Listening Whiskey
Certain settings make you really uncomfortable.
Others, can be thrilling, captivating even. Some though, leave you in a stunned state of mind, really, unable to grasp it.
This past week I was in Denver, Colorado (a very, very cool city by the way) for the national meetings of the denomination I'm a part of, the EPC (Evangelical Presbyterian Church). I spent most of the week surrounded by men and women who are much cooler than I am, so much more talented than I, and seem to be even more passionate and given to their cause than I think I can ever be to something.
You learn to respect others as you age. You realize what the legacy of a lone pastor in Warsaw, Indiana is, and how much more impressive that is than whatever I'm doing right now will ever be. I found myself walking aimlessly around this giant assembly of men so impressive, I felt kind of lost for a day, not able to see how I could ever amount to anything quite like this.
And then, with the light of a cigar, and the pour of a bourbon, it all changed.
One night I hung close by my father, suddenly feeling like the 5 year old that used to cower behind his leg at the approach of strangers. We came upon a circle of men on the hotel patio enjoying the smell of Domincan tobacco, the sweet subtly of Maker's Mark, and the cool Colorado air.
Friends of my father, I then realized how far his name reached. How influential his voice is. How so many call him friend.
Still the bashful child of 25 I guess, I kept quiet. Lit a clove and drank my beer intent on just listening to men.
From the talk of the goings on of the assembly, the frustrations of life, to the freedoms of hobbies in golf and corvettes...this night was turning, incredible.
Our circle widened. More joined the discussion, until the cigar box gave up its final offering. At that point, I gazed around the circle, and realized whose company I was in. Leaders of educational insitutions. Pastors of hugely successful churches across the nation. Leader upon leader, men who have done something. Many things. Oh yeah...and me.
What the heck am I doing here?
Isn't there some other place I should be right now?
Wait. Here I go. I'm going to try and say something, enter into the conversation, open my 25 year old punk mouth, say something funny...
They laughed! Ha, phew.
A king has his hearth. The fire in which he shares his life with freinds and guests, food and wine flow in the presence of greatness.
That night a young punk shared the hearth of the Colorado sky with men much greater than himself. And with the puff of a cigar, and the sip of whiskey, I just sat with my mouth shut...and listened.
Others, can be thrilling, captivating even. Some though, leave you in a stunned state of mind, really, unable to grasp it.
This past week I was in Denver, Colorado (a very, very cool city by the way) for the national meetings of the denomination I'm a part of, the EPC (Evangelical Presbyterian Church). I spent most of the week surrounded by men and women who are much cooler than I am, so much more talented than I, and seem to be even more passionate and given to their cause than I think I can ever be to something.
You learn to respect others as you age. You realize what the legacy of a lone pastor in Warsaw, Indiana is, and how much more impressive that is than whatever I'm doing right now will ever be. I found myself walking aimlessly around this giant assembly of men so impressive, I felt kind of lost for a day, not able to see how I could ever amount to anything quite like this.
And then, with the light of a cigar, and the pour of a bourbon, it all changed.
One night I hung close by my father, suddenly feeling like the 5 year old that used to cower behind his leg at the approach of strangers. We came upon a circle of men on the hotel patio enjoying the smell of Domincan tobacco, the sweet subtly of Maker's Mark, and the cool Colorado air.
Friends of my father, I then realized how far his name reached. How influential his voice is. How so many call him friend.
Still the bashful child of 25 I guess, I kept quiet. Lit a clove and drank my beer intent on just listening to men.
From the talk of the goings on of the assembly, the frustrations of life, to the freedoms of hobbies in golf and corvettes...this night was turning, incredible.
Our circle widened. More joined the discussion, until the cigar box gave up its final offering. At that point, I gazed around the circle, and realized whose company I was in. Leaders of educational insitutions. Pastors of hugely successful churches across the nation. Leader upon leader, men who have done something. Many things. Oh yeah...and me.
What the heck am I doing here?
Isn't there some other place I should be right now?
Wait. Here I go. I'm going to try and say something, enter into the conversation, open my 25 year old punk mouth, say something funny...
They laughed! Ha, phew.
A king has his hearth. The fire in which he shares his life with freinds and guests, food and wine flow in the presence of greatness.
That night a young punk shared the hearth of the Colorado sky with men much greater than himself. And with the puff of a cigar, and the sip of whiskey, I just sat with my mouth shut...and listened.
posted by Philip Letizia at
10:50 PM
3 Comments:
Sipping an elixir which makes the heart glad with men who have given their lives to seeing hearts embrace the Kingdom...great stuff man...cherish those moments - we'll look back on times like that and shiver.
By
Adam, At
2:43 PM
isnt that what makes us want to work hard? seeing others excel in what they do and just knowing that their words and actions leave an unforgettable impression on others is amazing! you will one day find yourself causing some newbie to the jesus world to stop in his/her tracks!
By
Anonymous, At
7:26 PM
=) ...
By
Philip Letizia, At
8:28 PM
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