Sometimes God takes you somewhere old to show you something new. And this has been the case for me throughout this trip. Living elsewhere for a little over a year, I have returned to visit my home state and I see it with new eyes. It has been wild. A wild combination of time spent catching up with loved ones, making new acquaintances, and playing music.
If you don’t know God, you really need to. In the past few weeks, He has proven His ability to be my provider. He is my shepherd and I am lacking nothing. When I arrived in California, I literally had $0.09 in my bank account. In my last post, I shared about how I left Oregon without enough gas money to get me to my destination. Since then, I have seen multiple bills paid and my gas tank has not been empty. When we are faithful to do our part, He is faithful to do His part. It is up to us to listen and find out what our part is. Again, it has been wild. Wild, wild, wild.
I am amazed at the favor I have here. I have never had so much favor. Each time I’ve busked on this trip, I have been astounded at the abundance of tips I receive. And not only the tips, but the connections that have been coming across my path. Divine, timely connections that come from being at the right place . . . at the right time. The other night, a picture of me was featured in the newspaper. I did not expect that.
I am not a professional street performer, nor would I consider busking my job. I have had days where I have gone out and tried to make it a job, only to strive and burn out. It is, however, always fruitful when I ask God where I am supposed to be and what time I am supposed to be there. (Call me crazy, I don’t care. I talk to God and He talks back.) Yesterday He told me to busk at a certain spot at five o’clock and stay for an hour. When the hour was up, I had a few dollars in my tip jar. This could easily be discouraging, but I’ve literally had money blow over to me in the wind before—basically, I was not worried. I knew I had been exactly where I was supposed to be, so I put away my gear and headed inside the restaurant I had played at. Before I could reach the door, someone called out to me,
“Oh good, you’re still here! We heard you earlier and wanted to give you something.”
The voice belonged to a grungy fellow I had seen multiple times throughout my set. He proceeded to extend a crumpled up paper towel toward me and quickly noted my look of hesitance, when I said,
“What is it? . . . “
“Oh, don’t worry, it isn’t a used condom or anything like that!” he said.
I was thinking weed—gross.
“You sounded really good . . .” he said, as he opened up the paper towel slightly to reveal a pile of money.
Happy tears, so many happy tears. It is a wonder that I have not become a puddle and drowned in my own joy. You see, the grungy fellow and his pals had walked by me multiple times during my hour-long set. They had walked by without making eye contact or causing me to think that they had even heard me. It just goes to show that you can’t always tell who is listening or being affected by what you’re doing.
Speaking of listening. My album is now ready to be recorded. Yes, the writing process is finally over. Though I do have my recording setup with me, I am secretly praying that an opportunity to have it recorded professionally will arise. Along with percussionists and a miniature orchestra . . . of course. I cannot wait to release the sound I’ve been working on for the last year.
This is a day by day journey. There have been days when I know where I’m going, and there have been days when I don’t know until I get there. By the way, California is not my final destination. I have the grand opportunity to travel to Iceland next month. I did not expect this to happen. The funny thing is that I could not leave Oregon without packing my winter clothes and passport—wild? The team leaves on the 10th of September, which is really, really soon. Please feel free to share my blogposts and funding page, as you feel led. Stay tuned for more details . . .