The Jesus Prayer

I've been doing a lot of hiking lately and clearing trails of blowdowns as I go. Small to medium-sized tree? Move it with your burly arms or axe the dickens out of it. Massive tree? Get out the chainsaw. Yeah, the one you've been carrying on your back (along with everything else) for the last 10 miles. Yesterday we were on a trail flooded in knee deep water for 5 hours, clearing blowdown after blowdown, and noting jobs too big for our three person crew. It was exhausting and so deeply gratifying and fun.

It feels inexpressably good to be on the trail in a beautiful place, doing the outward work of restoration even as it occurs inside. Sometimes my head gets filled up with anger, sadness, bitterness, or confusion about the more difficult events of the past 8 months of my life. I've been trying to recast those things in a more redemptive light as I ponder them, but the hurt is often too big for me to handle alone - so I've turned to Jesus in the form of an old, old prayer that people have been saying for centuries, beginning with the Desert Fathers of the fifth century.

My variation goes simply: "Lord Jesus Christ, having mercy on me." That's it. Over and over. And that kind of says it all. Jesus is Lord and the Christ. I need his mercy not only to heal my sin, but also to bring out the best in me. This goes along well with another prayer I've been saying most mornings: "Lord, help me remember the grace that you have given to me so that I can give it to others."

I feel the peace and purpose of God, and it is finally, increasingly well with my soul.

Prayerful Planting

My job this week, along with the rest of the conservation staff, has been to plant trees in burn areas from the big Ponil Complex Fire of 2002. Restoration and regeneration. Perfect!

I've thought about how St. Francis used to preach to the birds, and have so felt inspired to pray for each little tree (we're planting 5,000 - each with an unfortunately low chance of survival) to make it through the dry months and hold on for rain. I'm so blessed to have the chance to so intimately involve my body and soul in the physical regeneration of the land - an absurdly beautiful and direct metaphor for the work that God is doing in me right now. Hallelujah.

Arrived

Hey all. I have made it to Philmont. On the way I stayed with a friend in Fort Collins, CO and played an open mic, had dinner and good times with other friends in Denver, pushed on through the night to arrive here early this morning. Planted trees in a burn zone this morning, relaxed this afternoon.

The sky is big, the mountains are inviting, the air is fresh, the sage is fragrant. This feels a lot like home, but I know it now as preparation for a return to my truest home on Earth, Kansas City. Looking forward to quieted time in the wilderness, more celebration, and heart/spirit restoration. Love you each and all.

Address

Hey there. So for the next month, I'l be receiving letters at:

David Burchfield
Philmont Scout Ranch
Staff: Conservation
47 Caballo Rd.
Cimarron, NM 87714

email and phone are still in the game, but not all the time. hooray!

Ready, set...

Today I feel the thrill of expectation mostly buried underneath the mundanity of this windowless office day. Still, it bears noting that tomorrow is my last day at the office of IJM Guatemala, or IJM in general, for that matter. In a few short days I´ll be on the road West to Philmont, CO Springs, Denver, Telluride, then back East to Nashville, Smokies, Conway, Osceola, then back home to KC by July 4th. It´s going to be an exciting two or so months followed by the great journey of refinding a home in KC. I know these next steps in my life´s journey are at least as important as the last, and I´m ready for whatever challenges, triumphs, griefs, and joys may be coming my way.

Meanwhile I feel like I´m out of pictures, witty quips, and condensed stories or bits of wisdom. I´m sure I´ll be back on here to keep you all updated on where I am, who I´m rubbin shoulders with, and what foot-stompin tunes I'm playing. For now, though, I need to focus on packing, then unpacking, then repacking, then driving, then unpacking, etc....... You get the idea.

Further support for a life as a barely solvent (or not at all), nomadic musician

"I know nothing that is greater than the Appassionata [by Beethoven]; I'd like to listen to it every day. It is marvelous superhuman music. I always think with pride—perhaps it is naive of me—what marvelous things human beings can do!

But I can’t listen to music too often. It affects your nerves, makes you want to say stupid nice things, and stroke the heads of people who could create such beauty while living in this vile hell. And now you must not stroke anyone's head: you might get your hand bitten off. You have to strike them on the head, without any mercy, although our ideal is not to use force against anyone.

Hm, hm, our duty is infernally hard."

-Lenin

And that is why we should play music, make beauty, and do some things that make no sense economically or politically, but because they make sense to the soul.

I like mate

This is not posed.