David Crowder and pick-up sticks ...

I'm on a lot of e-mail lists. How I got on some of them is beyond me. Fortunately, I do not get a lot of what I would call spam as a result of being on those lists. Call it God's cybergrace.

Today I got an e-mail from Catalyst, which appears to be some sort of Christian media site. The e-mail included a link to a column written by David Crowder, whom I interviewed in 2006. He's a pretty sharp guy, I might add. He took the conversation in a way that had me off-balance.

In the column, Crowder notes that he and his wife live in an economically depressed part of Waco, Texas. That in itself is interesting, given that he probably makes oodles of money from record sales. Few Christian music"stars" (feels funny even writing that) truly find a way to identify with the least, the last and the lost. But what's also interesting about this column is that it concerns a conversation he had with the homeless guy who drops by to pick up sticks in David's yard, hoping to earn a few bucks along the way.

Check it out.

Grace and peace ...

Be in prayer for Steven Curtis Chapman family ...

The Steven Curtis Chapman family has suffered a great tragedy: Five-year-old Maria Sue was struck and killed by sport utility vehicle driven by her teenage brother.

I've interviewed Steven Curtis and ask that you join in compassionate prayer for this family that has extended so much compassion to others.

• StevenCurtisChapman.com opens this morning with a release concerning the accident.
• The Tennessean.com is carrying an extensive story and has a picture of Steven Curtis and Maria.
  

A quote from John Styll, president of the Gospel Music Association, expresses things well:

“I don’t know of anybody who loves his children more than he does and is so committed to the adoption concept, and to lose one, no matter what the circumstances, is heartbreaking beyond all comprehension,” said John Styll, president of the Nashville-based Gospel Music Association.

“He talks about his kids all the time. That’s his life. His kids are more important to him than music, that’s for sure.”

May the God of grace and peace comfort this family ...

You look familiar to me ...

As best as I can determine, it was Oct. 26, 1991.

Donna and I were seeing Rich Mullins for the first time at the Civic Auditorium in Knoxville, Tennessee. We were standing at our seats on the left side of the auditorium and it seemed the show was a little late getting started. This fellow walks past us in shorts, sandals and a T-shirt and as he passes our eyes lock. There is that moment when there is a hint of recognition and it seems one of us is going to say something. He smiles and continues walking ... up to the stage. I laugh, look at Donna and say, "That's Rich Mullins!"

He kicks off his shoes and sits down to the hammer dulcimer and begins playing.

It's a moment locked in my memory, though I can only guess at the date from a Rich Mullins timeline at www.audiori.com/richmullins/timeline4.html From 1991 until 1997, Rich only played two shows in Knoxville. I was at both and this incident took place at the first show.

I can also only guess that it was the same night that Rich's brother David cites in this interview with Rhonda Miskowski:

Rhonda: ...What is your funniest memory of Rich?

Dave: Him not being able to get into his own concert!!

Rhonda: You're kidding - do tell!

Dave: We were in Knoxville, TN, and right before the concert he decided that he and Michael Aukofer and us - me, Robin and Jonathan, should go to get something to eat.So we're eating at some restaurant and he realizes it's time for the concert to start. So it's pouring down rain and we run to the car and rush to the concert. I dropped Rich, Michael - who carried Jonathan like a football - and Robin off at the door and went to park the car. When they got in the door, the ticket taker wouldn't let him in without a ticket. And he told the guy, but you don't understand, I'm Rich Mullins. And the guy responded, yeah, yeah, that's what they all say. There was a picture on a poster in the lobby and they got it and showed it to the guy. So he finally got in. And Michael had to sneak on-stage because the Ragamuffins were already on stage playing. Pretty funny.

It's also pretty "Rich." His life was filled with such stories of not being recognized ... and even unique places of being recognized. And how it never seemed important.

Now, 13 years after the night of recognition/nonrecognition in Knoxville, I was reminded of it during a Todd Agnew concert at Knoxville Chrisitian Center. I interviewed Todd a little less than two weeks ago for The Daily Times and had brought a copy of the interview with me to the concert. I normally grab some meet-and-greet passes for me and my family and give the artist a copy of the interview. However, this time I didn't bother to get the passes and merely bought the tickets.

My daughter Elizabeth, her boyfriend Sam and I were standing with some members of my church's youth group in an incredibly long line that snaked through the parking lot. This guy walks by and our eyes locked, he smiles, I smile, and there was this moment of recognition and feeling that one of us was going to say something. He walks on and I laugh.

"That guy really has the Rich Mullins look down," I said, pointing to his black hair, bare feet and raggedy jeans. I also was struck by how much he looked like Rich, except for the heavy goatee-like beard.

Later, when he came on stage, I saw it was Todd Agnew. It blew me away.

I had paid little attention to his publicity pix.

And, like Rich, it really didn't seem to matter to him, anyway.

Grace and peace.