Thursday, September 15, 2011


I’ve mentioned Darrell Evans before on this blog. To say his music changed me is an understatement. He changed the way I worship, the way I viewed worship. I was probably around 14 when Let The River Flow came out. I’ve memorized every line, every fill, shout, and laugh on that album.

Last night I got to see Darrell play at a little coffee shop, The Circuit. My brothers and I played there a few months back. It’s a marketplace ministry near the University... a teeny little place, really. But run by a woman with a big heart. When JT found out that Darrell was doing a “home tour”- basically playing in peoples’ homes, churches, coffee shops, backyards, whatever- he called him right away to book him. The fact that Darrell actually came is huge. I mean, for us... just huge. Not because he’s some hotshot who can’t be bothered with the little people. Because... He revolutionized us.

So last night, I sat cross-legged and barefoot on the floor of a little coffee shop, and visited with God. I visited home. The minute Darrell opened his mouth to sing, I was back in my little bedroom, listening to the voice that had accompanied a thousand quiet times, crying times, singing times. I felt 14 again, unweary, full of faith, full of praise.

And I realized how very, very homesick I’ve become.

I’ve forgotten where I came from. Where I’m bound. I’ve padded myself all around with other things, drifting further away from where I belong. I’ve lost little pieces of my identity, had them stolen, or given them up willingly. And if I’ve wondered in recent years where I belong, this is why. I don’t belong HERE.

I’m not putting the focus here on Darrell Evans... and I’m sure he’d be the last person to want it. But by being who he is, a man who is attuned to God, a man who doesn’t try to pull people into worship- he simply worships, and because of his passion, honesty, and intimacy, we follow- he reminded me who I am. Who I was all those years ago, and who I still have a chance to be, if I turn my face back toward Home.

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