Part 4: Earthquakes and Turkey Soup
I went to see The Chariot when they stopped at Studio Seven in Seattle during their farewell tour in November. This was a momentous occasion for my husband and I. Our first date as an official "long distance" couple was a meet up at a The Chariot show several years ago. We've seen them about five times since.
We mosh and thrash and scream, worshiping Jesus with the band. They jump off the stage onto our heads and hands. We pray with them and they invite us to eat with them after the show. We listen to their albums all year, eagerly anticipating our next joyous worship session together
This show - the final show we'd share with them - was not like the others.
More people attended this show than ever before. A beautiful sight.
As we waited and listened to the opening bands, I started imagining an earthquake and wondering what I'd do in the event one occurred in this crowded, stuffy place. Too many people, not enough doorways, I thought. But as soon as The Chariot began setting up on stage, my misgivings were forgotten.
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Jeremiah and I spent Thanksgiving together, just us and the dogs. We cooked all the things we look forward to all year- a turkey, stuffing, rolls, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, two pies, a cake - and ate as much as we could.
Needless to say, we had ample left overs.
The following day, we boiled the leftover turkey bones and made broth. With our broth, we made turkey soup. Again, we ate as much as we could.
We had ample left overs.
Our friend Kendal (who you read about in Part 1) is a culinary artist. I am not particularly fond of seafood, and the thought of eating anything besides fish makes me squirm. But when Kendal made seafood gumbo, complete with shrimp, clams, muscles, and octopus, I ate it up. And asked for seconds.
Being rendered essentially immobile by the breaks in his leg, Kendal has been reliant on others to cook meals for him; in particular, Jen. Though I know he is grateful for every bite (he has an unparalleled gift of gratitude), I also know it can be tiring to be the person stuck cooking and cleaning every day.
It was Jeremiah's idea to pack up our abundance of soup to The Keep, where Kendal and some other friends live. We had enough to feed all four friends who were home. And thankfully, they ate the chocolate cake we brought over too.
While they ate, we shared stories from our Thanksgivings. I found my mind wandering, taking note of the number of doorways and people in sight, again wondering what I'd do if there were an earthquake. My thoughts were jolted back to the present when Kendal began to catch us up on the state of his leg. He'd just gotten X-rays and a new cast, so we were eager to hear of his progress.
Turned out, there had been no progress.
Not slight progress. Not mediocre progress.
None.
Despite all the healing I could have sworn Jesus and I were giving, after a solid month of rest and immobility, there was no visible improvement to speak of. His leg was exactly the same.
I knew what I had to do.
---
Jeremiah is a musician. Most often, he plays the guitar.
For a year, he was the guitarist and vocalist for a band called Simon the Leper. We lived in The Yellow House with Simon the Leper's drummer, Jared Bugg. The band practiced in the basement of The Yellow House, and even recorded an EP there.
Simon the Leper broke up last spring. For nearly nine months, Jeremiah has been stuck playing guitar alone in our apartment, amp turned low as possible. As of November, Jeremiah was invited into two bands almost simultaneously. In one, he plays bass. In the other, guitar.
The bands have been progressing in parallel since their respective inceptions. Both began practicing the same week. Both named themselves during their third practice.
One of those bands, "A Friend," was formed by Jared Bugg. They practice in the basement of The Yellow House, where the drummer now lives. A Friend had their first show December 17. They played at Le Voyeur, a restaurant and bar in Olympia where Simon the Leper played countless times.
Le Voyeur is kind of a dive, though they have surprisingly delicious food and an excellent beer selection. We like the venue in part because the shows happen in back, and Le Voyeur patrons can choose to come watch rather than be bombarded with something they're not in to. Also, shows there are both all ages and free.
At least, every one of the dozens of times I've been there before to watch my husband and friends play a show, it's been free.
---
Thirty seconds into The Chariot's set, while I stood at center stage close enough to touch their vocalist, Josh, I had an anxiety attack. Overwhelmed, I tried to shove my way out of the pit but was unable to budge an inch in any direction. I turned to Jeremiah in a panic. His first instinct was to boost me onto the crowd so I could surf out. He was nearly trampled in the process, though. Instead, he shoved backward through the sea of thrashing kids and pulled me to a place I felt safe.
From our safe place, we could hardly see what was happening on stage. We were separated from the worship we'd been craving, like wine-os with a new bottle and no corkscrew.
We went to our car for a smoke, trying to tell ourselves we were still part of the show... We could hear the band loud and clear anyway...
When we went back into the venue, I stood at the back of the crowd, well outside the mosh pit. Jeremiah made it to the front again, crowd surfing and thrashing to the end.
My imagined earthquake returned. Do I run outside, risking getting trampled in the herd of people and crushed as the building falls? Do I find a doorway? There aren't enough doorways for us all...
"We don't do encores," Josh was explaining, desperation in his voice. An hour long punk metal set is no easy feat. "We love you guys so much, I hope this song does it for ya..."
And the encore dropped.
I stood behind a girl sporting "666" and upside down crosses on every surface of clothing from socks to jacket, watching the worshipers with her. As I stared at the anti-Christian logos on her back, wondering if she knew who we were worshipping, finally I found myself singing along. Finally, my legs stopped shaking and my ragged breath steadied. For a fleeting moment, I was part of the Church.
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In the heat of the moment, I was thoroughly disappointed. Here was one of my dearest friends sitting before me totally unhealed, despite our shared and fervent belief that Jesus is our healer.
Recently, my sister Brittany described a meditation class she took. "Our teacher told us to clear our minds," she said. "Whenever a thought comes, let it drift away like a balloon." That's what I did with my doubts. Whenever one entered my mind, I simply let it drift away.
When the meal was over, I made my move. I scooted over by Kendal and placed my hand on his leg. The moment I did, nerves in his thigh started twitching violently. The nerves had been pinched off before his surgery to eliminate feeling in his leg. I moved my hand away, the twitching slowed. I moved my hand closer, the twitching increased.
I kept my eyes focused on Jesus and my hands on Kendal's leg for several minutes. When I spoke, it was in tongues. Sometimes I hummed, or blew air onto his cast. When Jen came in, Kendal explained what was happening. We began talking about healing and various methods people utilize to release the body's inner-healing power. From Reiki to hypnotism we let our conversation wander, while we soaked in the healing presence of Jesus.
---
This time, as I made my way to the door, I noticed a boy sitting on a stool, stamping a friend of mine as she walked by. When I walked up, his expectant stare made me pause. "Hi," I said. "What are you doing?"
"Taking money for the show. Do you want to go in?" He asked.
"What's the cover?"
"Six dollars."
"Six dollars? To see my own husband play a show? I don't know, maybe I'll just sit at the bar..."
"You could buy a t-shirt instead. They're twelve dollars, and you get into the show for free."
There was something familiar about this situation. My knee-jerk, annoyed reaction was to simply leave. But I heard a voice within me say, There's something here worth witnessing, and I was reminded of a dream I had (Part 2). Reluctantly, I paid the boy and let him stamp me.
I went back to the show, where A Friend was warming up. As soon as they started playing, the injustice of a cover charge for a show at Le Voyeur was forgotten. The band's short but sweet set reminded me of Listener and Me Without You, with a splash of The Chariot for good measure. Delicious.
Behind me, a small crowd was gathered. More people than I've ever seen at one of my husband's shows. And they were thoroughly engaged in the performance. A beautiful sight.
For a moment, I started thinking about earthquakes again. But by now, I'd become practiced at releasing such thoughts like balloons.
The third song in the set, though, filled all my released balloons with water and dropped them on my head. "This one's called 'Earthquakes and Doorways,'" Jared Bugg said.
---
During The Chariot's encore, Jeremiah noticed the sound guy recording video of the crowd on his phone. When the sound guy is taking video, you know the show is off the wall.
After the set, Jeremiah struck up a conversation with Sound Guy. Studio Seven has a strict "No Stage Dives" rule, Sound Guy explained. But they make an exception during The Chariot shows. "The Chariot's pit moves as a unit," he said. "They look out for each other. I've never seen another crowd like it."
In the heat of the moment, I was thoroughly disappointed. Here was one of my dearest friends sitting before me totally unhealed, despite our shared and fervent belief that Jesus is our healer.
Recently, my sister Brittany described a meditation class she took. "Our teacher told us to clear our minds," she said. "Whenever a thought comes, let it drift away like a balloon." That's what I did with my doubts. Whenever one entered my mind, I simply let it drift away.
When the meal was over, I made my move. I scooted over by Kendal and placed my hand on his leg. The moment I did, nerves in his thigh started twitching violently. The nerves had been pinched off before his surgery to eliminate feeling in his leg. I moved my hand away, the twitching slowed. I moved my hand closer, the twitching increased.
I kept my eyes focused on Jesus and my hands on Kendal's leg for several minutes. When I spoke, it was in tongues. Sometimes I hummed, or blew air onto his cast. When Jen came in, Kendal explained what was happening. We began talking about healing and various methods people utilize to release the body's inner-healing power. From Reiki to hypnotism we let our conversation wander, while we soaked in the healing presence of Jesus.
---
This time, as I made my way to the door, I noticed a boy sitting on a stool, stamping a friend of mine as she walked by. When I walked up, his expectant stare made me pause. "Hi," I said. "What are you doing?"
"Taking money for the show. Do you want to go in?" He asked.
"What's the cover?"
"Six dollars."
"Six dollars? To see my own husband play a show? I don't know, maybe I'll just sit at the bar..."
"You could buy a t-shirt instead. They're twelve dollars, and you get into the show for free."
 |
| A Friend at Le Voyeur, Dec 17 Photo By: Claire Sorrell |
I went back to the show, where A Friend was warming up. As soon as they started playing, the injustice of a cover charge for a show at Le Voyeur was forgotten. The band's short but sweet set reminded me of Listener and Me Without You, with a splash of The Chariot for good measure. Delicious.
Behind me, a small crowd was gathered. More people than I've ever seen at one of my husband's shows. And they were thoroughly engaged in the performance. A beautiful sight.
For a moment, I started thinking about earthquakes again. But by now, I'd become practiced at releasing such thoughts like balloons.
The third song in the set, though, filled all my released balloons with water and dropped them on my head. "This one's called 'Earthquakes and Doorways,'" Jared Bugg said.
---
During The Chariot's encore, Jeremiah noticed the sound guy recording video of the crowd on his phone. When the sound guy is taking video, you know the show is off the wall.
After the set, Jeremiah struck up a conversation with Sound Guy. Studio Seven has a strict "No Stage Dives" rule, Sound Guy explained. But they make an exception during The Chariot shows. "The Chariot's pit moves as a unit," he said. "They look out for each other. I've never seen another crowd like it."
---
As Jared spoke "Earthquakes and Doorways" over the rhythmic noises of a guitarist and drummer who are madly in love, I was reminded of a post a friend wrote on his blog, The Pilgrimgram. In the post, "Whole Lotta Shaking Going On," my friend wrote "...If you're following God, you're either being shaken or about to be shaken. It's for your good, it's to make you more like Him. Don't freak out when it happens...."
As the song progressed, I heard Jared not only describing the visions I'd been having, but interpreting them as well. In that moment, I knew the imaginative images of earthquakes I'd thought needed suppressed, were indeed visions from Dad that needed interpreted.
Several folks have messaged me to help me interpret the dreams I shared in Part 2 (thank you!). Every interpretation has resonated with truth, and I've experienced that truth in my day-to-day. In this story, I'm brought back to a message from a woman I know only through Facebook. She interpreted both dreams beautifully for me:
In response to the first dream, she wrote, "Rhinos are usually a symbol for God. Your perception is that He may be there to do damage when all He wants is to clean up (purify) what's old and stale...
"The second dream, your father is God. The Coach is Holy Spirit. You are on a team with other believers. You are not alone. It is true we have the choice to choose or not to choose Holy Spirit's leading. There's no gray area. We do or we don't.
You huff off but realize that maybe that's not the best choice and come back. Nobody else is interpreting the coach's speech like you are. So, you decide to listen.
I think Papa has some areas in which he wants to change your perception. And that is between you and Him."---
We've reached the capacity of what I'm willing to cram into one blog post. If you're being shaken, you're not alone. We're shaking and growing together. It's for your good, don't freak out.
Stay tuned, it's all coming together I just know it.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 3.5
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