Haiti. Sweat and Sabbath.

Friday-
Our work was on Friday was varied. Some of us built/varnished pews, others painted a new Nazarene Compassionate Ministries building on campus. However, Nate Kerr and I worked on assembling 7 wooden crosses for the church buildings to be built during the summer and 7 smaller crosses for the front of the pulpits which Jacob Morris and Megan Arnett were building. While I am no master carpenter like Jesus or Will Knowles, I was pretty stinkin' proud of our work. Also, there is something unique about assembling crosses you make with your hands. I spent most of that day reflecting and praying about the very things my hands were doing.

Saturday-
Our day consisted of some work around the Nazarene Seminary Cleaning up in the morning. Then we kicked it up a notch after lunch. We then did some of the hardest work I had ever done as we moved a huge pile of rocks from one side of campus to the other. I was literally so tired that the thought of pulling out my camera to document our work overwhelmed me :) But trust me, hard work was done!

Sunday-
After Jacob (and myself) played some accidental bumper cars loading up for the day, we headed off to the church in Pernier that we had worked at earlier that week for a Worship and Dedication Service. I will let the pictures below speak for themselves, but it was an amazing time of worship and watching the Kingdom of God break into our world. It is a day forever etched in my memory.

Grinding Mill near the Church we worked at in Pernier II.

The New Church Building.

Pastor Brent preaching and our Translator/Guide/Foreman, Frantz

After the children sang, "This is the day that the Lord has made" in English, they invited us all up on stage to sing along with them!

Woman in the village we were in.

Pastor Breville. 5'1". 77 years old. 30 years as Pastor in Pernier II.

Group shot with church board in the new church, on the stage, after the church service.

Children waiting to receive the school supplies that we had brought with us.

Haiti- The First 4 Days

Sweat. Flexibility. Hard Labor. Humidity. Humility. More Sweat.

These are the words that best sum up our time here in Haiti so far. 

Day 1-
Our first day as a time was spent traveling from Nashville to the Nazarene Seminary just outside of Port-au-Prince in a town called Petionville.  After a plane delay in Miami, we were finally on our way.  Upon arrival, we searched for all our bags in an old airplane hangar where we then walked through "Customs."  Undoubtedly, our trip from the airport was consumed with dropped jaws and culture shock as we drove through dirty streets, and a heavy downpour.  By the time we reached the Work & Witness house on the Seminary Campus, it was almost completely dark out.  Upon our arrival we were greeted by a Work and Witness team from Southern Nazarene University, where we began to sweat.


Day 2-
We began our day early with breakfast at 5:30am.  Fueled and ready to work, we quickly began our first lesson on flexibility.  Our plans for the day were halted as we waited for our our Work & Witness coordinator, Frantz, to return from some errands.  Finally around 6:30am, we began working on the campus prepping some materials for the rest of our week.  We began by sorting school supplies that we brought.  We also, stained pews, welded some seats into the back of a big cage truck, sorted tools, built a pulpit and built a cross for the church we would be working on Wednesday and Thursday.  Once our day was completed our sweet Haitian house "mom" (Elise) had made up sloppy joe's to eat! Sleep came early, as we knew day 3 would quickly be approaching and the sweat would begin to pour once more.

Day 3-
With breakfast at 5:30am and a departure at 6:00am, our day started early.  Only, once more, our start was delayed. After some 5 gallon jugs of drinking water were bought at market, we began to make our way to the church we would be finishing in a very pour community in the mountains called, "Pernier #2."  Upon our arrival, around lunch, we found all of the masonry work completed by locals.  The church was responsible for housing and feeding the masons; a huge burden.  They were also responsible for finding the rocks for the foundation, pulling them out of the river bed, and climbing the mountain up to the construction site with them. We were told the community woke up early for several weeks to be able to complete this task.

Anyways, once there, we set up our tents we would be sleeping in. The community began to gather and would watch us work (and some work beside us) for the entire time we were there. Once we got going, we heard news that one of the Work and Witness Coordinators from Oklahoma had been rushed to the hospital with a ruptured appendix. So Frantz, left us to go be with her and take care of her.  (Continue to pray for Jennifer, as she recovers... Brent and I just saw her in the hospital and she is in a lot of pain, but is going to live)

Even without Frantz, we still competed our tasks for the days.  We built pews, assembled roof truss, and painted a lot of the building.  We ended our day by scarfing down some spaghetti and crashing into our sleeping bags.  Also, I killed the biggest spider I've ever seen that night.  (I just thought you needed to know that and know how manly I am.)  Also, I sweated the whole night.

Day 4-
We woke early (5:00am) and got straight to work after a quick breakfast.  Frantz was back, helping and instructing by the time breakfast was over.  We worked hard screwing tin to the beams, painting the entire building with a second and third coat (inside and out), and cleaned up around the building.  We never stopped sweating and as I now sit in the the Work & Witness house on the Nazarene campus, I continue to drip with sweat!

Gifts

It was Christmas time and I was home visiting my family. As per tradition, all of family who lived within a few hours drive, had come over for a huge Christmas day lunch. As we gathered around the table to eat, chatter, food and the love of a family swarmed throughout the room. Food was everywhere, but my Aunt Lisa had cooked her famous sweet potato casserole, so in my eyes, I was happy as could be.

Once we had gorged, we found ourselves split, half of us in the den watching Christmas day parades, while the other half kept busy in the kitchen cleaning up from our feast prepared for an army. Before my Aunt began to wash some of the big pots and pans in the sink, she removed her bracelet from her wrist. It was a charm bracelet of sorts, silver and shiny, as she placed it at the edge of the sink. My mother swooned and quickly complimented my aunt, her sister, on the beauty and elegance of that bracelet. Aunt Lisa quickly and graciously accepted her compliment, being sure to tell my mom exactly where so had purchased it as well as how much she had paid for it. She then promptly told my mother that she would keep her eyes open if she ever came across another one.

After our gluttony had passed and our bodies were rejuvenated from napping, the house once more came alive. Soon footballs were soaring across the living room and the men grew restless on the couches as the parades and football games had come to a close on the television. After the mom’s chased all the boys and men into the yard to play football, my mom and her sister remained at the kitchen table talking and catching up. When we returned back inside from the football game of the century, my mom was quick to point out the gift she had be given while we were outside; my Aunt’s charm bracelet.

For maybe the first time in my life, I had witnessed the giving of a gift out of pure love, demanding nothing in return. How often are do really ever give something away without asking for some kind of payment, whether its monetary, a “thank you,” or by expecting something in return? We often only give at Christmas because we want to get something “good” in return. And we give gifts at birthdays so that hopefully someone will remember our birthday and give a gift to us. But how often do we truly give gifts out of the same love for our neighbor that Christ gave to us through his death and resurrection. Perhaps this Easter season should be reminding us of that gift.

In the coming days, I challenge you to look for opportunities where you can give a gift without the expectation of getting anything in return. Reteach yourself how to truly give something away. Maybe it will be something physical, such as a bracelet your friend really likes or a meal you buy for them. Or maybe it will be giving love to the loveless, or hope to the broken. Whatever you give, give out of love that Christ has so generously given us. Allow the Kingdom of God to break into our lives as we learn to love both God and our neighbor.

Pawpaw, Theology, and Worship.

{Insert obligatory comment about time from last post until now… then insert obligatory disclaimer that current trend of blogging may or may not last}

The day is etched in my mind. I was home on Christmas break during my sophomore year of college. My family was gathered around the dining room table, during an unusually warm Thanksgiving day. Like every year, there was a separate children’s table, where for my entire life I had been forced to sit. This year was different, because this year, I finally made it to sit at the adult table. For the first time in my life, my voice was valid at the family table and I was finally mature enough to enjoy the company of my elders.

After the feast was finished, but before we retired to the living room to watch the Lions lose another football game, my family remained at the table paralyzed by all the food we had devoured. It was that “too full to move” mentality that walks the fence between shear laziness and pure contentment. While sitting there, our family began to tell old stories about the past. We laughed loudly, and at some points cried softly as we remembered my grandmother, Meemaw, who had recently passed away. My grandfather, however, remained at the table. He sat quietly, requiring a lot of help and assistance throughout the entire meal. At the time, he was in the final stages of Alzheimer’s with very little, if any, ability to care for himself. He had virtually no interaction with us that day, and chances are, he didn’t even know who we were.

As our stories began to fade, and as the adults grew ready for an afternoon nap, one of my younger cousins, George, grew restless at the children’s table. As he began to wonder around the house, he ended up at the family piano, playing some of the melodies he had been learning at his piano lessons. This quickly grew into an entire family affair. Before you knew it my mom was at the piano, playing the old hymns of the church.

Then, out of nowhere, Pawpaw began singing alongside all of us! He joined in, quietly, but assuredly, singing the lyrics of those old Christians hymns. The songs that he had learned in his childhood were now sung with child-like innocence. It is a moment forever etched into my mind.

If you have spent any time recently in the church, you know of the worship wars that unfortunately divide many within the body of Christ. Today, I’m not trying to make an argument for or against a certain type of worship. All are valid and have a place in the church. Rather, today, I want to call attention to another aspect of what has divided so many of us.

For hundreds of years, people developed, retained, and grew their theology from songs being sung and taught to them by rote. John Wesley, one of my spiritual forefather’s, knew how songs impacted the lives of people. This is why he and his brother, Charles, wrote such theologically charged songs at the end of the 18th century. When Charles Wesley wrote, “And Can It Be that I Should Gain,” he was writing his theology of atonement, love, and soteriology.

Other examples of this come from Spirituals written and developed by African American’s during slavery. “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” for example, was much more than a song about freedom. It tells a theology… a theology of liberation. “Amazing Grace,” is more than just a song about grace. It tells a theology. A theology of grace.

Unquestionably, this current generation, my generation, more than any other generation, is rooted in the art of music. Music is everywhere. Music is not just a part of culture, it dominates our culture. Yet, today, I’m forced to ask the question, “What theology is being taught by the songs we sing in our churches today?”

Please don’t hear me advocating for the hymns of old. For surely, there are theologically terrible hymns from antiquity. At the same time, there are theologically rich songs being written all over my home city, Nashville, today. We must learn to engage the lyrics of what we sing. We can’t become enamored with a key change or a catchy melody. Instead, we must become aware of what the words being sung are teaching us.

This week at church, read the words. Ask questions. Learn from the words. Grow from the words. Let the words work on your soul. Never neglect the practice of worship. But always be reflexive (or reflective) on the words we sing, and the subsequent theology being derived.

In Colossians 3:16 Paul says, “Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.”

When you come to the day, in childlike innocence, like my PawPaw, what will be the words you recognize? What words will dominate your inmost being? What words and theology are forming you?

Moving (on)

Moving is never fun. It doesn't matter where you're moving from or where you're moving to, the process of moving sucks life right out of you. After an exhausting graduation weekend filled with the stresses of speaking at the ceremony, cleaning out my office and apartment and all of my family coming into town, I moved into a room at DP's townhouse. But moving into DP's townhouse represented so much more than just another moving experience. It represented moving on from college. In so many ways I was ready to move, but for so many reasons I was content to simply live in Wise 1 and 2 for the rest of my life.

Needless to say, I did move on. And I'm glad I did. It was healthy and I feel like I'm where I need to be right now. To have that peace is a wonderful feeling and I love where I'm at in life right now!



oh yeah, this happened close to graduation too.
"Glow with the Flow"

A Happy Camper

One of the only things I can think of more fun than going to summer camp, is going to summer camp as a counselor. Over the summer, I had the privilege of working with two summer camps, Tennessee and Kentucky. On top of that, I got to work at these camps with five of my best friends. On top of that, we were given the keys to golf carts and basically raised heck for a solid week. (Hopefully somewhere in their kids lives where changed) We weren't the typical camp counselor's but rather we had been hired to help ensure everything behind the scenes went smooth. Which meant service production, meal time, late night activities, etc.

Some of my favorite memories from those camps came late at night after the campers were asleep. We would take the golf carts out and basically trash them. We would do wheelies, sled behind them in the mud, and race through a foot of standing water. We also played our own version of Mario-Kart, with our own made up weapons of choice.

Races around Trevecca's campus has almost killed two of my friends. I honestly thought I had chopped off Will's head with the roof of the golf cart when I flipped it. Luckily, Will is a shifty little son of a gun and somehow managed to survive. I thought Jake died when he willingly jumped out of a kart I was driving to try to win a race. Below is a sweet pic of his war-time injury.

If you've never been crazy with a golf cart, I highly suggest it


Jake with the lovely Mrs. Rita Storey

The Scene

Nashville has a reputation for good music. And not just country music as the stereotype often is. I love going to shows, even though I don't do it often enough. Over the Spring I went to one of my favorite shows I've been to in Nashville as I saw Fiction Family. Fiction Family consists of Jon Foreman (from Switchfoot) and Sean Watkins (from Nickel Creek). Both are extremely talented performers and musicians. I saw them at the Historic Belcourt Theatre which made the experience that much better! I also had the opportunity to hear Thad Cockrell open and he has become one of my favorite artist. Also it didn't hurt to be surrounded by some of my best friends at the show. Here are a couple awesome cell videos and photos... enjoy.




Sean Watkins covering a Nickel Creek's 'Somebody more like you'

Family Times

I just got home from spending the afternoon and evening with my Aunt and her family. I truly love spending time with my family during the Holidays... heck, I love being around my family just about anytime, especially my immediate family. I think it's amazing that even though we all live different lives that when we come together we seem to pick up right where we left off. Sure we have some new stories to tell and pictures to show, but the plot line is the same. I love that security and that feeling. I often take for granted the family I have, but I truly am thankful for my family...

Which brings me to one of my favorite events of the year... thanksgiving in Sea Level, NC. This year we had a Taylor Family reunion in Sea Level, NC. (Sea Level is the name of the little town) That little town has great connections to my family heritage as 3 or 4 generations of Taylors, prior to my grandad, had lived there. It's just like any rural small town, but it's on edge of the Atlantic. My great-grandfather owned the only general store, and from the stories seemed to have been the entrepreneur and business man of Sea Level. So whenever we go there, I feel a sense of entitlement as we roam the streets, because my great-grandfather was once the well-to-do man in town. Funny the way your mind works sometimes I guess. But this thanksgiving we went there and I got to hear all the old stories again. There's nothing better than hearing an old aunt tell a story about the good ole days. Sometimes I think I was meant to live in that time period... (other times I grateful I wasn't!)

This thanksgiving was filled with fun and laughter, fishing and catching, as well as family and eating. All of which are my favorites. Being around family for a solid week is trying at times, but the memories created are worth every moment of tension. Watching my little cousin eat three honey buns while fishing was great and seeing his eyes after somehow pulling up an eel are memories worth millions. Catching fish constantly at the "Blue Fish Rodeo" was worth the freezing rain and miserable conditions. Staying up ridiculously late to fish and only catching a cold, was worth every minute.

Needless to say, I love my family and I'm thankful for every moment I have with them.
Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Sea Level, NC on a map. "A"


Dolphins were swimming beside the boat!

Cape Lookout on the OBX

Tay Tay and his mom fishin!

"Lay off me, i'm starving"

Friday Night Live is a tradition at Trevecca unparalleled. I absolutely love this event and it is one of those nights where memories are always made. After being in charge of the event my Junior year, I was happy to simply participate and watch the show this year. This year we did our own version of "Gap Girls" staring Chris Farley, David Spade, and Jeff Daniels. It was probably one of my favorite skits that I was apart of at Trevecca. It's hard to describe the events and videos that took place but FNL is always so much fun and the memories from that night will stick with me for years to come.

Here are a couple of my favorite videos from years past:






And a picture from this year

San Diego, Spanish for...

One of the perks of going to a small Christian College is getting the opportunity to experience some great opportunities. Trevecca flew me to South Korea my sophomore year. I also traveled to Boise, Chicago, Oklahoma City, Kansas City and San Diego. (I know I'm pretty lucky) Each of these trips brought with it work and conferences, but also quite a bit of fun.

In January I traveled to Point Loma Nazarene University in sunny San Diego, California. It's the perfect cure for the Nashville winter blues. San Diego is usually mid-60's and absolutely gorgeous this time of year. I wish I were there now, actually. This last trip to California involved a lot more work then play. In fact, I did a lot of growing up that extended weekend. I was Co-Chair of the organization which was having it's annual leadership conference and at this meeting it was recommended that we basically rewrite the constitution. I'll be honest, Robert's Rules and Orders is not my best friend, yet that week it became so. After many hours of working through the constitution, it was finished. While no lives will ever be changed because of it and no one might ever appreciate the work we put into it, I did feel accomplished. During that process I realized how important it is to have people around you that are strong in the gifts your not. It also helps to have good people, whom you enjoy being around, to help in the process as you are stuck in a conference room overlooking the Pacific Ocean... but seriously... we were on a cliff overlooking the ocean.

The view from the conference room:


Outfield of PETCO park, where the Padres play:


We drove to Anahiem one night to visit Andrew's Parents:


I miss these people:

A New Beginning

Going to Trevecca, I never really experienced the 'usual college experience.' My dad, mom, and sister had gone to Trevecca. I had visit Trevecca with my youth group probably 5 or 6 times while in High School. I had visited Trevecca during Homecoming with my parents several other times. My first Trevecca roommate and I were good friends in High School.

Starting Vanderbilt was completely different. While I did know Jacob and Andrew, I had none of the perks of my previous experience. It got pretty overwhelming at time, and sometimes I questioned what I was doing, but luckily I met some pretty great people.

Ever Friday morning, the Divinity School has what they call, 'Coffee Hour.' Basically that means free coffee, bagels, and doughnuts as well as community announcement and a chance to make friends/be with friends. It was the second coffee hour and I still had not really made any other friends. Jacob and Andrew weren't there that day and so I was floundering to see a familiar face. I saw one guy, Ben, that I had met so I went and sat with him. (It didn't hurt that he was sitting around the pretty Div school girls either.)

Well after shooting the breeze and talking about nothing for 30 minutes with the people at my table, I think it was Ben that brought up the TV show 24. We all agreed that we should rewatch one of the seasons in preparation for the new season in January. I really didn't think anything would come of it, but it did! I ended up having them over to my place the first time and we all really clicked from the get-go.
Pretty much every week since, we have gotten together, someone has cooked dinner and we've watched 24. We've become close friends and I am very thankful for our friendships! They have made my first semester at Vandy absolutely wonderful.

a few of my vandy friends

32mph of Pure Bliss

They say it's the small things in life that sometimes bring the most happiness. For me, it was buying a 1972 Bermuda Flandria peddle start moped. While it's top speed of 32mph it is no crazy thrill ride, but I absolutely love that little orange moped I named Clementine.

After a few weeks of running strong after I bought her, she started giving me a little trouble. Thus, my small engine repair career began. I felt like a 1st grader in Calculus when I first started working on Clementine, but after a couple weeks of taking the whole moped apart, I know classify myself as an expert... well kinda. (And I must say, DP gave me a lot of help albeit actual help or moral support!)

Needless to say, 32mph is slow, but it's fun... and it's kinda left me wanting to move from 49cc's to around 500cc's... maybe just maybe... but don't tell my mom.

While it probably sounds silly that a dumb moped made me happy, I think everyone should find something no matter how silly or dumb, and enjoy it. Life's too short not too.

Clementine

Commissioned

It's a tradition at Trevecca that in the Spring semester of your senior year all Religion majors as well as the Religion Professors go on a retreat. Leading up to the event there are rumors that the Religion Professors were going to grill us and make sure we knew what we were talking about before they allowed us to graduate. So going in I was extremely nervous and anxious to find out what this retreat was all about.

While some of the weekend might have been a little dumb and pointless, there is one moment which is burned into my memory. The last night of the retreat, each of us were individually brought forward and prayed over by our professors. The men and the women who had spent the last four years pouring themselves into my life were now commissioning me. It was an astounding experience as the role of 'professor' transitioned to 'partner' in ministry. Having the approval of the men and women who had graded your papers, answered your questions, provided advice about life decisions and helped prepare you for a lifetime of ministry is an extremely humbling experience.

While it's hard to describe what exactly went on that night, it has made an impact on my life as some of the men and women that I look up to the most gave their stamp of approval on my life and ministry. I will forever be grateful for their impact on my life.

Paradise and Poverty

Getting the dates of two of your friends weddings mixed up is bad enough. I thought I was going to be in Detroit in late May for a wedding, but it would actually be late June. On top of that mistake, I had booked my flight for a missions to from Detroit because I thought I'd have to leave from the reception of the wedding. Nope. My dates were way mixed up and I would have to drive 10 hours and leave from Detroit because it was going to be $500 to change my flights. Not cool.

Anyways, I arrived in Haiti separate and one day later from the rest of the group who I was meeting. My Dad and the missionary met me at the airport. If you have never been to a third world country airport, it's hard to explain the chaos and immediate culture shock you experience. After nearly being mauled walking outside, I saw my Dad's balding head and made a B-line towards him.

On our way to the Nazarene Bible College in Haiti, we passed through flooded streets with debris floating everywhere. The previous few days had brought a lot of rain and had made the roads treacherous. However, we arrived safe and sound and the next day we started work. Working on "Island Time" was quite an experience as we basically waited all day to get supplies and start working. Over the next 4 days we worked our tales off and got a lot accomplished and really helped prepare a girls dorm that would be used the upcoming fall. (My electrical training from NuMynd came in use too!)

Each day we worked there were two little boys that hung around us. Stephen and Lixon. Lixon and I hit it off from the get go. I taught him to paint and he taught me some words in Creole. One day I took a rubber glove, blew it up and tied it off (making a balloon) and started playing with the two boys. Our fun was quickly nixed as the Haitian foreman came and scolded the boys. I asked the missionary what happened and he explained to me that the boys weren't simply hanging around us, but were workers in training. These 9 year old boys were suppose to be working and training to be a construction worker.

Stories like this abound and it makes my heart heavy simply recalling that days events. However, I am thankful for the work of the Church of the Nazarene there. They not only strive to provide quality pastors for the Haitian people that have a warped religion of voo-doo mixed with Catholicism, but also seek to provide them with clean water, education, and numerous other services.

Lastly, the resilience of the Haitian people still stand out to me. They haven't given up and aren't consumed with what they don't have, but are extremely thankful for what they do have. Amidst the poverty stricken streets there is still a beautiful island, but even better there is a beautiful people who refuse to settle and daily strive to live the best life possible.

Road side markets lined the streets.





Our last day in Haiti we ventured 2 hours in the back of a truck across the Island to a small hotel that had a beach. The mountains in the background are the victims of deforestation. There are very few trees in Haiti as people have cut down virtually all of them to use for cooking and heat.

A three hour tour

Three of my friends from church, Ryan, JP, and Levi, had the dream to test out some of their new outdoor gear and go on a two day canoe trip. They needed a fourth person to round out the second canoe, so when asked I didn't hesitate to say yes.

The plan was to leave after church Sunday night, drive to the river, camp there and wait for our charter to arrive at 10 am Monday morning to take us up the river 27 miles and drop us off.
The car ride was suppose to be 3 hours, but that would soon only turn into a spec of time. We ended up in Oneida, KY instead of Oneida, TN. So after 11 hours of driving, we ended up at our location. About this time we hit the 'middle school girls sleepover giggling' stage of exhaustion. I might never laugh at the dumbest things that I laughed at that morning.

After a short nap, our charter service picked us up and dropped us off at the top of the river. Ignoring our sleepiness, we put on our manly faces, packed up the canoe's and hit the water. 50 yards into the 27 mile journey our lack of sleep already began to affect us. We hit a medium size rapid and immediately flipped both canoes. Now, exhausted and wet we paddled on. Luckily our giggles continued and we had a great first day.

An hour before sunset we set up camp, got everything just right, then it started pouring rain. We ate in our tents and then went to sleep. JP promised his one person tent was big enough for the two of us, but in the middle of the night I got claustrophobic and freaked out. Seriously, I ripped open the door and ran out into the wet night gasping for air and scared to death a huge bear would be standing there. I so wish I had that on camera... it must have been a sight to see.

Our trip ended the next day and it was a great time, had by all.

Religion Major vs. Electricity

What does a religion major and enough electricity to run a small town have in common? Not much, but one day in early March I became an electrician. What started as helping NuMynd Studios move into their new building, quickly became a part time job, which would eventually lead to a full time job over the summer.

This particular day, however, I was asked to help assist Josh (who happens to a close friend) with some electrical work in Studio A. Well, as time became of the essence, I was then asked to help wire some of the buss bars up on the ceiling. Then, with the day quickly coming to an end, and a first time client coming to visit at 8:00 in the morning, it became imperative to finish wiring the entire studio. My boss then said that if we finished the job before the morning we could have a $50 bonus. Being a poor college kids a $50 bonus on top of hourly pay seemed like a heck of deal, so we agreed.

By 7pm we were still not finished, so Josh and I ran to get some dinner. After a quick dinner at Baja Burrito, we got back to the studio and continued to work. By 11pm we were still not finished. Josh hadn't seen his fiance all day and I had an intramural basketball game, so we split up and decided to meet back at 12:30am to finish the job.

After our breaks we got back to work wiring ridiculous amount of electricity in the middle of the night. For those of you unfamiliar with a film studio, I was wiring electrical power equivalent to about 60,000 watts. (A typical lightbulb is 60 watts.) After Josh got shocked around 2:30am we questioned whether we should finish. Then we realized there was not only $50 on the line, but our pride as well, as our boss had challenged us to finish. Finally at 3:30am we finished the job! Everything surprising worked and to this day the studio hasn't burnt down... knock on wood.

Below is a a picture of the studio and a few of who work there being extra's for a medical shoot this fall.

Man Week

While over the next 16 days I’ll be sharing some of my favorite events and biggest decisions of the year, they won’t be in any particular order. However, today’s entry does happen to be one of my favorite events.

Bachelor parties can be awesome. Often times they are loud, crazy, and exhausting as they extend late into the night. For Drew, Jesse, Will and I, we decided to take Josh's bachelor party down another road. We decided that one night was enough, so we made a week out of it and headed up to northern Michigan the week before Josh's wedding.

Our time at Jesse's cabin was spent eating, sleeping, and watching Full House. Yes... we couldn't get enough of Danny Tanner for some reason. (who can?) Anyways, our illustrious plans of four wheelers, snow mobiles, and jet skis were overhauled by horrible weather, lack of snow, and mechanical malfunctions. And Josh, the groom, getting real sick. Needless to say, amidst our apathy, laziness, and gluttony, we found time to dream and implement some pretty awesome photo sessions. Our mornings were spent dreaming up the shoot and the afternoons were spent letting Will work his magic.

While the week turned out to be quite uneventful and there are no crazy typical bachelor party stories to tell, I wouldn't trade this time with some of my best friends for anything.








photos copyright www.willknowles.com

525,600 Minutes

Perhaps Will Smith said it best in Hitch when he said, “you can’t know where you’re going, until you know where you’ve been.” Granted, I’m not writing this to smooth talk Eva Mendes, rather I intend to recount some of the experiences that have occurred over the past 365 days. These experienced have greatly shaped me and the path the rest of my life will take.

A friend of mine has done this same type of blog and it caused me to recount some of the events of the past year. Needless to say from my last semester at college to graduation to an event filled summer to starting grad school, my year has been packed with life changing experiences.

These recollections will tell a story. A story about a young boy who seeks to find joy in mundane, peace in times of decision, and pure happiness while among his friends. Merry Christmas to all who choose to look back on the year of 2009 with me. Blessings.