On August 5th, 2019, around 4 in the morning, my Grandmother died. It’s a common story for most people in my generation to talk about their grandparents dying, but I believe mine is a little different.
My parents divorced whenever I was two years old, and I was brought to Grandma’s house to be raised. My first memory of her was when I was a baby: I was lying in a crib, she was standing over me saying things that you says to babies. We were in the master bedroom of her house. She had just given me a bottle of Root Beer, and she was putting me to sleep. During my formative years, she saw that I had everything I needed, and I saw her watch her husband waste away from Parkinson’s disease. She and I fought a lot, and it’s hard to say if we were even friends. I left her house in my early twenties, and left her to herself. I visited often, and every time I saw her another layer of her would be gone. She would become a new person that was easy to forgive, and easy to love. Every time I left her house I dealt with the hard reality that it could be the last time I saw her.

I’ve been dealt the card of death multiple times over the past few years. Each time is different—varying from one extreme to another. This time it was blunt force, delivered by my father over the phone just hours after she had passed. The impact would seem faint, but over these past two weeks I have come to remember grief and all of it’s forms.

These are difficult days.

You Should Forgive God

I think it’s important to note that the idea of “forgiving God” is heresy. 

The Christian God, Jesus, and the Holy Sprit are at no time in history at fault. This is in direct contrast to humanity, which has been in and at fault since the fall.

I was made aware of the idea that “…we should forgive God…” about a year ago. It suggests that humans should “forgive God” for the negative circumstances that he has put us though in our lives—e. g.,  growing up poor, being sexual abused, having bad parents, or anything else that would dramatically shape a person in a negative way—therefore, cause them to hold resentment towards God.

There is absolutely no Biblical ground for this concept. As created and fallen creatures, we are unable to pardon lest God himself pardon us. To suggest forgiving God brings into the questions his goodness and righteousness, let alone his ownership of creation and the grace offered by Jesus’ death and resurrection.

 A proper response to any resentment towards God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit is unequivocally our surrender to him. We must first recognize that we have been in rebellion against Him and His law.

 I believe whoever came up with the idea of “forgiving God” probably intended for it to soften the blow of my previous statement; however, it heretically assumes that God is somehow at fault.

 I will offer this anecdote. He is a good God who has loved and taken care of me my entire life. He is all-powerful, slow to anger, and capable of dealing with any problem that I might have with him. He gently corrects his children in love, and guides them to proper understanding of his character.



Today is Resurrection Sunday, and as I wander the halls of this high school—waiting for the next service of church to start—I recall where I was ten years ago. I’d only been in Humble for about a month, and I had just landed a job at a high end auto-repair facility. A child.

I believe that my life was changed because of  Jesus’ resurrection, though It’s hard to say at what point this occurred. My whole life has been tied back to the sacred legend of the Ancient of Days.

He continues to change me, grow me, and promote me. By the end of it I hope to be found as a man of God free of addiction and a broken self-image.

Regardless of what happens, “...I could sing of your love forever.” 


New Teeth

This morning I’ll be playing on a new set of teeth. I had some repairs done to my traveling ghost. Aside from needing a good brushing, and something rolling around in the case, they seem to have fixed the over zealous D below middle C and the sticky B just above. 


I know more than ever, that there is a high importance to the cohesion of musicians in a band: unity in direction, repertoire, and purpose; otherwise, it’s just karaoke...

Musical Weekend

I got to see a lot of great music weekend. The first set was The Midnight who had a great opener, Violet Days. The show was so awesome; The Midnight’s catalog is filled with candy and great songs. 

What seemed to be most special was getting to sit with John Ebdon and Steven Fenly. These two artists are true to craft, and and I’m honored to call them my peers.


After them, we ate at the House of Pies. which is always the best.


It’s a wonderful thing to experience the arts.  

Old friends

These old friends have been staying in the Forest. A quick trip to recover them. Some old friends are beautiful, and some old friends are like cactus’.

Setting Up & Sitting Around

Early Sunday morning set up at Westlake.

Early Sunday morning set up at Westlake.

A big part of my musical life has been a lot of sitting around, and waiting for other musicians. It’s not a complaint, just an observation. In fact, there isn’t much to complain about these days.

So much of art is pulled from depression and angst, at least for me it has been. It’s a strange place to be whenever it’s 1:30 am, staring at my instrument from across the room, and know that there isn’t much that I need to emote about.

I’m guessing that’s good. Maybe I can hang out here for a moment.