One Score and Four Years Ago...

To break out of a cycle sometimes you need to break a (bi)cycle. That is what it took me four years ago today to recognize how dependent I am upon God. The fresh experience with grace, the grace of just being alive is something to marvel about. Finding myself with a broken bike, shoulder, ribs, helmet and hip I landed on the pavement, no place to look but up. Not able to depend on myself I was forced to depend on family, friends, and mostly on God. Grace is the only thing in general that breaks the cycle that demands justice. There is nothing new under the sun the preacher of Ecclesiastes states. Everything goes in cycles. We know this to be true with styles, but even more so, the root of the problems that man has experienced since the beginning of time have been the same as they are in 2012. We seek revenge for wrongs and payment for what is due. But when we receive grace that cycle ends. Meaning returns. Time no longer goes in meaningless cycles but Jesus comes in, solves the sin problem and then we are able to confidently travel through linear time where there is a hope of future glory at the end of the story. Pride still sometimes gets in my way of recognizing that my strength only comes from the LORD but when pride creeps in to my life then I have also experienced grace in new ways. Now the score (scar) that I have from the incision is still there to remind me not to forget. Four years and so much has changed but so much is the same. I still ride bikes, I still run, and I still have to daily remember the giver of life and trust the master surgeon. Yet, because of this experience I am forever changed. So I will not take for granted the ability to leap this leap year.

Same Kind of Different

This is one of those adventures that began as an idea thrown about in jest. On Monday I went over to the neighborhood of Pico-Union to meet with a friend. This friend is in the neighborhood as a missionary and has a great ministry to the teens who live in that barrio. So on Monday night I was invited to their dinner (slash) devotional (slash) hangout night. As an outsider to the community it was hard for me to really participate so much as I was able to just observe and to meet a few of the guys there. As I sat I reflected a lot on my own high school experience and the apparent disparity of the two. I did not grow up in the inner city where gang violence is common and where I had to worry about walking home at night because of who I might encounter. Also never have I seen friends who were so cutting at one another; everything was about one upping your friend, or putting him down, or blatantly telling him f*** you. So needless to say as the only other white guy with all the hispanic teens I felt a little out of place. One thing that one of the teens brought up was that they were going to Big Bear for the coming weekend. After they had all left Jeff filled me in on all the details and then jokingly told me that I should come. My response was, "Ha, how serious are you?" He responded by saying that well if you are available we could probably use you. I told him I was not busy this coming weekend and that he said that if there was a spot available in the car they could use me. Fortunately a seat was available for me.

On Friday evening I met up with the crew and we left for Big Bear. I didn't really understand what my role was to be given that I didn't really know what the agenda for the trip was, I didn't know what Jeff wanted to teach, I wasn't a driver, I didn't really know the teens...so what was my role again? My knowledge of Spanish doesn't do me a lot of good with this demographic. Although they would frequently seamlessly flow from English to Spanish and back again it wasn't any of the Spanish that I had learned in school that they were tossing around. The slang terms, quick speech and constant use of profanities in both languages made it hard to follow what they were saying in Spanish. Although the teens are proficient in both English and Spanish I was running by comical scenarios in my mind of how the kids from the concrete jungle, some who have never seen snow, would react to the new context. While we were on our hike up to Castle Rock some of the teens spotted the three-lettered inscription that is characteristic of gang tagging. They asked if there were gangs in Big Bear also. I would not have thought twice about what the significance of the spray paint on the rock meant had it not been for the teens. What a clash of worlds it was for them. The experience of the barrio connected to the forest. As I reflected more on the apparent differences between the worlds I became more convinced that they share more than they differ. On that note Arnold Berleant writes:

One can find a parallel between the momentary respite from immersion in the density of a city or wilderness either by the panoramic view from the observation deck of a skyscraper or a broad boulevard, or by the sweeping panorama one might obtain from a mountaintop, bluff, or tall tree. The aroma emanating from a bakery or restaurant might remind one of the odors of different vegetation or ground surfaces, such as pine needles or wet soil. The odor of decaying leaves or the effluvium of a marsh or swamp in the hot sun may resemble the smell of garbage containers on the sidewalk awaiting pickup or the exhaust of motor vehicles. Moving among buildings and along streets has some of the perceptual quality of moving among strands of trees and through openings in the vegetation. The background hum of traffic is reminiscent of the wind rushing through the trees when a front was coming through. Pushing one's way through a crowd resembles the experience of pressing through dense growth. Constant concern over making a misstep influences our passage through both city and wilderness, while the background apprehension of danger from motor vehicles and muggers parallels the constant threat, real or imagined, from the deadly creatures thought to inhabit the wilderness.

This is something that really struck me about the teens in general. My first impression of them is that they were tough as nails. I thought I would never get to see them become vulnerable always keeping an outsider like me at arms length. But what I found is that at their core, they are like any other teenager. When this became clear to me was when we went out on our hike to Castle Rock. 

Misadventure took its toll on the group early on the hike. We had hardly been hiking for five minutes and the group was all scattered like the dispersion, ice chunks were already being passed off as "snowballs" and one of the teens, David (not his real name) came cursing to the leaders complaining of a splinter ironically on his middle finger. David and Jeff (the leader of the crew) alike were determined to remove the parasitical plank of wood from the overused finger. Initially we tried to get at the splinter using only our hands. When we realized that the depth of the splinter was beyond our blunt fingers' capabilities we brought out the heavy artillery. Pocket knives and multi tools got volunteered from every leader you would have thought it was a magic show and everyone wanted to offer up their quarters for the trick. David was still loudly cursing like he was Aaron Rolston freeing his arm from its tragic position between a rock and a hard place. Persistent to not give up he would not let the leader stop. Eventually his cursing waned and his courage gained. After more minutes of tedious digging in his finger the elusive splinter finally was freed and somehow my mind saw the misfortune as an opportunity. I asked him, 

"David, do you think that you trust Jeff more now?" 

"Yeah, I do."

"Yeah you probably would have been pretty hesitant before this all happened to let Jeff fish around in your finger with a knife. I think that is like how God sometimes allows us to go through painful situations so that we can trust him more. We wouldn't arrive at the same level of trust in Him if we never went through painful experiences. So Danny, I want you to remember that when God feels distant in a situation."

"For sure, thanks." 

"Awesome let's press on."

And press on we did...slowly. Not without a few more near injuries however. When we finally reached the top of Castle Rock the view was magnificent. We ate lunch up on top of the rocks with the brisk wind bringing our picnic to a premature end. The teens had found a patch of snow that was in direct sunlight so that it was the perfect slushy consistency for making solid packed snowballs. Thus began a lengthy snowball fight. The feeling for me was ecstatic and I can only imagine that the teens in their rookie snow playing state were having a good time. I got somewhat bloodthirsty and could almost see a visible point system on the opponents’ bodies: 1 point for a leg shot, 5 for the chest, 10 for the face, and 500 bonus for hitting them so hard that there was a yard sale of gloves, hats and scarves. The fight lasted until everyone had frozen fingers and I called out a free-for-all-five-minutes. The descent down the mountain was met with more slipping, falling, and cursing. Nevertheless, spirits were high from the joy that boys can only get from hurting one another in a friendly fight.

Upon arriving back at the cabin my desire for being on the trails had not been quenched so I went out to find more of them on a run. I found them, and as I was coming back I was looking forward to a nice, hot shower. Upon arrival as the boys were heading down to the park to play a game of soccer. I was already warmed up and worn out but still played with them. Just about then the grey clouds rolled in making it colder still.  As we were playing Jeff called out I think it is snowing. At first I could see no sign of the “snow” but then eventually I caught a glimpse of the near microscopic flakes. The negligible trickle eventually broke the celestial dam and there were then giant flakes falling sideways so that one team was nearly blind from catching the snow in their eyes. The amazing thing about this was that there was no snow in the forecast. This anomaly was such an unexpected blessing for the teens, some of whom had never seen snowfall before. But even for me who grew up building snow forts, I had the same wonder about the intricate flakes of snow that landed on my shirt and slowly melted. They were all really different, but falling from the same cloud they were all essentially the same. Whatever our circumstances we are all that same kind of different. 

On Sustainability

The other day I was riding my bike around Boyle Heights. Now that is a daily occurrence but this day was a special event. I was dressed in business casual attire and I was on a mission. Well now you might be thinking, 'dressed up, riding a bike, mission...sounds Mormon to me!' I know, I sorta felt like a Mormon. But what I was doing was putting up posters at various businesses around Boyle Heights for Hollenbeck Christian Chapel (HCC). This is a church that Larry, the professor/homeowner/mentor figure to me is starting along with Calvary Chapel and Luis Salazar who is going to be the pastor of the church. The things that I admire most about Larry, the professor who owns and lives in the house that I live at are:


1. He is a visionary. I have seen on a limited knowledge of what the house looked like before he restored it. But what I do know is that it didn't look so hot. Now it is the envy of the neighborhood. He sees people and things and knows their potential. He does so within the context of being committed to what he does.
2. He is persistent. He sees the visions that he has and pursues them relentlessly.

That is something worth emulating.


On my mission I went to a few businesses around Boyle Heights and each was receptive to what I was doing and was more than willing to help out by having the poster on their storefront window. One stop I made was at Vicky's Restaurant. Vicky is our neighbor here and she is a sweet hispanic woman who speaks little english but communicates a kindness that transcends any language. Before I could even finish asking Vicky if I could put up a poster in the ventana she had me sitting down and had placed a big plate of chiles rellenados in front of me. I sat and ate with her son and with his friend and we talked about bikes and church and Boyle Heights. They seemed genuinely interested in attending the church. So I pray that we see them on Sunday night. I finished my dessert of some postre that I can only describe as a wonderful chewy and sweet flan-like pastry. But the taste that I had in my mouth as I mounted my bike to continue my "mission" was bittersweet.

There is but one word that has captured my attention in the recent weeks: sustainability. There are a lot of things that come to mind for different people when they hear the word sustainability, such as images of sustainably grown organic foods and sustainable energy sources. But I think that the definition of sustainability goes even deeper than issues having to do with the environment. Sustainable change, now there is an oxymoron. What is sustainable? Something that is sustainable is patient. Patience is a central quality to sustainability because when we live in the culture of instant gratification, there is no reason for waiting. When we are in a hurry eating we make choices to use plastic dishes and silverware and after we are done the remnants are discarded. Similarly, when we want results and when we are impatient in life we make decisions that unsustainable. But as I dine with my vecinos at Vicky's I had that bittersweet taste of knowing that this, this experience, this place is probably not permanent for me. I want nothing more than to say I will be here in this neighborhood for years and years but I am not convinced that my calling is to Boyle Heights. I know God can use me wherever I am but there is a great virtue in planting roots somewhere.

I kept riding and putting up posters at the places that I had on my list. There was a box on the checklist for:

 __ Wherever else you want, get creative

At that time it was right at dusk or "magic hour" in photography terms when the light over downtown is at such an angle that it creates brilliant colors and shadows. I decided that meant I should head back home. Wanting to put up one last poster I rode down first street in the luxurious bike lane painted in a bright, nearly glowing shade of green. The Homeboy Learning Center caught my eye...but I rode right by...and then doubled back once I gained enough courage. Homeboy Industries is a ministry that was started by a Catholic priest named father Gregory Boyle. His name coincidentally matches the place where he started his business/gang ministry. Both these characteristics: the gang members there and the catholic-ness of the ministry were what created the hesitancy in my mind to ask to put up a poster there. I went inside and the building came off as empty with no sign of activity other than a few lights on. I announced my arrival saying, "Hello?" with an older guero answering the call. I asked about the posters and he responded by saying that the learning center is a school and that he would take the poster and ask tomorrow if it would be alright to put it up given the public nature of schools. I half intentionally tried to get on his good side by saying that I loved father Boyle's book and his compassion and want to learn more about what Homeboy does (all of which is true FYI). I mean Father Boyle shows that kind of unfailing love that only comes from an encounter with the living Christ. So I left not knowing whether the poster would pass the inspection. I doubted it would pass the test knowing that the nature of hispanic churches is that they have a territorial nature. My thought was, 'oh well, at least I tried, hopefully I get at least a small pat on the back when I get to heaven.'

That bittersweet feeling of temporality makes me think about why it takes so long to create sustainable change in the community. The answer that I come up with is that facts are not just facts. Look at what Jesus did; he spoke in parables. In essence, he did not simply explain the truths about the kingdom of God, he told stories about the kingdom. People were not necessarily ready to hear the truths about the kingdom, so in order to create readiness for people to receive the truths he spoke in parables, in stories. Yeah this approach definitely took longer, but in the end what Jesus had done was create sustainable change. Some of us in the house were talking the other night about how we liked hymns, but even more than liking hymns, we liked hymns like Amazing Grace and It is Well that have epic stories that give the words of the song even deeper meaning. Stories involve wrestling with conflict. In the Psalms there are three categories of psalms: psalms of orientation, where God makes sense and his goodness is apparent, and then there are psalms of disorientation where God's ways seem to make no sense and his presence seems far off, and finally there are psalms of re-orientation where God has brought the psalmist out of the pit to a deeper trust in God. The psalmist most certainly understood why stories (characters overcoming conflict) create sustainable change.

God knew that one thing above all that was unsustainable for us as humans was keeping his law. You look through the Old Testament and you see a covenant with Abraham, Noah, David, and then finally we see that there is going to be a new covenant: an everlasting one.

Jeremiah 31:31-34 states:

“Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, declares the LORD. For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, ‘Know the LORD,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.”


Jesus also explains the sustainability of the work of the Holy Spirit to the disciples when they ask him,  "When the disciples heard [how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God], they were greatly astonished, saying, “Who then can be saved?” But Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:25-26).

So that is what it comes down to; Jesus' work of regeneration in the earth happens through His Spirit working in His people. Jesus says, “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father"
(John 14:12 ESV). He says this knowing that when His Spirit is poured out we can be Jesus to everyone that we meet. In essence, because Jesus was just one man we can now be in more places than he could be, reaching far more people, in every nation, we can do greater things than his earthly ministry. Woah. What that means is that we need to be united in Christ to accomplish HIS purposes on the earth.

So the next morning I went out on a run on one of my regular routes over the LA river and through the concrete woods of downtown. My concentration while I am running wanders much more than my feet do and I have a hard time keeping a consistent flow of prayer. But on this day I remember just being thankful for the blessings that I continually receive and reflecting on choices I have to make about the future. As I was heading back up first street back into Boyle Heights and following the neon green bike lane I glanced at the Homeboy Industries window. There in plain sight was a bright blue poster soliciting members of the community to attend the inaugural service of Hollenbeck Christian Chapel! Needless to say that put a little spring in my step because of the sheer joy of seeing that what unites us in Christ can be stronger than the differences that divide us. To God be the glory.

Collage of Occurances

Count the Cost

First of all, I apologize in advance for the sharp transitions and loose train of logic. Follow me...never mind that, follow Jesus.

Here's a small poem that I wrote under the inspiration of the 'Cost of Discipleship' Sermon by Mark Driscoll. If you haven't watched the sermon, look it up on youtube or on his mars hill website. It is nothing less than good logic. Here's my poetic summary of it:

Perilous path but no fear when it is all about dying,

Many may search for driftwood, not even trying, attack

Light the boat on fire, no turning back-

wards kingdom turned upside down,

Growth or decay.

Consume or contribute.

Do NOT quit.

Count the cost, go for broke, act not like a hypocrite,

The war is not won though the victor is decided.

Our wills become one through the grace of God inside me.

How do you expect to be the foot soldier if you can’t read the footnotes?

Living in the one grand story, the one that You wrote. 



While we are on the subject, something that has been great recently has been a (quote unquote) book club that one of my housemates and I started. We are reading 'The Cost of Discipleship' by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. So we have periodically met to discuss chapters and our reactions and applications of the text. Now, one thing that we have learned indirectly through the experience is the value in becoming a "regular" somewhere. We initially went to the local Boyle Heights coffee shop called 'Primera Taza' (spanish for first cup) and got into some good conversations with the owner while drinking coffee and discussing the book there. We discussed with him the unfortunate situation that confronts a lot of non-profit businesses which is the need to evaluate their effectiveness and results based on quantifiable data. That leads me to question:

How do you quantify relationships?

If non-profits like YoungLife and Boyle Heights native: Homeboy Industries value relationships as a desired outcome, then what statistical data can you use to get donors and other stakeholders in the organization to believe in what they do?

Tragedy.

Furthermore, relationships take time. I recently heard that a well respected prof at Biola does not do marriage counseling with couples until they have known each other for two years and two months. That, based on research, is the amount of time it takes to gets to know someone well, or at least in his opinion, well enough for the couple to consider marriage. Point being: relationships take time and patience is not merely waiting.

I mean the Paul writes:

What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. He who plants and he who waters are one, and each will receive his wages according to his labor. For we are God's fellow workers. You are God's field, God's building.
(1 Corinthians 3:5-9 ESV)

Sometimes I wish I could add to that: Paul planted, Apollos watered, Ryan added the miracle grow, and voila, God made it grow...instantly! Wouldn't that be nice, but that would be my terms, not God's. Still, I have no answer about how to measure results and effectiveness aside from quantity of people served. Ideas?

But anyhow, I mentioned YoungLife for a reason. Our house is hoping to start a YoungLife club for the high school students in Boyle Heights. The analogy that is given to explain what YoungLife does is, it is like an ambulance, whereas the church is like the hospital. You can't have one without the other. There are students who would walk on coals before they would step foot in a church, and those are the students we are hoping to reach. If I was to paraphrase John 1:14 it would be something like, "And the Word became flesh and blood and moved into the barrio, full of compassion and truth." That is our vision. The tutoring that we have already done has been some contact work in building relationships with the students. Contact work is over half the battle.

Bringing it back from a long chain of tangents, I was saying that we started a book club. And I met a dude the other day who is an intern for the Union Rescue Mission in Skid Row. So already what you know about him is that he spends a lot of time with the homeless. He has similar musical tastes as myself and he loves to read. So naturally I invited him to be a part of our book club and he eagerly accepted the invitation and joined us tonight in discussing the book. We were all reading from free books, so only the books are cheap, not the grace (that's a joke...Bonhoeffer writes a lot about the difference between costly grace and cheap grace). He had a lot to contribute to the discussion and then came to our house afterward because in Skid Row one spends a lot of time with people in the 50+ range and he wanted to fellowship with friends of a similar age (us). But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
(Luke 10:29 ESV)







You are the neighbor.

Running to Reality and Other Non-Fiction

Well then, life in the city. What should I say about it? There are infinite opportunities available at hand. There is diversity that is unparalleled elsewhere. One example of this diversity is the church called 'New City' that I have started attending. It lies right downtown LA only a little over two miles away from Boyle Heights and people from every background and socioeconomic status come together there. There are some Biola connections there, but for the most part the church does not draw the college crowd. The other Sunday many of the streets downtown were closed for an event called Ciclavia. Spanning from right near our house at Hollenbeck Park and stretching to east Hollywood there were nearly ten miles of open road for cyclists and other pedestrians to enjoy. And enjoy I did! Not only did I use the route to cycle to church that morning, but I also used the open roads to run. Now, there were not many others who were running during this time, but the ones who were out running I was sure to wave to them. I did what I do best and I ran, and I ran, and some cyclists were commenting that I was staying at the same pace as them as they were riding. And I made it to east Hollywood right in the bicycle district. There, some booths that were set up at the 'finish' and the Bicycle Kitchen is right there so I said hi to some people I know there. Then, once I emptied a energy gel I kept running right to Reality LA. Reality is another church that is right in Hollywood and it draws quite a different crowd. Most of the people there are people who are or look like they are in the film industry...young, beautiful, and well dressed. Now, I had some time before the evening service began at Reality LA so I decided to go to Starbucks and get a drink there, and then I went to 'Out of the Closet' a thrift shop where I found myself a pair of corduroys so that I could look somewhat decent for church even if my scent would say otherwise. At Reality Tim Chaddock preached a good sermon about everything under the sun (aka he preached from Ecclesiastes). Then I got a ride back home with one of the girls from our house who had come to Reality also.

Well we finally have begun tutoring...sort of. Last Monday I went to go tutor at the 'alternative high school' but the system was not all that organized and we weren't able to teach anyone calculus (of course I would have to re-learn a lot of what I 'learned' in high school'). But, we did get to talk with the woman who is in charge of tutoring (Lettie) and she inspired us to make a video about why the students should come to tutoring. Oh the benefits of living with three film majors!

I have taken advantage of filling the void that homework used to fill, by putting in some creative energies there. Poetry is the most recent manifestation of that. I don't know really what inspired the desire in me to express myself that way, but I do know that going to open mic nights on First Street right in Boyle Heights here has propelled that desire to become volition. Maybe I'll share some of it sometime...

Another night other music was heard from our house. There was some banda musica that was playing and so myself and another member of our house went to go and check out the source of the sound. One of the houses around the corner was having a party. We knew some of the guys who lived in the house and they let us come in and check out the festivities. We felt like we stuck out like we were wearing purple on St. Patrick's day. But members of our house slowly kept coming over to the party and eventually we gained enough confidence to step out onto the dance floor (aka a large section of carpet that was laid out on the backyard lawn). The style of the dancing that the exclusively hispanic partygoers were dancing to was unlike what we would normally dance to. And to have the younger crowd and their parents all coming together at the same party was equally seemingly strange. The age range there was certainly diverse.

All in all, this certainly is a unique time in my life that I will miss when it is gone. Fun, adventurous, and stretching in certain ways characterize this season. More to come soon. Critical Mass, a rather large bike ride is happening downtown on the 28th so I will be sure to send an update about which riders were dressed up as an apple computers in memory of their founder. Til' then.

-Ryan

White Wrists and Working with My Hands

I am approaching the wake of what I would describe as, "normal life." Everything is about to begin...I have a number of opportunities that are just about to begin. Starting this week work, tutoring at the high school, and other volunteer jobs commence. The fact that my days might just become super busy does not scare me or stress me out. During my time at Biola, I actually was more productive in the time that I was busy with running and with school and all of the other things I was involved in than in the times that I had a week or two of time off from running. There were more opportunities to procrastinate when I was not running...so that is what I did, Procrastinate. But in this stack of dry wood about to catch a spark there is a lot of me that is going to miss being free to explore the city by bike or by foot.

With my free time I have also had the opportunity to continue to learn skills and arts that I enjoy. I am trying to figure out what learning looks like outside of classes, credits and degrees. Even, how can I make myself more marketable for jobs that I am looking for without working toward a masters degree. Reading is one easy way that I have been able to get started at that. Reading books about Social Entrepreneurship or writing a lot might get pushed to the side as the clock begins to tic again. As for right now, it is somewhat on standstill.

On that note, something tragic happened. The band on my watch broke transforming a wristwatch into what is now an improvised pocket watch. There have been far too many times that I have looked down at my wrist only to find a pale silhouette of where my watch should be. I have only realized how much I depend on my watch in its absence. I live constrained by the grip of the minute and second hands.

Also, only after having to buy all my own food and not have the convenience and endless supply of food from the school cafeteria do I realize how much it costs to feed myself. I am starting to budget my expenditures looking at the past month and deciding what I can live without and how I can be increasingly wiser with my money. But fortunately this coming month my personal balance sheet will not be painted all with red, but with some green as I now have an income generating job.

So through the Bicycle Bread Company I have been able to meet some people. And one of the guys who works in the bakery there heard my story about coming to Boyle Heights and that I had graduated from Biola and was looking for work. It just so happened that his wife went to Biola, studied art there and is now working for an ocarina making business. You might ask, "what is an ocarina?" Well I am just beginning to grasp what one is also. Think an ancient flute, made from ceramics or clay that the only place that I had heard of one before was on the Legends of Zelda Nintendo game. Well, I like to play the harmonica, so maybe a four to twelve holed flute isn't much different...

As I am making ocarinas I am also listening to an audiobook. In it, the author talks about Romans 9:20-24 and I took a sobering look at myself and thought about how often that I think that God should do things certain ways. And then I think how foolish it is that me, the clay, should tell the almighty potter how he should mold and make me. I am inclined to think, 'well the analogy breaks down because clay is not a thinking being. But then I think that it is completely fitting because compared to God's wisdom and knowledge our thinking is like bricks, stones, or clay. I wouldn't do things God's way, especially I would never think of sending my only son to die for humanity.

The intricacies of making these instruments are subtle, and there is much to learn on the subject. The work environment is more than I could have asked for: friendly, classical music playing, learning something new every day, getting to know the other workers better, and as one of them put it..."sientete familia" it feels like family.