What do I live for... and what would I die for?

It's not every day that I watch a television program that provokes deep reflection and even moves me to inner discovery. Tonight I did.

I watched two TV programs back to back and at first I didn't notice the significance of their relation. I'm not really sure anybody planned it to be that way.

The latter followed the crew of the USS Nimitz on deployment in the middle east and its various divisions; the pilots, the ordies, the airmen, the officers, etc. I really like this show because it seems to get honest and real, and feels uncensored if there is such a product these days. The first one was about the largest Japanese battleship ever built, perhaps the largest battleship of any origin ever built, called the Yamato, its crew and how it was sunk by US fighter planes. What stood out to me in this program was the portrayal of the sailors' perception of duty, faith and honor. From the sailors on board the ship expecting never to return from the fateful mission to the kamikaze pilots who actually aimed not to. My response to this reality was not unlike when I watched the movie Syriana. Both provoked me to reflection on what it is that I am living for and what it is that I am willing to die for. I certainly am not such a patriot that at this time I would die for the American flag. But if I felt individually called by God to serve a purpose and it cost me my life, that would be a different story. What moved me about this program about the men aboard the Yamato was that it seemed they were convinced of the significance of their sacrifice. Perhaps they expected an afterlife that would reward it, too. Without casting opinions about their beliefs, I cannot deny that this challenged me to really think about who I am amongst the bigger picture - of the universe. Questions arise in me; What's going to happen to me when I die? Could I die doing what I do for a living? Is it worth it? Why is my God 'truer' than his god? If what I believe is right, and another was wrong, why I am I so fortunate to have fallen into the Truth and other would die in deception, as convinced and motivated or more than I am?

The questions are still somewhat unanswered and that shakes me. I had not having an end to my wonder when it comes to things so significant. Life is so fragile, I'd hate to lose it an instant sooner that I found assurance. Don't get me wrong, I know God. But at times when He seems far off, or I far off in my arbitrary quest, it becomes easier to doubt and fear. God my desire is that you would speak to me unmistakably. Reveal yourself a little, make your will known, I beg it of you. Make some noise, shake things up and make a new lasting impression on me and those around me. But please, most importantly, have mercy when you come.

-kb

A Reflection on Music

Today I noticed I was reflecting quite a bit on my thoughts and experiences with playing music. Music has been a huge part of my life since I was a little kid. It started with listening all the time to oldies with my parents and became my own "pioneering" into a great big world. I actually remember listening to hip hop on my Playskool radio/tape player/microphone device in the bed of my dad's work truck while driving through downtown Avalon. I must have been about five. About 6 or 7 years later I would pick up the guitar and start to learn to play.

Over the years I have kept a pretty wide range of musical tastes and I truly enjoy jamming with other musicians. In fact, "enjoy" could be an understatement. It is one of things that I love to do most. It was in pursuit of doing this in my new hometown of Redding, CA that I found myself in an email exchange with another musician over the arrangement of a jam session. It turns out our goals aren't really compatible and we're not going to play together anytime soon. Here are some of the things I realized I believe about music through our communication.

1. Freeform jamming is my favorite. I've played in jams without an agenda and it made my heart pound and my hair raise up. It's about the chemistry and seeing where the music goes. Those were my most enjoyed times in music - ever. I can vividly remember times jamming in my bedroom at my bachelor pad with amps crowded around a full drum kit and players sweating in the heat of the crowded space. These were some great musicians by the way, just not a very glorious venue. A couple friends were hanging around and loving what they were hearing. Another was a latin-themed jam at an art gallery that I jumped in on the timbales and cowbell. All I did was play cowbell and simple percussion but my excitement was as close to a chemical high as I've ever been or may ever be. I was getting to jam with some talented and respected musicians.

2. The gigs over the years have been good/ok and enjoyable in their own right but they were always a letdown because nobody is perfect and that's what all of our practicing had hoped to produce. Afterwords we would always go "my guitar was too quiet" or "Jimbo was off time" or "the intro didn't come out like we practiced". I kinda think the Grateful Dead experienced a far less amount of disappointment than the average performing group.

3. Here is a list of some of the artists, in no particular order, that inspire me to play: Buena Vista Social Club, Cachao, older Santana, SRV & Hendrix, Toots & the Maytals, Thrice, Johnny Cash, Killswitch Engage, Al Green, Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, Jimmy Eat World, Sly & the Family Stone, Death Cab for Cutie, Robert Randolph & The Family Band, Wilco, Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin.

So, by the way, if you are in Northern California and you want to jam, drop me a line!

Anonymous Poster, Who Are You?

On Friday April 4 I received a comment on my Un-Hinged posting with an inquiry about missionary aviation. Unfortunately, that person commented as "anonymous", so I have no way of contacting them back other than through this blog. So, if this is you, please email me through my page at www.kylerburke.net. -KB

Tonight I Met a Guy Who Resembles "Daniel" from LOST

Alright. So I'm semi-ashamed to admit but Starbucks is actually a decent place to hang out. Yeah, so they've made some tasty drinks for quite a few years. And spread like a plague throughout the world. And conquered mankind. But tonight I had a good time. Not once, but two (2) times. I went in for a while and journaled and pondered and when my wife called me about 20 minutes in to being there, I went and picked her up and returned. That's when I met a interesting fellow who spoke some truths into my life not 15 minutes after meeting him and a bit later, after exchanging business cards and entertaining the idea of getting together with his friends, I left that conglomerate coffee dealership a more upbeat man. And no, I did not take in any caffeine! I guess I can't totally credit 'bucks for the evening (or at all) as they simply provided the venue. The Spirit seemed to have an agenda... to catch my attention and to say a few words. Among them, that I am "doing just fine" and that I'm "ok to be me". With my newfound permission to be Self, I am encouraged and hopeful. To God: If you started this kick, please don't stop it now! I truly hope that this "self" leads me to know You more! To the rest who might conceivably be reading this: if you're think I'm crazy/lame/pathetic, you are welcome to hit the Home button on your browser at any time. -KB

On Any Sunday

Tonight my wife, Krystal, and I watched Bruce Brown's 1971 film On Any Sunday. I had seen parts of it years back but never the whole thing. Since we are on a month trial of Blockbuster's online service, I figured "what've we got to lose?" I really enjoyed it. Motorcycling memorabilia from the 70s has always held a special place in my heart because that's when my dad grew up riding them on Catalina. I grew up hearing stories, envying him for his pioneer experiences and wishing I could have lived about 30 years earlier. In fact, there was at one time a "Catalina Grand Prix" where racers from all over would come a race a cross country course throughout the island. I think I remember seeing an old reel-to-reel of it when I was a kid, but it's one of those memories that I can't be sure it wasn't just my imagination or a dream. Man I can't wait to get another motorcycle.

Un-hinged

It's been a long time coming. The road to where I'm at, depending on which destination we're talking about, has been about ten years long. At least my spiritual road has - from the time that I consciously entered it. I was about thirteen and faith had been at my inner core for as long as I could remember. But it was that year I decided to make it mine. Or make it official.

There's much in between to say about all of this but for sake of time I'll keep it short. My wife Krystal and I now live in Redding, CA where the spiritual journey, er, road has been all but straight and boring. The word came to me yesterday, clearly and unapologetically.

My faith is about to become unhinged. As in... the lid is going to be blown off from the inside out.