Father Spirit: the Messenger

Hey Friends,

Dad is a bit of a celebrity back at Rosewood now and mentioned he is comfortable there. Postproduction is moving forward; Aman has nearly finished transcribing the conversations we caught on the 60 hours of footage shot in India. I’m looking forward to reading through the dialog we’ve got on tape and glad for the opportunity to write. Building a narrative backbone is a welcome challenge, and I’m gaining clarity on what themes I hope to support and flesh out with voice-overs. In the meantime I’ve been blessed with some great opportunities and have enjoyed running with friends.

So many people I love have opened doors into exciting places. I wrote this when I was in India: “I’ve been blessed with some really amazing relationships and it has often been clear when I’m called to just go for something they enable.” Carving my way down from Loveland Pass by moonlight on my snowboard I was struck by the sharp contrast of black on white: pines perched, peering down the slope, setoff by snow bright as the moon… who am I to be here? Hanging with Toby and his 5 roommates just a few miles from the continental divide is ideal. I’ve been out here 24 days and spent 18 of them riding. I love mountains. I won’t compare boarding The Rockies with biking the Himalayas, but I relish the richness of riding wherever let loose.

Back east I wasn’t in VA long before Greg, Zach, and Andrew recruited me for a New Orleans venture. It was a first finding flip-flops a fit for January’s weather. My last experience of the city was during the November following Katrina and it was refreshing to find it much different then I remembered. While still deep in the south I made the decision to hop on board with Ross and Ian’s plans to head north. Adding the leg to Mount Tremblant in Canada meant logging better then 3.6 thousand miles on the ground over twelve days. I was glad to meet Ian’s friends and Canada gave me a new respect for hockey and snowmobiles.

Skateboarders sweaty from dominating the Church’s ramp look to me expectantly. How do I encourage them? “Life is not merely a buffet of career paths; there are more possibilities then we can imagine.” Sharing stories I see light dawning in their eyes. Interrogated by suspicious persons while stranded on the Karakoram Highway deep in the disputed areas of Northern Pakistan I read the 6th verse of Psalm 142 for the first time: Listen to my cry for I am in desperate need; rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me. They resonate with the story of Joshua risking that step into the Jordan – moving into The Land where he is not “safe” or in control. Hitchhiking back from North Carolina I became discouraged after 3 hours spent waiting in the same spot, but I read: “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us.” I stand with renewed confidence and Windy stops to taking me in and then 80% of the way home. The clips of Pop and I also strike a cord. Lastly they come to me sharing their own hopes, plans, and struggles; what an honor to be trusted with what is close to their hearts.

Stepping out is exciting and the support I’ve received providential. Sharing with passion opens to us life of a wholly different caliber, and I’m glad for the bit I’m able to contribute. I hope to tell a story older then my own but I’m learning how it goes, and believe the footage of Dad and I present a good framework for the tale.

His Peace,
-Jonathan