I’ve been dying for a studio version of this for ages.

Dreamer - Jon Foreman & Molly Jenson

Am I in love with the dreamer, or am I just in love with the dream? 

All Of God’s Children - Jon Foreman (High quality live recording, unreleased)

When the things that you can’t hold on to
Are the ones that you wish you could keep
Are you really ready to pay for love
If it costs you everything?

All of God’s children
All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

I believe in a world that’s beyond me
I believe in a world I ain’t seen
Past the glass, and shotgun shacks
Violent faceless racist facts
I believe in a world that’s made clean

All of God’s children
All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

Underneath these scars
Underneath these wars
Underneath the bullet holes
We still don’t know who we are
Just shining underneath
Shining underneath

Oh, I’ve been waiting for love to give birth
New life to show pain it’s worth
I’ve been waiting for peace on earth
Like a newborn child
Oh, like a newborn child
Shining underneath

Is there a well that won’t run empty?
Is there a friend that can’t be bought?
You’ll find them when you’re thirsty
Learn the lesson that can’t be taught

All of God’s children
All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

Please excuse the obvious fact that I had been crying, my hero had just played me Twenty-Four standing two feet away from me on the sidewalk. “Here’s a song for Alec!” I’ll always remember.

Working With Switchfoot.

Switchfoot’s crew is AMAZING. Getting to know Bobby, talking to Josh and Ryan and all of them, meeting their big manager - Bruce - it was all eye-opening, not to mention spending some time with the band themselves. What humble, loving, servant-hearted people. All of them. Bruce, who lives in Charlottesville, brought a whole bunch of kids to the Charlottesville show and let them each pick out a t-shirt if they wanted one. They were all pretty content, though, and only a few girls wanted shirts. I have a soft spot for anyone who loves and treats kids well, so that action really won me over.

One of the girls I ended out working with has been to 97 Switchfoot shows! (I thought I had been to a lot.) Her 98th will be in Lynchburg, where I’ll probably be working with her again. That’s some dedication! I watched Jon plan his climbing route in Charlottesville, which made me laugh. I always kind of thought it was spontaneous, but I guess that wouldn’t make sense. In Richmond, Jon played 24 for me on the sidewalk for the second time that night. I didn’t know he had already played it because I was packing up the merch, but he had apparently played it before I got out there. When I asked him, there was no hesitation, he just played it for me again. “Here’s a song for Alec!” And the little crowd pulled me to the front. What a fantastic feeling.

So much happened that feels almost sacred, and I don’t think I could type it all in this little box. I’m definitely looking forward to working with them again in the future. I’m happy to serve them, and happy to be forming these relationships. 

P.S. My birthday is tomorrow, ya’ll. No big deal. 

So tonight, Jon Foreman dedicated a song to me and sang it to me standing two feet away on the sidewalk. One of my very favourites, 24. He said “here’s a song for Alec!” I am SO happy.

I celebrated an early Christmas here in KC with one of my best friends.

We exchanged gifts and I cooked my famous pasta sauce, (which was promptly devoured - I’ve never seen pasta go so fast), we had sparkling grape juice in Quik Trip cups, hot chocolate and candy canes, chocolate covered cherries. We listened to a Skaggs Family Christmas (I miss Molly and Luke!) and Jon Foreman. I gave Kelly a couple of things, among them a giant Patchouli candle (she loves her patchouli) which was promptly lit. It was so much fun. 

That girl loves me so much that she gave me some HEAVENLY shorts from Anthropologie, one of my favorite stores I could never afford in a million years. That store is for looking, not buying. She also gave me one of top 5 movies, 3:10 To Yuma. I’d say the season is looking bright.  

"Son of sorrow
Staring down forever
With an aching view
Disenchanted
Let’s go down together
With the fatal wound."

The Fatal Wound, Switchfoot

10:15 PM October 20th, 2010

The open road stood before me like an old, weathered, greatly cherished friend. I’d been using the freeway my whole life. We’d become quite fond of one another. The sun had set an hour or so before, leaving the lingering warmth in the humid air thick and somehow comforting. It was oddly warm for mid-October. Normally I would be frustrated, as I love feeling the cold on my face, but tonight I bestowed upon it a half smile. I let the windows roll down and lazily draped my arm out the window.

The taillights ahead of me were blinking on and off, on and off as the drivers would occasionally brake to accommodate another vehicle, sometimes by choice and sometimes by instinct. Plenty of drivers were purely reckless. I sighed contentedly, Jon Foreman playing at a low volume. I wasn’t quite sure when I had turned it down, yet I did remember that I had wanted to hear the freeway breathe, if only for a little bit. I was headed back to my roots, to see the places I came from. I wanted to remember and cherish and discover again. Texas is a country of its own, my Texan pride will tell you that much. Acres and acres of rolling land for you to tumble out of your cars and spin into fields of blue bonnets, smiling up at the millions of stars.

Yes, Texas was a place of supreme beauty. I had not spent the majority of my life there, but it’s where I was born, and where my parents were born. I had a copy of the journal of one of my direct ancestors kept when he came to Texas from Germany, translated into English from the original German. It was deeply embedded in my heritage, the genetics of my being. I had Texas dust in my very cells. It was calling me to return and familiarize myself with it’s nuances once again.

I think a great part of me wanted answers. Why did I turn out this way? Why do I prefer this certain food? This flavor? What was the land whispering when I was born? Where are the places my story began? Do I still carry pieces of my homeland in the way I walk? Talk? Carry myself? Or has age, grief, and distance washed it all from me, leaving muddied canvas where they had once been a picture? I knew in my heart that this trip could not answer all of these questions. Some were asked in a way the land could not pretend or even hope to know. But simply being there would satisfy the unanswered feelings within me, feelings ignored and hushed like a curious child scorned, only because the adult the child had asked did not know the answers requested of them.

There were fireflies dancing outside. I only caught glimpses of them now and again, but they were beautiful. Lighting up against a dark, musky background, almost as if to say that just because there was darkness didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way. I turned the Jon Foreman CD back up, one of my favorite song’s lyrics slowly drifting through the speakers and embracing me as if I was a delicate little girl, bound to break if not cared for.

”And the words are new
But I recognize the tone
‘If you love her let her go’
She’s beautifully composed
A tune that only caged birds know”

It was so beautiful. The thought of loving someone so much, but willingly releasing them to make their own choices. I think there’s nothing more loving than true sacrifice in the name of another. I picked up my cup of tea, only a few drops remaining, and put it down again absentmindedly. My mind was wandering over summers past and forgotten evenings. Shaking it all off, I set my face forward. I was on a journey of discovery, and as each mile passed, each piece of land being set behind me, I knew I would be driving through the night. In the morning I would find myself the closest place I could call ever home.
(This is what happens when I go through old writings.)

"Here’s a story,
How a thief had been robbed,
How a murder had stolen my rage.
Think of me, Lord,
I’m a few breaths away
As my lungs finally rip from the cage."

Jon Foreman, Revenge

"You only get one shot with your bullet soul, I want to make all that I can out of my one shot. Life is not perfect or ideal. Life is full of messy, bleeding dreamers. That’s where things begin—broken hearts making a broken record. But that’s not the end of the story."

Jon Foreman (via kilamonstahh)

(Source: kilamonstahh-oldblog, via imawretchedman)

"

So here we are at the end of the world. And the beginning. Here we are at the dawn of the next generation. Y2K has passed us by. MLK, Kennedy, Elvis, Lennon, Cobain, MJ… they have all left the living. They have left us searching, wondering, hoping… I read the headlines, I watch the news. Iraq, Rwanda, Iran, Darfur, Tibet, Columbine, OKC… Towers falling, mothers, brothers, sisters, fathers… passing from life to death. We’re killing one another, destroying each other. Sometimes the state of the world can bring a man to his knees. It could make you cry. I get angry. I get overwhelmed. I give up… almost. Sometimes, I find myself staring into a blood red dawn, still awake from the night before. Still wondering why this new day has so much of the old darkness, the old sorrows, the old hatred. I feel so alone. I feel so alone in this world of pain.

All my heroes are the ones who ran after the higher vision, the news that stays new. We’ve been chasing lesser gods, gods who do not know our names, gods who will die alongside of us. The kingdom of the heavens does not come to us in our wealth, it comes to our in our poverty. Our money, our knowledge, our medicine, our sex, our privilege- these are double-edged swords, dependent upon our own shaking hands for guidance. With our two hands we build up and destroy, we hold and break the future. My own hands are shaking. I reach for the new day with fear and trembling. I’m reaching for a bird called hope, for the one true song who could bring me home. I’m waiting for dawn. I’m dreaming, reaching for the other side.

At the end of the record there is a reprise that goes back to the first song. For me this is a reminder of the repetitive nature of all that we call life. Wonder, surrender, joy, forgiveness, hope- yes, give us today the daily bread of our moment by moment existence. This life is so fragile- at any instance one of us could slip beyond this life into the infinite unknown. It’s as though every breath we take has been given to us on loan. We are surrounded by mysteries, miracles, wonders, and tragedies that we will never master. Yes, I will die one day- of this I am certain. But I’m not dead yet! No, tonight there is breath in my lungs- pushing, pulsing, yearning to break free… I will dream, for dreams are the seeds of what may be. I will wonder, for without wonder, how could life be wonderful? And I will sing.

Yes, until my pending death I will sing. In the face of indifference, I will sing. In the face of adversity, I will sing. I will sing about the pain. I will sing about the mystery. I will sing of the hope, the cage, the bullet, the winter, the dreamer. I will sing of all of these. I’ve seen miracles there in your eyes. It’s no accident we’re here tonight. We are once in a lifetime.

"

Jon Foreman, explaining the song “Red Eyes”.

When the things that you can’t hold on to
Are the ones that you wish you could keep
Are you really ready to pay for love
If it costs you everything?

All of God’s children
All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

I believe in a world that’s beyond me
I believe in a world I ain’t seen
Past the glass, and shotgun shacks
Violent faceless racist facts
I believe in a world that’s made clean

All of God’s children
All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

Underneath these scars
Underneath these wars
Underneath the bullet holes
We still don’t know who we are
Just shining underneath
Shining underneath

Oh, I’ve been waiting for love to give birth
New life to show pain it’s worth
I’ve been waiting for peace on earth
Like a newborn child
Oh, like a newborn child
Shining underneath

Is there a well that won’t run empty?
Is there a friend that can’t be bought?
You’ll find them when you’re thirsty
Learn the lesson that can’t be taught

All of God’s children
All of God’s children
Shining underneath
Shining underneath

- Jon Foreman (Switchfoot)

thebigrubberball:

Jon and Drew acoustic version of Dark Horses on a beach

Love this!

from LOBH

(via thebigrubberball-deactivated201)

helloswitchfoot:

Jon Foreman - Vice Verses

Where are you in my broken heart?
Everything seems to fall apart
Everything feels rusted over
Tell me that you’re there

I know that there’s a meaning to it all
A little resurrection every time I fall