor get poorer.
Good things happen to evil people. Horrible things happen to great people.
The Yankees win the World Series.
Heidi Montague and Spencer Pratt have fans.
Etc. Etc.
The story and voice of Sung Bong Choi grab me because I am seeing someone who is walking proof that Grace exists. Yes, he has lived an unbelievably heart-wrenching life up to this point, but he has also been given a gift from the Hand of God Himself.
And he is making sure he doesn’t waste it. This Grace is meant to be shared.
Keep singing, Sung Bong Choi. You are obviously loved and you deserve every bit of the Divine Justice bestowed upon you.
What intrigues you about his story and voice?
My son, the 2 yr old advocate for the poor
Every weekday morning, I take my 2 year-old son, Micah, to school. School has been the place where Micah could satisfy his growing social needs while mommy and daddy get some quiet time for a few hours each day. It’s a win-win situation in every sense.
There is a definite routine to our morning trek. We eat breakfast, get dressed, kiss mommy and baby Isla goodbye and head downstairs with the umbrella stroller in my left hand and Micah rested on my right arm. Once downstairs, we say “buenos dias” and “hasta luego” to our building manager, Juan, and then I strap Micah in the stroller… and away we go!
We then say “hola, buenos dias” to about a dozen people on our way to school. There’s Mari, the street-parking guide along with her husband. There’s Gabriel, Juan, and another friend who sells helium-filled balloons. There’s the 3-4 valet parking attendants at the restaurant across the street. Goyo is the guy who sells “super tortas” in front of the bank and then the rest are random people who take notice of Micah in the stroller and flash a friendly smile on their brisk walk to work.
It takes about 20 minutes to walk to school. I say a few more “hola, buenos dias”s to the teachers and receptionists at the school, kiss Micah, tell him I love him and let the teachers whisk him away.
Now when I pick Micah up from school, the routine is repeated but in reverse. However, this time, there is an old couple on the street who I presume to be of indigenous origin by the language that they speak. It’s difficult for me to give money to the poor when I see them on the same exact part of the street during very particular hours, only to not see them there on holidays and off-hours. It seems a little “iffy” but maybe that’s just me.
In any case, I got tired (or guilty, perhaps?) of ignoring them so one day I decided I would have Micah hand them some money from the stroller. The purpose of this was three-fold: 1) a few measly pesos from a child seems to be a more acceptable offering than from a grown man, 2) it’s the cute thing to do, and 3) life lessons at the age of 2 seems about right. The lady with the cup appreciated our small offering, we all shared a smile and proceeded home. I then affirmed Micah in his willingness to share and told him that this is what we’re supposed to do when we see people in need.
The next day, the indigenous couple was in the same spot. Using my “this is iffy” logic, I decided to give them a smile (nothing more) and go our merry way toward home. Besides, we already gave them money– this can’t be a daily thing, can it? As soon as I passed them, my son yells out, “money, daddy! money!” I stopped the stroller, stooped to his level and asked him, “what do you mean son? You think we should give them money?” He says, “yeah.”
I pulled out my wallet, handed him a few pesos and backed up the stroller so that he could deposit the small gift into the lady’s cup again. Their gratitude was once again, very evident. We smiled and headed home.
The next day, the same thing. It’s become very clear that my 2-year-old son is not going to let me just walk by these people who clearly have a need. What I considered a one-time lesson has now become a daily practice. Even if the teacher doesn’t practice what he preaches on a daily basis, the pupil will not let the opportunities pass. Touche, my son, touche.
My dream for my children would be that they would be the Best Versions of Us x 1000. That’s high-level math right there.
It’s no cliche to say that our children often teach us. They are capable of showing us a way of life that is beautiful, generous, loving, and filled with wonder.
One day, our family will make our way back to the suburbs where the streets are swept daily and the vagabonds are met more on TV than in real life. For now, I am grateful that we live in the City where the tension to give and serve is propelled with a daily opportunity. It’s uncomfortable, it’s trying, and it is a test of what we really believe and practice.
I’m thankful that at age 2, Micah gets it. It’s not rocket science, it’s not a judgment call, it’s not a curriculum you study for weeks with a small group; it is a here and now. “Money, Daddy! Money!” You have money, they don’t. It’s simple, isn’t it? Drop it in their cup and love them in simple, real ways… Duh!
Thanks, buddy. You put your daddy to shame but you also make me unbelievably proud.
How ’bout that? My 2 year-old advocate for the poor, folks.
Unto Us a Child is Born (and thus, a truth)
This past Friday, May 6, 2011 my daughter was born weighing just over 6 lbs! She is a tiny bundle of joy and we couldn’t be happier!
As she sleeps, sleeps, sleeps, eats, sleeps, sleeps, poos, sleeps, pees, sleeps, sleeps, eats, and sleeps… one phrase keeps surfacing out of my mouth over and over again.
She’s amazing.
Amazing.
Amazing?!
How can anything that does just about nothing be considered amazing?
I don’t know. This is the mystery and beauty of a new life. Something within me is stirred to a place of wonder, awe, gratitude, peace, giddyness, and joy –
All from staring at a newborn who’s only job description right now is to simply be.
Maybe this is just a little bit too simplistic (or too profound?!) but I think that’s a task in life I need to embrace every once in a while: to just be.
When I am who I am (or as Popeye would say, I Yam What I Yam), I think the universe rejoices.
It’s good to know that even on our days (or seasons) of doing seemingly nothing but eat, sleep, and s—, our mere existence has brought a smile to someone’s face– whether it be our parents, lovers, or God.
I think I know a little more of what it means when I hear that a Father rejoices over me, sings over me, and loves me just as I am. I suppose it takes one to know one.
How is it that such little things can point us to such great truth and beauty?
To Young Fathers (Part II)
[This is Part II of my post from yesterday]
Before we continue on, let me just acknowledge that today is Good Friday. I hope your day is filled with beautiful reflection as you contemplate on the horrible suffering endured by the most innocent man that ever lived.
Thanks for reading on! Here we go:
5. Your Kids Need You More than They Need Your Money
This is a lesson that I’ve seen play out in real life countless times as well as in Adam Sandler’s Click. Your kids don’t need you to become another tired cliche of a dad who works his butt off and in the process misses his kids’ ball games and birthdays, bypasses holidays and stays out late, etc. all in the name of providing for his family. Yes, we need to provide for our families (and let’s do it!) but I think it’s crucial to make a decision early on: are you going to be that dad, or THAT dad? As much as your kids beg you for the latest gaming console and you’ll work to get it for them, they’ll remember and appreciate you for your presence, not your presents. You like that? I think I stole that from some anti-materialism Christmas campaign.
6. Don’t Let Your Kid Get Away with Acting the Fool… Starting NOW
Homie don’t play that! I feel like my wife is super good at this and I am constantly learning from her. You’re tired, you’re out with friends and your kid decides to be a major punk in public and has no problem testing you. You have 2 options which is to 1) Ignore the little fart and continue to have a good time or 2) Teach the kid what it means when daddy shoots a cold, angry stare and says “I will END you.” As you giggle or gasp at option 2, let me just say I have never said this so relax. I’d say the real option 2 is to take that kid aside, explain to them why their behavior is upsetting and proceed with whatever disciplinary act works best for him/her. Time out is our method of choice and we will use it when necessary. Basically, I’m saying don’t let things slide. Fight for your child’s behavior now and reap the benefits later . . . until teenage angst ruins all your hard work and you have to start all over anyway… sigh.
7. Know that Your Kid Has Feelings and Understands Way More than You Think
We don’t give kids enough credit. We sometimes assume that they’re just blobs of adorable goo. What I’m learning very quickly is that they are actually geniuses in tiny bodies filled with poop. Especially as my son has been taking full advantage of his growing abilities as a 2 year old, I’m shocked to learn that he understands about 95% of the things I say to him and actually has reasons for many of his tantrums and outbursts. I’m finding that when you understand and acknowledge his feelings he responds better to correction and special requests. This is crazy to me but it’s true! You gotta use your discretion with this but it helps to make compromises with your kid based on what’s really setting them off. Is he upset because he wants to take the entire train set to aunty’s? Calm him down, let him know you understand they want to do this but explain that there’s not enough space in the bag. Suggest he takes 2 train pieces instead. This works more often than not. Huge!
8. This is the Greatest Job, Role, Responsibility and Privilege You Will Ever Have
Don’t get it twisted! Being a GREAT dad is your life’s calling. It doesn’t matter what else you accomplish or pursue in life– pursue excellence in fatherhood. I personally feel that I could reach for and grab all that the world has for me but if my relationships with my children suck, I have failed miserably. Let’s embrace this role fully and consider it a sacred task. Let’s not repeat the cycle of father wounds and raise a generation of kids who had amazing dads. The world needs good fathers. Hope you’re up for the challenge.
9. Stay in the Game, Finish Well
I don’t think any man starts off fatherhood thinking, “I’m going to be delinquent, abusive, un-understanding, distant, and unaffirming.” Peek into any delivery room and if the dad is present, you’ll see him gazing into his newborn’s eyes, promising the world to her, promising he’ll be there to protect her and love her the best he can. Then life happens, stress takes over, deadlines, indiscretions, divorce, heart-ache, alcohol, bad decisions, good intentions and suddenly, the promises you made in the hospital that first day seem all but broken and destroyed.
Maybe you’re not a young dad and you’re reading this. Maybe you have failed to live up to your promises to your children. I have not lived the life that you lived but something tells me that you can still make things work and you can finish well. Maybe the middle part of your story up until now has not panned out the way you had hoped. You can finish well.
To everyone else: young, old, married, unmarried, with kids, without kids — this is a call for us to rise up and embrace our role as parents in the present and in the future.
I’m excited for the legacy and trend that we can help establish for the near future.
Are you?
To Young Fathers (Part I)
To all young as well as future fathers, this post is for you.
We have a 2.5 year old boy and we’re expecting our first daughter in the next 4 weeks. I am far from being a perfect parent but I have definitely been learning a whole lot over the past couple years. Hope you find this insightful and helpful!
Here is the first half of some things to remember as you approach fatherhood (more later):
1. Your Wife is still Numero Uno
I say this because that fact should remain true throughout your marriage– your wife is priority #1. Some wise friends have warned me that it’s often easy for young couples to lose touch with each other in their first couple years of parenthood. I totally get it now that I have my own kid. It is a whirlwind of change, adjustment, responsibility, and fatigue. Stay in the game, stay focused and make sure that you give it that extra push to love your wife– even when she may be too caught up with baby to love you the way you need to be loved. Which brings me to my next learning…
2. You Don’t Need to Be a Baby, too
It’s easy to complain and feel left out when so much attention is going to your kids. Maybe your wife used to stroke your hair and massage your toes after a long day . . . on the golf course. Maybe she used to brew homemade beer for you and cook you steak every night. Maybe you don’t get any of that anymore because junior is pooping every 5 minutes, requires an exorbitant amount of “organic” milk from mom, and cries for seemingly no reason at the most inopportune times. Well, as a new dad and forever husband your plate is full as well with two roles. You gotta work together with your wife to raise this child and not take on a third role: Big Baby. If there’s anything that the arrival of a child signals in your life, it’s that it is finally time to grow up and start weaning yourself off that big bottle of selfishness.
3. You Are a Student Again
Don’t be a fool and think you’ve figured fatherhood out just because you can change a diaper without your wife’s assistance. You still probably use half a box of baby wipes to do it, rookie. You’re gonna be learning how to be a dad for the rest of your life. I just recently was assigned a reading “assignment” from my wife to learn how to deal with our 2 year-old’s ever-increasing array of tantrums and needs. My initial reaction was “Pshhh! I don’t need to read this! I can figure it out as I go and let my instincts kick in! YOU read it, woman!” which I said to myself in convenient internal monologue form. As I swallowed my pride and let go of my disdain for anything resembling an education, I found the book to be extremely enlightening and it has helped me make incredible in my parenting. Just ask my wife! I am trying to be a good student.
4. Some Things Need to Give
I’m a naturally low-maintenance guy so I don’t have too many strong preferences, which is often a good thing when raising a child. If you’re the type of guy that likes to control and you have an opinion on everything from which brand of diapers you should use to why Yo Gabba Gabba is better than The Wiggles, you may run into a few unnecessary fights with your wife. Let go of your need for control and let your wife take the lead on some of this stuff. Trust me, your manhood will not shrink.
[to be continued tomorrow]
Any thoughts so far?
3 Cups of B.S.?
I remember we had a deep discussion in the 8th grade about lying and we debated whether or not there are times when lying is ok. We came to the conclusion that if we were living in Hitler’s Germany and we were hiding our Jewish neighbors, it would be ok to lie if the Nazi soldiers ever came knocking on our door to ask of their whereabouts. This was the only scenario I could remember from our talk that day.
If the good outweighs the bad by a God-sized margin, I’m all for lying; especially if it means that I can save a life.
I wonder if this is what Greg Mortenson’s logic was as he wrote Three Cups of Tea, a New York Times best seller that is now under fire for allegations of falsehood. The controversy about the validity of many of his accounts, including an alleged kidnapping by the Taliban, has stirred a world-wide outrage by all who have read and felt their lives changed by this book.
[Read the CNN article here to get the lowdown]
Mortenson sold over 3 millions copies of the book in 47 different languages worldwide. To say that this book is pretty influential would be like saying Brad Pitt is just ok-looking. This book is a world-wide sensation and Brad Pitt makes it acceptable for heterosexual men to justify their strange feelings with the phrase “man-crush.”
I have not read the book but fortunately, many anecdotes from this book have been shared in our staff meetings by my friend this past month as a way to inspire and move our leadership. Personally, the timing of this scandal couldn’t be more coincidental and peculiar!
As I ponder the ramifications of this controversy, I have developed my own set of FAQs that I consider my Three Cups of B.S:
1. So he lied (allegedly). What’s the big deal? Authors, journalists, and reporters do this all the time!
I’ve honestly thought this. What really is the big deal? I guess the answers are somewhat obvious. If this was an obscure book on the dusty shelves of a dollar bookstore, nobody would care. The fact that over 3 million people purchased and read this book (along with countless other cheapskates who borrowed their friends’ copies) makes this a lie that is hard to swallow and make go-away. The more people buy into your words and leadership, the greater your need for accountability. Let’s take a line from Spiderman and satisfy my point: “With great power comes great responsibility.”
2. Can’t we just start over and call this a work of Fiction? Re-organize this book’s placement on the Dewey Decimal System? It’s still a good book.
That’s what makes this controversy so difficult. So much of what he’s written seems to be true. . . and if it is not, it has to be true now. Or does it? Through the words and accounts in this book, millions were inspired and felt compelled to give to Mortenson’s non-profit. Much-needed schools were built in Pakistan and Afghanistan as a result of the money that was raised. I wonder: if this much good has been done for a group of people that the world had previously chosen to ignore, how could this scenario possibly be bad? The book accomplished its mission did it not? Read on to the next question.
3. What is this REALLY about?
Money. Plain and simple, this is an issue of money. According to the CNN report, in 2009 Mortenson’s organization only used 41% of the $14 million that was raised to actually build and fund the schools. The disbursement of the rest of the funds seems a little dubious. One would also have to wonder if his books would have sold the number it did if it was a work of fiction.
Bottom Line
If this was a controversy about just a few inaccurate stories and details in the book, I’m personally “ok” with it. Not to say that I don’t believe in honesty and integrity in all works of art! I believe that Mortenson’s book accomplished more good than bad–that people were inspired to examine and change their own lifestyles while broadening their scope of the global need is nothing short of a miracle!
I truly believe that Mortenson’s motives were/are good. He discovered a need and he found a way to creatively fill it, using the only thing he had of worth in this regard: his stories from the ground.
Along the way, if the fund-raising became a little too successful for Mortenson to handle and the transparency and integrity in how all of the money was being spent became a lesser priority, this is unfortunate.
That being said, this is a lesson in honesty and openness, a possible debate on how lies have the potential to perform good (and if this is ultimately “ok”), and a possible example of how money corrupts. I say possible because Greg Mortenson is still innocent until proven guilty. We have to give him that much.
Whether this is relevant for our discussion now or not, I want to say for the record: if I was housing a family of Jews in my home as they run from the Nazis, I would lie my butt off to protect this family. In fact, I would do more. Is this how desperately Greg felt the need to assist these families in Afghanistan and Pakistan? Who knows . . .
Throw a Party. A Prayer Party.
My brother and hero Dave Gibbons is in town with a group of amazing men who have devoted their lives to making a difference in this world.
We spent our first night together pigging out to some tacos, churros, and hot chocolate.
We then spent time sharing our stories and listening to each other in our cafe.
We ended the night with a party. A prayer party.
That is correct, son! We were gettin’ down and dirty, wet and wild, boogeyin’ to the groovy beats of … love-rooted prayer for one another.
I’m not a religious person and I wouldn’t speak of such things if it was just a bunch of fluff . . . but this was good. It was a blast. It was warm. It was life-changing. It was real.
Don’t know how much you get to pray but I have a feeling your life would be different if you found a group of friends that you could do this with some day. . . and do it regularly. . . wherever you go.
I think preaching and singing can get sort of weird outside of the right context.
But prayer? Ain’t nothing wrong with prayer. Let’s face it! We could all use a little more prayer in our lives.
So how ’bout you host a Prayer Party the next time you want an excuse to get together with friends? Surround that time with good food, music and some booze if you had a rough week . . . but take turns laying hands on each other and praying with insight before you call it a night.
Trust me. You’ll be glad you did!
Let’s have a prayer party right HERE. How can this blog community pray for you? Anything goes as long as you’re comfortable sharing it!
Putting Heaven on Hold
There was snow in Orange County, CA this past weekend which, on one hand, is amazing– it’s a Christmas miracle in April! On the other hand, this tells us that we’re all going to die very, very soon. Snow in California in the middle of spring is NOT normal. The apocalypse is upon us! Hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wife and hide yo’ husband!
The weather is funkalicious all around the world, there is increasing political and civil unrest in the Middle East, the global economy is in the crapper, our government is brain-dead…. and our pets’ HEADS are falling off! Japan, Haiti, Charlie Sheen, wars, rumors of wars… did I mention the weather is funky? These are all tell-tale (prophetic) signs that our world is coming to an end. Our current hell on earth signals the need for and imminence of a place we all call heaven.
For those of us who believe there’s a heaven and with confidence believe we are going there upon death, this question may start looming now with any talk of the end of time: are you ready for heaven?
I believe the answer is supposed to be “YES! Of course! Time to go home and meet my maker!” but if we’re honest (and I’m being honest here) we are not ready to go.
The only people who are absolutely ready for heaven are those who are in some form of deep pain, suffering, and/or loneliness.
The rest of us are not ready to go because frankly, we have too much to lose. Career, car, HD TV, iPad, trophy wife, dream guy, degree . . . and the list goes on.
Isn’t that crazy? Is this what we are putting heaven on hold for?
Hold on a minute though. Before you go on feeling really bad about everything, let me put on the brakes and propose this:
Maybe we are not ready to go to heaven because we’re supposed to try and bring heaven to earth right now.
Not in a weird cult-ish way.
In a real and loving way. In simple as well as in large, audacious ways. In the form of beauty and goodness. With generosity and kindness. With radical sacrifice and selflessness.
I think since the beginning of time, hell has existed on earth in the form of evil and tragedy in order to see what man-kind would do to counter it. Instead of bringing elements of heaven to battle the darkness, man has continuously wasted time by pursuing his personal heaven on earth (gotta get mine, baby!) while blaming God for being lazy, malevolent, impotent and/or non-existent with the world’s most terrible issues.
Maybe God wants us to sort through the mess and pursue heaven on earth instead of complaining or keeping ourselves busy and distracted with non-celestial substitutes. Think Lakers coach Phil Jackson — we all want him to call a time-out but he’s thinking big picture so he lets his team play it through and get it right.
There is no time-out in life. We each get one shot to make it right and as much as we tend and want to view heaven, earth and hell trichotomously, they have a way with squeezing into the same room together. If they are indeed in the same room, who do we give the microphone to?
Enough analogies for today. This is a straight-up topic.
Earth carries the potential for heaven or hell. While we are alive, we can put heaven on hold or unleash its beauty and practice for the real thing right now.
We are not ready for heaven because we have work left to do.
Are you ready?
On Humility
Humility often means that you agree with those who think the world of you.
That’s right. When someone thinks you’re awesome or you are great at something, you can be humble and agree with them.
“Hey man, you’re a pretty sick air hockey player.”
“Oh thanks. What can I say? That is a talent I do possess!”
But for some, our first instinct is to deflect, avoid and karate chop anything positive that comes our way because if we accept it too readily then we may come across as arrogant… or so we think. [Side note: One of the few perks of being an Asian person is that you can make martial arts references in your writing without worrying about a public outcry. I'm sorry but I'm going to take advantage of whatever "perks" I can get, homies. Hi-YAHHH!]
I don’t assume I have this humility thing down but the little I know about it tells me that my pain and inner mess is a big part of the equation. Anytime I begin to think that I’m hot stuff (in a bad way), all I have to do is remember that deep down, I’m a mess. The good news is that the process doesn’t end there. Yes, I’m a mess but this brokenness provides me the opportunity to get to know the real me and then get over myself (in a good way).
A person who takes compliments well is a person who is over his/her own hype or lack there-of.
“Humility does not mean thinking less of yourself than of other people, nor does it mean having a low opinion of your own gifts. It means freedom from thinking about yourself at all.” ~William Temple
So may we be free of preoccupation with self (positive and negative) while at the same time, being able to accept the words of truth that others offer us when they recognize the beauty we contribute to the world. . . one air hockey goal at a time.
Do you struggle with humility? Have you thought about it in these terms before?
Dear Dad (a letter to Charlie Sheen from the future)
Dear Dad,
This is your son and I’m writing to you from the future using my iPad 27. You think the iPad 2 was cool, wait till you check this baby out; the hologram cornea display is a thing of beauty! They also finally added Flash to the browsing experience after holding out for all those decades. It’s pretty sweet, especially when I want to go retro and check out web sites. You should also know that it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion that Steve Jobs is in fact the anti-Christ… especially because he’s still alive.
I just want to say that despite what many have told me over the years, I still think you were a pretty swell dad. I know we never talked that much or saw each other as much as we would have liked to but I always looked up to you and you were always fun. You helped define what a winner is for me and I live by your words and example to this day.
I came across this feature article about you recently that was a retrospective on the year 2011. I have vague memories of that time… like how mom actually changed my diapers with her own hands before the iChange app changed everything for mothers everywhere. Anyhow, the article mentions that this was the year everything changed for you. I guess you got fired from a TV job that paid you $2 million per episode (funny how that was a lot of money back then!) and then you started this crazy country-wide, sold-out tour shortly after. This was not before you became one of the fastest twitter users to reach 3 million followers and the nation became obsessed with all things Charlie Sheen. You were a major star! So proud of you, dad!
The article also mentions that you were America’s favorite train wreck in 2011. What is that all about? Your “years of drug use and soliciting prostitutes caught up” to you, as well as the “many instances of violence and spousal abuse.” Apparently you were spinning out of control and the world was simply waiting for you to “crash and burn (or die?) so that they could move on to the next disaster in a body.”
Either I forgot about all of this or I just never knew. Totally crazy to think that you ever went through that or that you were ever that guy.
I don’t know what exactly happened but the article mentions that your life made a dramatic turn for the best in the next few years. I think this is when you made a conscious decision to lay low and stay out of the public spotlight for a while. Mom tells me that you received help by admitting to her you had a problem and enlisting in a variety of detox and counseling programs. Maybe this is when I started to see you around a little bit more along with the many new uncles that you started hanging with. They were super cool guys and I remember thinking that you seemed different (in good ways) after you met them.
I guess you were a mess back then but the only version of you I remember is the one that showed up at the moments that mattered to me– including my high school graduation when you told me you loved me and that you were proud of me. I know you were a busy guy and you had to spend time with my other brothers and sisters that lived in different cities with their moms but I saw that you were trying and I appreciated that a ton. I see now how rare a loving father is and I’m forever grateful that you were around when it counted.
I love what you stood for in your later years as an actor and activist. You were quite the motivational speaker and you helped “screw-ups” get back on their feet. You showed me that mistakes are ok as long as you work towards righting the wrongs. You showed me that second chances are precious but available to anyone who is wiling to give life another fair go.
Just wanted to write you to tell you I love you and that I miss you. Wish you were still around.
It’s crazy but I just met my first grand-kid the other day. His name is David Carlos Estevez and he has your eyes.
You’ll be proud to know that in the midst of my own hang-ups and let-downs, I think I turned out okay and I’m someone you’d probably call a “winner.” Thanks, dad.
Love,
Your son
My Heroes: Kobe Bryant and Bono. Michelle Kwan, not really.
I don’t get star-struck very often. This is probably because I rarely see a celebrity in person. One time I ran into Chuck Finley in San Francisco but seeing as how you’re going to need to Google him before you’re impressed, he doesn’t really count.
However, I must mention the time I ran into Michelle Kwan. This one counts. She’s a world-class figure skater and I think she’s won multiple gold-medals and such. She is arguably the most decorated figure skater in U.S. history and in her hey-day, she was one of the most debated girls to enter the “hot or not” conversation amongst teens. (I was above all that non-sense but if you were to ask me now, I would give you a resounding “no.” But I digress.)
I ran into Michelle Kwan late in my high school years at the local mall near my house. I was completely shocked to see her walking out of this obscure, unimpressive shopping center with her mom. I was by myself but I mustered enough courage to approach her and ask her this profound and probing question:
“Are you Michelle Kwan?”
To which she replied, “Yes.”
It’s really her! Wow! My first official celebrity encounter! Gotta keep this conversation going! What do we talk about?
I managed to offer a “huh, huh… Hey…” followed by a pathetic grin that apparently let Michelle know I was a complete and utter loser. She rolled her eyes ever so slightly, her mother wore a look of cliched amusement, and they both proceeded to walk right past me. I continued to face the same direction, trying to figure out what just happened. I guess I was star struck and it got the best of me.
I felt like such a fool. I hate Michelle Kwan.
This is why I am preparing myself for future celebrity encounters but all that matters really are 2 people. My heroes.
1. Kobe Bryant
Why I want to meet him: He’s been my favorite basketball player since 1998, his second year in the NBA. He exemplifies excellence, hard work, determination, drive and longevity. He has overcome a massive scandal to continue to build on an all-time-great career and I have witnessed him grow as a person and leader. I understand that there are many Kobe haters who find it way too easy to take their jabs at him but I identify with him in many mysterious ways.
What I would say in our first encounter: Option 1) “Kobe, you have no idea what you mean to me” (creepy); Option 2) “Kobe, my man! How’s your family? (who says that on their first encounter?); Option 3) “Hey Kobe. I love you.” (there’s no way around this)
What type of relationship I would like to have with him: I’ve always said that I’d like to be his spiritual advisor slash best friend. Plus, I’d love to enter 2-on-2 tournaments with him and ride his coattails to championships. That’s pretty much what Luke Walton does year after year, right?
2. Bono
Why I want to meet him: He’s basically who I want to be “when I grow up.” He’s the front man for one of the world’s greatest rock bands of all time, he uses his large platform to lift up the marginalized and the voiceless, and he is one of the most unassuming examples of Jesus I have ever seen on earth. (Insert judgmental outcries here)
What I would say in our first encounter: Option 1) “Hey Paul!” ; Option 2) “Oh my gosh.” ; Option 3) “I have waited all my life to meet you! Do you have time for a cup of coffee or beer? It’s on me!” (how could he refuse?)
What type of relationship I would like to have with him: It really doesn’t matter. I’ll take any of the following options: Roadie, Gopher, Caddy, Disciple, Driver, or Sunglass Shiner. I would take any chance I get to become his friend and if that sounds pathetic to you, you’re right!
These are 2 of my heroes. Who are yours?
Viewing Life in Seasons Can Save Your Life
I’m not a life coach or a Tony Robbins type but I do see that part of my role here on this earth may be to help guide and shape young leaders while encouraging older generations with new takes on “old” issues.
One of the key lessons I have picked up in the last 5 years is this whole idea of viewing life in seasons.
Too many times, we feel that the lot we have been given or chosen is a prison (or worse yet, a death) sentence.
This is not true because life is lived in seasons:
That uninspiring job you’re stuck in can change.
The feeling that your life is over now that you have kids is a lie.
The hell that you are going through this moment will pass.
This too shall pass.
Academic probation is not the same thing as lethal injection.
You will find employment.
You will be able to love again. Trust again. Live again.
This is not quite what you pictured but it’s ok because it’s not forever.
You are going home… soon.
Things change. People change. Seasons change.
The Cubs will win the World Series one day….Maybe not. But hope lives. You have the God-given right and ability to choose hope.
Whether you are enduring the harsh cold of winter or anticipating the mild and pleasant sunshine of spring, it is true that your life is lived in seasons.
Endure. Enjoy. Engage.
First World Problems
Last week, I came across this brilliant post over at reddit.com on First World Problems– a phrase I love because I feel it’s a euphemism for “complaints that make us sound like dumb, spoiled brats.”
According to the site:
If it’s a problem you can only have if you have money, we’ll feel bad for you for having the problem, and then feel guilty for having enough money to have the problem.
Let me give you some examples in case you’re against clicking on links:
“My HD TV takes too long to turn on.”
“The 3G connection on my iPad 2 was spotty on the train so I had to pause my Netflix movie for 2 minutes.”
“Ran out of brewed coffee. Had to make myself instant.”
“My iPhone won’t let me upload pictures directly to Facebook right now. So frustrating!”
“I ordered my steak medium rare and this is clearly medium.”
“Google chrome isn’t working so I had to use Safari to check my email.”
“The water pressure in my shower dropped last night so I had to draw myself a bath instead. It was scalding hot. And the jets wouldn’t work.”
I find these to be hilarious but sadly true. I don’t know about you but I am reminded of how incredibly blessed and rich I am, especially in comparison to some of the real problems and hardships that most of the world have to deal with. Of course, most of us get that “First World Problems” are not actually problems at all. So then the question becomes, how do we turn these so-called “issues and problems” into a grander perspective that allows us to see and respond to the needs around us?
I can laugh now but it’s because I have made similar complaints in the past, and will probably continue to moan about other so-called problems that my brothers in Third World areas would roll their eyes at.
What about you? What are some common “First World Problems” that you run into regularly?
Note to America: Please Don’t Take These Things for Granted
**A clarification on my title for today: this is specifically addressed to the U.S. and A (Borat reference), and even more specifically, to Southern California. In any case, this post is applicable to anybody.**
this is one lucky dude
By the time you read this, I am on a plane back to Mexico City with my family. Our next trip back to the States will be early this fall and I will be a father of 2 at that point. In any case, I realize that there are many things we take for granted when we deem them normal. Most things that we enjoy are not normal. Unless you live in another country for an extended period of time, you will never know this so I thought I’d help some of you out and ask you to take time today to not take these things for granted:
- Speaking in your mother tongue: whether it’s English, Spanish, Korean, Chinese, Vietnamese, or Hindi, chances are that you are able to speak your language on a regular basis and get around. This is due to the plethora of ethnic enclaves that exist, especially in Southern California. It felt good to be back and not have to work out every single word in my mind before I speak. My Spanish sucks so it was nice to just let my tongue hang out and marinade in English for a little bit. And that was a weird sentence but I’m gonna keep it.
- In-N-Out: This is a no-brainer. You can talk about 5 Guys and other burger joints all you want but In-N-Out takes the cake. Don’t be a fool. Every time you take a bite out of this patty from heaven, thank the Lord that you can have this any time you want, take a sip of that strawberry shake and pour one for the homies.
- The Staring is Rude cultural rule: This is something that almost none of you think about but it is one of the things I appreciate so incredibly much now in California. Remember when you were a kid, your mom would constantly knock you upside the head and say “hey! it’s not nice to stare! stop it!” That’s good training and makes for a much more pleasant walk around town when you’re older and much more self-conscious as it is. We get stared at every where we go in Mexico City, mostly because we stick out like sore yellow thumbs but also because it’s not considered rude to stare. Appreciate this, people. Please!
- Diversity:Unless you have a copy of Mein Kampf lying around in your house or your wardrobe of choice includes a pointy white hood, this is something that you appreciate as well about Southern California and many other parts of the country. All of our lives are richer because of the intersection of so many different cultures, languages, foods, and lifestyles. I currently live in a very un-international, major city (relatively speaking) and every so often, I get withdrawal symptoms. Which means, I start itching for a puff out of the ol’ bong of fun and fellowship.
- Law Enforcement: This one may feel debatable to some of you since you feel like the Po-Po’s are always out to get you but trust me, you would rather have that than a system that protects just about nobody. Our friends here told us a story one time of a lady who was getting beat by her husband on a regular basis. She was so fed up, she went to the police station to finally report her husband and find some assistance but the cops came to her with this reply: “come back to us when you are dead.” Translation: “you’re still alive, ain’t ya? you’re not our problem… yet.” This type of law “enforcement” is common all around the world. So the next time you get pulled over for speeding, try thanking the man for protecting the streets from dangers such as yourself.
- Nets on Basketball Hoops: My current city is very well-developed and modern but for some reason, it is rare to find courts with nets. I miss the sound of the “swish” on my sweet jump shots but for now, the sound of nothing will suffice.
I hope you found this post hopeful and on our behalf, I hope you have a little more appreciation for these things.
What are some things that YOU try not to take for granted and why?
Tiny Sparkles in a Sea of Sadness
The news reports of the devastation in Japan keep pouring in and continue to flood media outlets and social media platforms of all kinds.
I was reminded this week of how much we need to to share in the Japanese sadness while valuing and honoring life, even as we hear of such mind-numbing numbers, statistics and horror stories.
However, in the midst of such darkness and sorrow, there are beautiful things taking place. Incredible accounts of valor and sacrifice that are as heart-wrenching as they are inspiring. Amazing miracles in a time when nothing good seems to be happening. Tiny sparkles in a sea of sadness.
Did you hear about the four-month old baby who was found virtually unscathed, days after she was snatched from her parents’ grasp by the tsunami?
Or consider the story of the 60 year old man and 70 year old woman, both of whom have separate accounts of how they survived when the rest of their village was swept away completely. The man survived by clinging on to his floating roof top for 2 whole days. (Read about all three accounts here)
Perhaps the most heroic and inspiring occurrence would be that of the 50 workers at a nuclear plant (Fukushima Daiichi) who have chosen to remain (while 800 of their peers had been evacuated), in order to work towards preventing a meltdown and the ensuing massive loss of life that would inevitably follow. They know fully well that this could potentially be a suicide mission yet they are putting their lives on the line for their country. They are choosing this. Real-life heroes in real-time.
There is no greater love than when we lay our lives down for our friends.
Some of us may have heard this before and now we are actually seeing it.
Telling these stories of miracles and sacrifice will not bring the thousands we have lost back to life. This is a fact. But we bring light into darkness when we highlight the moments of intense beauty and selflessness that surface in the face of the most horrible tragedies. We saw it in catastrophes like 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina in the U.S., and now we see it in Japan.
Today, I am encouraged because I am reminded that miracles happen every day and there is hope within the madness. Don’t get me wrong. We mourn the immeasurable loss and we validate the immense sorrow with our deepest of sympathies. Let’s do that.
But let’s also recognize beauty when it surfaces and let it sparkle and shine.
What are some other stories of beauty, miracles and sacrifice in Japan you’re seeing in the news feed today? Please post the links below in the comments so that we can all share in these sparkles of light!
We Are All Responsible – some thoughts on Alexandra
It shocks me every time I come across racism. I can relate to Madonna when she sings about being “touched for the very first time” granted she is talking about something completely different in the song. I, like a racist-rant virgin, am touched in a very negative way for the first time, every time.
The year is 2011 so one would think that after all that our country (the grand ol’ US and A!) has been through, we’d be a little more educated, a little more understanding and a little less racist. This is not the case. Yes, we are progressive and on the cutting edge but that doesn’t stop one from carrying an iPhone in one hand and still slant-eye gesturing someone with the other. Painfully sad and deeply upsetting to say the least.
Some of my friends and I were shooting some recent stories and examples of racism via twitter this past weekend and right on cue, this video surfaces out of UCLA. Most of you have probably seen it by now but in case you haven’t or you need a refresher, take a look below. May I present to you, Alexandra:
Lucky for you, I am not about to unleash my wrathful thoughts on racism here on this platform. I think enough of that has been done and will continue to be done on the youtube page as well as in private conversations. All I want to do is offer some observations laced with some opinion and hope for a good discussion afterward.
Let me start off by saying I feel sorry for Alexandra. I really do. I think the poor girl was just trying to be funny, amusing, and provocative but everything just came across a bit racist, ignorant, and dumb (and by “a bit” I mean VERY). Her insensitive and inane comments regarding what’s happening in Japan were distasteful to say the least. I wonder what life on campus is/will be like for her, if she’ll even be able to continue her education at UCLA, and if her life will ever be the same. If she indeed is racist, she chose the wrong place to go to school. If you’re allergic to peanuts, do you go work for Planters?
I wouldn’t be surprised if she feels a little bad about this given the overwhelmingly angry response she is getting from the public– including death threats. I just don’t know what else she could have expected though. My man Antoine Dodson said it best: “You are dumb. You are really dumb. Fa’ real!”
The unfortunate thing that happens with things like these is that the conversation quickly becomes an “us against them” thing. In this instance, I suppose it’s “The Angry Asians vs. The Racist Blonds.” I don’t know if that’s necessarily fair nor helpful.
I say this because I love my white folks with all my heart. Some of my favorite people in the world and best friends are white. My favorite foods, actors, musicians, leaders and clothing stores are “white.” As much as I hate to admit it, Brad Pitt is one good looking guy and my wife has every right to comment on that fact– as long as she reminds me she loves me more. I love Conan O’Brien, flannel shirts and cardigans, In N Out, and Blake Griffin (he sorta counts, right?).
What is my point? I am American. My parents may have immigrated from South Korea but “this land belongs to you and me.”
My friendships remind me that one Alexandra does not merit a generalization against an entire race of people.
To Alexandra and those like her: for every Asian you encounter with bad manners and annoying accents, you will meet plenty more who don’t fit your awful picture of who we all are. I think I’m pretty fly for a non-white guy. Please, think before you speak, diversify your friendships, try a little kimchi, and cover up when filming a video that’s about to go viral. By the way, it’s not too late– you can make things right but it will take some time. Hope you’re game.
To my Asian folk, how we respond to things like this will either perpetuate the racism issue or help solve it. We hold incredible responsibility in our hands as well.
A CHALLENGE
Finally, if there are any Asian UCLA students who come across this blog entry, I wonder what it would do to Alexandra’s world if you found out where she lived, not so that you could meet her face with a fist, but rather to invite her out to a lunch conversation? That may sound crazy but I think crazy issues require crazy solutions. I challenge you with this.
What do you guys think? Am I being too calm about this or is what I am saying resonating with some of you?
This is an issue we all have to work together toward resolving, whether your hair is blond or your eyes are small (like mine).
my joy in obscurity
Last year, when i left my dream job of working at Newsong Church as the guy who gets to do music full-time, i knew there was something else in store for me but i also had an inkling that it woudn’t be exactly what I envision or picture. I had this fantasy that one of my songs I had previously written would get picked up by a major artist, movie or TV show (like Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill, or Sports Center) and that through the life-time royalties I receive, i’d be able to travel the world with my family and never worry about money in the bank again. Never mind the technicalities of this type of thing; it’s just fun to think about, no?
I guess I got one thing right. Ever since I left my job, I literally haven’t had to worry about money in the bank. I’m experiencing miracles every month by receiving cash from random, unexpected sources while being backed by a group of supporters who believe in us and the life we’re trying to live in Mexico City. Every time I feel a little antsy about money and start getting just a tiny bit stressed about how we’re going to pay for this or that, I am left feeling ashamed a little later for ever doubting. I think God has been trying to drive a point home to me time and time again: my life is in His hands. What a great place to be!
This post, however, is not about money (although I will definitely make future posts on this topic) but rather it is about what I feel we’re really down here in Mexico City for. I had a conversation not too long ago about the whole idea of living overseas and how it seems to be over-dramatized, over-glorified and over-publicized, especially within the church context. Though this may be true at times, what I am experiencing here is rather to the contrary… and I couldn’t be happier.
We talk a lot about how “our identity is not in what we do but in who we are” and never has that saying been tested more than in my time here. I feel that my identity is being shaped constantly through what I feel is a season of obscurity, anonymity and irrelevance. Though this sounds incredibly depressing and sad, I honestly say this with great joy! Over here, I’m not known as the music guy, justice dude, laker fanatic or the whatever guy. I have no label or classification. I’m just DK. I’m one of the guys that show up every day to paint, install dry wall, prime, sand, clean and install fencing at The Well trafficking safehouse or Cafe NEO– our new space in Coyoacan. I’m a family man, doing all I can to love and take care of my pregnant wife and suddenly hyper-active 2 year old kid. I’m a friend, trying my best to support and encourage my other friends here in Mexico City who have been at this for far longer than I have. I’m a flawed human being, in need of constant work on my character.
There is no glitz, glamor, or glory in what we are doing right now. I don’t think extended manual labor was ever in my picture of what we would do down here but it’s been great. It’s actually been… fun.
I think the greatest thing that accounts for this joy and perspective is the end-picture that I see. I am driven by a love and desire to set things up for greater change to take place. Though it might be way more fun to report back with stories of busting up sex trafficking rings and child rescues with guns a blazing, for now I am humbled and honored that I get to set up and build the safehouse where these girls will find healing. I find “glory” in being the best human being and agent of change I can be without the evening news doing a special on our work or people tweeting about me. I find great satisfaction in being a more-than available husband and father to my wife and kid.
I read a Malcolm Gladwell book that included a quote which I will paraphrase: “hard work is a prison sentence only when it lacks meaning.” How very true. I can take joy and pleasure in whatever it is I do because I find great meaning in the labor. We are building towards life-transformation and a better future. I’m honored to be a part of a process that also helps shape me.
I will admit though that at times this road has felt lonely and it hasn’t been an easy journey. There have been times where I have felt ignored or misunderstood in times of my greatest need and darkness, as well as in times of some great joys. Any time you’re a part of something that requires a pioneering spirit of sorts, it is easy to get into seasons of feeling alone and isolated. Thank God that this isn’t necessarily true!
Francis Chan is a very respected leader around the world and he recently made a decision to step down from a major position of influence to seek out what may be next for him and his family. His decision was met by a great deal of scrutiny as well as support from around the country. It seems many are waiting to see what becomes of him. In one of the interviews I watched, he mentioned something about his impression that perhaps God was calling him into a season/life of greater obscurity. Meaning, he would become “less-famous” in the name of serving in a more quiet capacity, doing what he feels is needed in the greater Kingdom picture. I love that and it has definitely given more validity to the things I’m experiencing and learning right now.
I still have a ways to go in my own journey of the heart. I never want to share these things as an expert or as a person who has arrived in this mode of living or thinking. I never want to discount the many beautiful things that are going on around the world and especially back home in the States. I am not a critic of fame nor am i cynical of those who operate over very large platforms and audiences. I believe these are actually gifts, and when employed with love and humility, I believe that “relevance” in terms of being “popular” can be a very good and powerful thing.
For now, I am grateful for the things I get to do every day– things that are very normal, sometimes-tedious, and un-celebrated. It is a privilege to be here in Mexico City. It is an honor to be a husband to Sadie and a dad to Micah. I relish the challenge of being a good friend and neighbor. I am thankful to be a fighter of freedom for those exploited against their will.
thank you for reading! this is part of me, in the flesh…
dk
Paying Dues vs. Paid Dues
I talked about this with a friend a little while ago regarding the phrase “paying my dues.” I think this is a tricky thing to say because it’s loaded with many different angles but I do believe that there’s a difference between saying “I am paying my dues” and “I have paid my dues.”
On one hand, i think “i am paying my dues” is a great phrase to center on because it usually means:
- I’m working hard at something.
- I believe that “No pain, no gain” is not just a mantra for masochists but rather a slogan for success– whatever one’s definition of success may be.
- I recognize that the current labor and struggle is momentary (hopefully) and necessary.
- I have a goal in mind and the hard work is simply a means toward an end
I like this tweet I saw the other day from someone who said something to the extent of: “Not every seed in the garden will grow but I keep planting anyway.” That’s good stuff.
You can disagree if you want but I believe that there’s a completely different thing at play here when I say “I have paid my dues” because it usually implies that:
- I have a sense of entitlement to whatever it is I’m after. I deserve THIS.
- I have arrived and should not have to work for anything… or at least not as hard anymore.
- I have lost sight of the age-old wisdom that guided me all these years: “it’s not about the destination– it’s about the journey.”
- This bitterness I feel is warranted because the world should pay me back for all the good I did for her.
- I have a hard time being happy for those around me who have seemingly worked less than I have and yet somehow achieved more. (This is called jealousy, right? It is also called “please get over yourself.” We see this a lot during contract negotiations for major sports stars)
I suppose my point is that we (should) never stop working, never stop trying, never stop learning. The saddest picture of retirement for me is that of a man in his 70′s (having paid his dues) with all of his trophies, degrees, and plaques on the wall while he sits glued to the TV, every single moment of every single day until the day he breathes his last.
The truth is that every achievement, every dollar, and every acquisition is actually a gift.
No matter how hard some of us work, the money may never equal that of some of our more well-to-do friends.
No matter how many hours you put into something, there will always be someone or something better at what you do.
No matter how many “dues” we have paid… to each his own.
We all walk our own path and we set our own markers for success. What matters is that we are paying our dues toward something we believe in . . . and in the end, whether the pay-off is fair, deficient, abundant or non-existent– at least, we have given it a fair go. And we continue and we keep on.
Thoughts? Do you see the distinction between PAYING and PAID dues?
Homeless Man with a Golden Voice gets a Second Chance
We all need to be reminded that amazing second chance stories are possible. Ted Williams is a man who is living a new dream thanks to a new opportunity that came about through a viral video on the internet.
Read this story on ESPN. Here’s an excerpt:
CLEVELAND — With a deep, refined voice, one that had been sadly misplaced, Ted Williams simply asked for help to get him off the streets.
He’s been heard.
Left homeless after his life and career were ruined by drugs and alcohol, Williams has been offered a job by the NBA’s Cleveland Cavaliers and is being pursued by NFL Films for possible work after he and his compelling tale became an online curiosity.
“This has been totally, totally amazing,” Williams said in a phone interview with The Associated Press on Wednesday, his voice choking with emotion. “I’m just so thankful. God has blessed me so deeply. I’m getting a second chance. Amazing.”
Williams was contacted Wednesday by the Cavaliers, who have offered him a position that could include announcing work at Quicken Loans Arena, the team’s downtown arena. Williams said the team has offered him a two-year contract and said they would pay his mortgage.
Williams, whose deep baritone and plight have made him an online video sensation, was contacted Wednesday by the Cavs. Team spokesman Tad Carper said details are still being worked out on a possible position for Williams.
[Read the rest of the article here on ESPN]
Here’s an interview with a local news station:
Here’s the viral video:
what other redemption stories do you know of?
30 Thoughts, Thanks on 30
I turn 30 years old today.
1. HOLY CRAP! When did this happen?
2. Beautiful 2 year old son. Thank you.
3. Beautiful wife who sets me straight. Thank you.
4. Beautiful DAUGHTER on the way in May of 2011. Thank you, thank you!
5. 30 is the new 20? Time will tell but at the first sign of back or knee failure, that expression is officially a hoax!
6. Time to take up “new” hobbies: Basketball, poker, and gadgets. So what if they’re the same ones from my 20′s?
7. Something I had very little interest in during my 20s but I’d like to accomplish in my 30s: Write a book.
8. Never in my life have I felt so rich and poor at the same time as I do right now!
9. But at the end of the day, I am rich. Filthy rich. Thankful.
10. Did I think that by the age of 30, I’d have my own family? Why yes. Thankful that my inclination was honored.
11. Did I think that by the age of 30, I would have had 2 separate, extended stints in different countries (Thailand, Mexico)? Nope.
12. Did I think that by the age of 30, I would have done something musically relevant? Yes. Which is why I dread getting older!
13. I have to fight very hard not to get depressed on my birthday every year. I don’t know why this is but it is an annual ritual. Must. Keep. Fighting!
14. Newsong. Thankful for you
15. How is it that I get to choose what clothes I want to wear each day? Thankful.
16. How is it that my wife and child wear such snazzy clothes, too? Thankful.
17. I have been able to make a different kind of “living” for a few years now. Thank you.
18. Nearly 80 birthday greetings on my Facebook wall… and it’s only 3 PM. Thankful!
19. My birthday this year was supposed to be donated toward the cause of anti-trafficking. I will be working hard this next year to enable people from all around the world to donate their milestone birthdays to end slavery…
20. Bono, Kobe… look forward to having coffee with you guys some day. We’d be great friends.
21. Oh boy… what I would give to be 21 again.
22. I have no regrets. Thankful
23. We shall overcome
24. Free at last, free at last
25. I have never been hungry, never been truly broke or bankrupt, never been deathly ill. Never been more grateful.
26. As much as I hate getting older, I suppose it’s time to embrace 30 head-on and live like it is awesome. Because it is.
27. I need to get better at asking questions instead of assuming I know or will find the answers.
28. Emotionally and spiritually, I will be Forever 21. What a great name for a clothing store.
29. Thanks for reading this.
30. Is the new… 30.
A Small Glimpse into the Slave Trade
for security reasons, i did not take any pictures yesterday but found these available on the web
**DISCLAIMER** – This post is not meant to paint Mexico or the people of this country in a bad light. This is purely a commentary on the unfortunate and heinous nature of sex trafficking and those subjected to the pandemic. Please take note that injustice such as what I am about to describe occurs the world over and is not exclusive to Mexico. Please love and pray for Mexico and its people.
La Merced is the center of prostitution in Mexico City. On my family’s first visit to this city last December, my friend Benny took a wrong turn on our way to a tourist spot and accidentally gave us a drive-by tour of the area. What I saw that day drew some uncanny parallels to the story I heard behind Drew Brees’ recruitment by the New Orleans Saints football team a few years ago.
In his first tour of the city, Drew Brees accidentally bore witness to the destruction of Hurricane Katrina when coach Sean Payton took a wrong turn. Payton’s intention was to show Brees all the best and attractive areas of New Orleans. (Oops!) I’m sure at that point, the coach thought he screwed up his chances of landing the coveted free agent quarterback but as the story goes, Drew and his wife could not deny a sense of calling they had to move to New Orleans. After witnessing the destruction, Drew Brees knew that a move to New Orleans would be about more than just football. This transition was about being a part of rebuilding a city.
My accidental tour of La Merced last year is part of what drove my family and I to make the move to Mexico City 6 months ago in what may turn out to be a 2 year commitment. We witnessed the destruction from a car and felt a calling to help “rebuild” a city with our hands and feet on the ground. What did we see that day? A street full of prostitutes scattered along every few feet or so in the bright light of day.
For the first time since moving to Mexico City, I was able to take a very intentional tour of La Merced yesterday with Benny on foot. To say that my eyes were opened would be an understatement.
Though the area is just 30 minutes away by subway from where we live, La Merced felt like an entirely different country. Each nook and cranny of the street was packed with merchants selling every kind of gadget, trinket, and snack and the congestion of foot traffic makes for a very typical big city experience. One clear distinction however is that this street is home to over 1,000 prostitutes, many of whom are forced to stand and parade out in plain view of everyone in the middle of the day.
I don’t know if it was the street suadero tacos I just ate with Benny but I was on the verge of nausea the entire time. I don’t know if it was the smoke emitted by the cars driving by but I couldn’t help but feel a heaviness and fatigue as we walked by each prostitute. I never thought that such a place was possible and it’s hard to think that anyone could ever imagine a scenario such as what one sees in La Merced.
The place had a rather heavy police presence, which would normally mean that the law of the land is being carried out and the rights of people are being protected. I felt sick to my stomach as I learned that these cops work harder to regulate on street merchants peddling wooden bookmarks rather than the pimps who parade the bodies of countless women against their will. These law officials are paid off and turn a complete blind eye to the obvious evil in front of their eyes.
Within minutes of walking through La Merced, I couldn’t help but think about the United States pre-MLK when something as wrong as segregation and blatant discrimination was commonplace and “normal.” It took a revolution to turn the tide on this norm and though the problem is far from solved, at least the average American now knows that discrimination is unacceptable, un-cool, and definitely not normal.
I realized that if we are going to be a part of the solution here, we need to get people to a place where they are enraged by this injustice and this type of thing should feel incredibly abnormal and outrageous. It was shocking when it hit me that these prostitutes of mid-day were so commonplace that most people would simply walk by these women as if they were trees or street lights—normal fixtures.
Benny led me down an alley where there was another form of sale for men looking for sex. I saw this scene in the movie “Trade” (starring Kevin Kline) where women walk around in a circle as a massive crowd of potential clients gather to view and select their “merchandise.” To see this in real life was a shock and once again, the nonchalant and commonplace nature of this scene was appalling. A female janitor pulled her trash bin right through the crowd of men and ring of women as she needed to access the dump. There was no shock or anger in her voice as she said “con permiso” (excuse me) and walked straight through. Once again, the normality of the scene in front of me was hard to digest. Nausea.
a very accurate picture what i witnessed yesterday
Many of the women on the street were clearly mothers who have probably been forced into this trade in order to provide for their sons and daughters. It is not uncommon to see women in skin-tight jeans, stilettos and cleavage-bearing blouses who also happen to be several months pregnant. Of course there are many young girls on this street. These girls are prostitutes but they are also someone’s daughter, sister, mother, wife, and child. I did not observe a single genuine smile and most wore faces of deep pain and hopelessness.
My heart breaks and my mind is overwhelmed. I told Benny that after this experience I am realizing that the issue is even bigger than I had originally thought… and I already knew that this was big. Not only must we consider the girls, their pimps and their clients, but we must consider the fact that the government and law enforcement is in on this. When we think about the prospect of rescue and intervention, we must think about how we can change culture to think differently about the issue. The issue isn’t just apathy and corruption. There is a real need to empower the general public to take the power we naturally have as human beings in order to stand for those who have had their dignity stripped from them. “Power to the people.”
What can we do? Are we wasting our time by thinking that our little chisels on this great mountain of injustice will provide any sort of real, lasting change? Perhaps that is what Evil wants us to believe so that we simply give up and hope the problem just goes away somehow. It takes audacity to believe that a whole system of wickedness can be overturned. It takes a great deal of faith and a measure of insanity to think that a Goliath of slavery can be killed once more through measly stones launched from the hopeful slingshots of young activists.
I would much rather do something than nothing. I think that’s what it will take. If each person did something rather than nothing, I know we can bring global freedom once more. It’s happened before. We do what we can and then let God finish the work.
So what is the part we’re playing right now? In addition to our rehabilitation safe house, we are in talks to start a women’s center right in the heart of La Merced. Women who want to get out of the slave trade can simply walk in and start receiving the aide and information they need to live life as free people. Benny and I are dreaming about and laying the groundwork for a global campaign we hope to launch some time next year. We are engaged in the small as our sights are set on the big and grand.
Thank you for reading. There is a part each of us can play in this battle. What will it be for you? What questions do you have?
crap!
there's a message in the crap of our lives!
this is the first of several posts over time on the topic of memories.
Something you must know about me is that I don’t know how to fart. (Wait, what? How is that possible?!) Some of my friends have theorized that perhaps 1) I wasn’t properly potty trained or 2) maybe it’s subconscious trauma that took over my body since the time in Kindergarten I successfully crapped in my pants during nap time and proceeded to smother the chocolate butter all over my blankets and soiled my clothes beyond repair. As if that wasn’t embarrassment enough, I ended up wearing the Principal’s daughter’s daisy dukes (aka Short Shorts) with a Playboy bunny on the rear left pocket for the rest of the day. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the most confident boy on the jungle gym during recess that afternoon.
So to this day, I have yet to fart publicly. Of course when I’m on the toilet, this all changes as I’m able to let everything rip without worry of Hershey squirting in my pants. The issue here is that I simply do not know how to distinguish between a fart and a real bonafide #2. I’m afraid to try as this will mean I could risk ruining a perfectly good pair of boxers. Some have suggested the use of Depends –as in diapers for adults–but unless I’m filming my own webisode of Jackass for money, I would rather not take anything away from the national geriatric supply.
I have concluded that this is a hopeless case for now but at least it gives me a fail-proof social boost when a conversation runs dry. Even the most non-talkative or socially awkward person can’t resist commenting on such a ridiculous disability. “No way… that’s crazy. Whoa… Ok, I’m gonna go walk over there now…”
I think we all need a Toilet sometimes. A place where we can let go of all inhibition and just let it rip; let the crap fly, so to speak, without worry of embarrassment, judgment, or need to wipe. Some call this “community” or “deep friendship” but whatever you would call it, we all need it and want it. I’m thankful I have it.
When was the last time you just let it rip on a “Toilet”? Maybe it’s been years and you are in major need of prune juice and stool softener before you jump on the porcelain bowl. I just want to say that it’s all good… just come as you are and take a dump, er– take a risk. This could be a matter of life and death!
(my apologies if you are unable to see the reflective and deep nature of this post due to the gratuitous use of “crap” as an analogy. I assure you that my stories are true, however, even if this is the most TMI post you ever read!)
dk
On Kind Words
Hey Everybody,
It’s been forever and a day since my last post. This blog is not dead. It just woke up from hibernation like a bear in winter. A very long, cold winter. A very long, cold winter in Antarctica. Which is pretty much winter all year long. So now we’re moving out of Antarctica and moving into Southern California. Which is where I live now. . . shall I go on?
Just a quick thought about kind words.
Funerals are sad, we can all agree on that right? You know what makes funerals doubly sad? The fact that the kind words and eulogies given will never be heard by the person who passed away. The tragedy of “I never got a chance to say . . . ” is an absolute killer.
Going-away parties, last-day-at-work parties, etc are also pretty sad. A lot of “I have always wanted to tell you this but … ” and “I wish we got to know each other…” or “I think you’re super hot” are kind words that almost sting when you consider the possibility that they might have meant a lot more had they been shared before you ever mentioned leaving! (Side note: I also feel incredibly awkward when some of the parting words get a little out of hand. Things like, “You were always my favorite” or “You single-handedly changed my life forever” or “You complete me” are never as much fun to hear when they feel like desperate euphemisms for “Sorry I never gave you the time of day. Like ever.” Just for the record, I have never heard these words said to me before so no harm done. Phew!)
It’s unfortunate that we often save our kindest, best words for when it is almost (or is) too late. There’s no harm in looking at the people who mean something to you square in the eye once in a while to let them know that they freakin’ rock. I think this is one of many things we could do right away to make this world a better place.
So tell me: What are some “parting words” you heard that made you feel ridiculous? On the converse, what are some in-the-moment-when-it-matters words you heard that totally breathed new life into you?
April 9, 2012 | Categories: Commentary, Culture, Inspiration | Tags: compliments, eulogy, funeral, going away, kind words, now | 2 Comments »