>A Short Recap

>In these past two weeks, I've seen things that words cannot do justice. I've seen a group of Jamaican people being nothing short of shining lights in a culture that does not accept the message that they are trying to preach. I've seen a youth group who spent months working day and night to earn enough money to take a trip, but donate every penny to their church's building fund instead, without being prompted. I've seen firsthand the power of satan and his attempts to interfere with anything God is trying to do, and I've seen God send angels to battle on His behalf and shoot down all of the devil's evil work. I've seen older kids befriending younger ones and raising the up to their level and including them in the group, despite how unpopular it may be.

I've seen mountains so grand they disappear into the clouds above and I've seen expanses so white it stings the eyes, broken up only by the peaks of rolling hills. I've seen the vastness of cornfields across the midwest and realized that somebody has to work all of that ground by the sweat of their brow to provide things we can get in a five minute trip to the store. I've seen skies turn purple behind Chicago high rises with the sounds of slide guitar soothing the ears of over 70,000 people. I've felt the scorching heat of the northern sun and the cooling breeze refreshing the land coming off of Lake Michigan. I've seen a group of people giving away thousands of gallons of water to thirsty crowds when they could have been selling it at 2 dollars a bottle, and I've seen fire trucks hosing the masses to prevent heat exhaustion. I've heard a multitude screaming the same melody as a man with a microphone with fists in the air or their hands clasped tight around a lover's. I've felt the rush of sharing a common unforgettable experience with complete strangers and the connection that any peron from around the world can feel with music and those listening. I've compared the cheap buzz of beer in the hands of irresponsible youth hiding in a corner to the bone-chilling cries of passionate lyrics driven by drums and guitars and amps and the hard work of people who will never get recognized for it.

I've felt the heaviness of the distance between two hearts that are connected by longing and the palpable excitement that accompanies coming home. I've tasted on my tongue the joy of getting excited about something that is, to some, petty, but others, sublime. I"ve felt time rush by in a blurr of jumbled experienes and images and emotions, and I've felt it crawl across the barren interstates in Kentucky.

And I've looked at all of this, the majority of which cannot be documented with anything but firsthand experiene, and been perplexed that someone could believe that it all just happened.

Hamilton Barber

The subject of this page is an introverted writer/musician/lunatic from Chattanooga, TN who dabbles in lexical dexterity, unorthodox thoughts on prosperity, and being overwhelmingly undeserving of the privilege of waking up every day. He hopes that everybody who reads these words takes them to heart and leaps higher than he ever could. He reads, thinks, and speaks too much; he listens, works, and loves too little; and he says “I” entirely too often. The words on these pages are not his: they are the words that were given to him.