[Liberty Blog] 40 Days in the Desert

O, the joys of touring. I’m currently sitting in a bug-infested motel room called The Camelot here in Amarillo, TX after watching Jase put down over 50 ounces of sirloin steak at The Big Texan. It’s probably the furthest removed from charming, but it is admittedly nice to have a quiet space to sit back and reflect on what’s been going on the past few days. And if that news about Jase baffled you at all, be sure to ask him for the details. It’s a very amusing and painful story all wrapped up in one.

Was anyone curious when Jase announced the car crash? That was me. Yep. I crashed the van, the trailer, and horribly bent the hitch that connects the two. It gets better: that same day, I watched as my keyboard slipped off of my keyboard stand to smash onto the floor in sparks and smoke. That might’ve been the most difficult moment of the tour for me. I kid you not, I wept (the keyboard is thankfully safe).

The second most difficult moment wasn’t that far behind. In our wonderful crew of bands and nonprofit, it’s safe to say that I’m the most introspective person here. Which is fine. I have no misgivings or holdups concerning my personality; it’s the way the good Lord made me. But it does get kinda lonesome at times when your energy reserve gets depleted and you decide to remove yourself from the crowd to collect your thoughts but find yourself alone. It got pretty hard when I had one of those difficult moments, and there was a war raging inside my skin that was compelling me to think that this specific quality of my personality was case enough to depart from the band or do something intensely irrational. I know, pretty wild, right? But it kicked my ass when I was having that battle during one of our shows and I had to watch as my bandmates got depressed over my lack of stage charisma and concede defeat long before the set was over. I wept, again.

Things are, for the large part, pretty calm now.

But it’s strange.

I’m a pretty spiritual guy. A story that I was taught in my spiritual upbringing was one of how Israel’s patriarch Moses brought the nation of Israel out of Egyptian slavery, but into a harsh forty years of wandering living in the arid desert. What seemed like a forlorn existence on the surface was actually a honeymoon period-of-sorts between God and his chosen people. It was in what was arguably the most difficult time of their lives that God taught them valuable lessons and showcased how much he loved and cared for his chosen people before steering them into the promised land of security and happiness.

Without a hint of drama, I think this tour is my desert.

I left the tour with no job security and with zero dollars in my bank account. What was supposed to be the most romanticized trip of my short life is turning out to be the hardest. I’m trying to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to pay for the damages on the van. I’m learning daily to combat my insecurities and celebrate my personality instead of lamenting it. This was supposed to be the kickass journey of my life, and suddenly I’m finding that my deepest insecurities and struggles are being explored.

Crazy times, huh? What a ride.

It’s interesting. I can’t say that I have everything figured out. There isn’t a happy ending to this story just yet. But here’s to the hope that there is one. The promise land is waiting for me, somewhere. And until then, I’m still with the four guys who I can’t imagine being without while I’m hating life and cursing God.

Hope you guys enjoyed the story. Colorado and California, we can’t wait to share our music and our stories with you.

Tonight, help my unbelief.