I went to a concert recently at a large, mainstream church. Usually I avoid large mainstream churches because, when in them, I tend to seriously consider killing someone - and I don’t think that would make God very happy with me. Plus, there is always the possibility that I will have to sit next to the person I killed in heaven and that could lead to some awkward questions.

But, this singer/songwriter that I love (www.andrew-peterson.com) was playing at a large mainstream church and since he has come to the Pacific Northwest a total of two times in the last five years we decided to go. AP was great!

However, the opening act is still annoying the crap out of me two weeks later. Instead of singing any number of good cover songs, or even better, any number of sub-par songs that he wrote himself, the man decided to cover Damien Rice’s The Blower’s Daughter. I love Damien Rice. I REALLY love that particular song. I just don’t think that, a) a song that ends with the line “I can’t take my eyes off of you….until I find someone new” is exactly appropriate to sing as worship to God and b) that one should change the above lyrics to suit their own purposes.

The singer said that he loves Damien Rice too. If that is the case, he should leave Damien’s songs the way they were intended to be.

The End.

Pete was the first Big Lie I can remember. I employed a working definition of a Big Lie as something that would get me in trouble, a lot of trouble, if my parents found out the truth. I was only 11 at the time, so my parents were the most common recipients of my lies. I met Pete at a church camp that I attended every summer. Like many such camps, this one was staffed with teenagers and college students who had good intentions, but a decided lack of life experience that would lead to practical out working of said intentions in the lives of those they led. I know this because I worked there for two summers later in life, but that is another story.

I told my parents that Pete and I were just hanging out at Wild Waves and that we were good friends. I told them he was a Good Christian Boy that I met at Good Christian Camp and they believed me. In truth, we were hiding in the maze at Wild Waves testing the limits of our sexuality without actually doing it. Because Good Christian Kids don’t do it. When we got kicked out of Enchanted Village/Wild Waves for “inappropriate conduct in a family setting” we moved our experimentation to movie theaters, malls, and of course, our bedrooms. We retained this arrangement for almost 10 years, through boyfriends and girlfriends, Pete getting kicked out of his public school for sexual harassment, even through Pete finally doing it with a friend of mine. At my house. On my trampoline. The last time he called I told him that we couldn’t hook up because I was engaged to be married. But I had to think long and hard before I uttered those words.