Bethel Church.

Two weekends ago I spent some time at Bethel Church in Redding California.

Many of you have been asking how it was.  Apparently word has been getting out about the miraculous things that are happening at this place.

I went for many reasons.  I do want amazing things to happen in peoples’ lives, and I had heard that amazing things were happening there.  I’ve also been looking at ministry schools, and they have one which my friend Phillip attends.

A great opportunity came up to go with my friend David, who needed to take a trip up north anyway.  It worked out beautifully.  David and I made the 8 hour drive from Los Angeles with high hopes.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect; I’ve heard about people being healed from cancer, blind people seeing, and deaf people hearing.  That’s not something I’m used to, but those are the stories coming out of there.

I knew I couldn’t expect Bethel to look “normal” because of the extraordinary things I’d heard were happening there.  So when I saw people rolling on the ground laughing, and others twitching because they were affected by the Spirit, I tried not to judge it.    I saw people laying hands on each other to pray for them.  In one sanctuary during a healing prayer session a woman came up to the microphone and shared her story.  “The doctor told me that they were going to have to operate on my knee.  I told him I don’t accept your sentence.  I came here and the Lord healed me!”  She shouted this as she jumped up and down and danced.  Then she grabbed the mic again.  “I wasn’t able to walk up stairs, now look at me!”  I stared at her, amazed, and thought to myself, yeah, it’s weird, or rather, it’s different then what I’m used to.  But people are being healed.   I’d rather it be different and people be getting healed than a service I comfortable with where nothing happens.   I saw another woman who’d received healing dancing with her cane because she no longer needed it.

My friend David and I may not have received healing for ourselves that day, but we left hopeful, and feeling greatly blessed.

Check out the stories yourself if you want to hear more: http://www.ibethel.org/site/testimonies

It’s not about what we do.  It’s what God does through us.  We just have to allow Him.

“Passion and the anointing run in parallel courses. A person with passion will take risks. Everything you want in the realm of the Kingdom is found through this veil of difficulty by stepping into the realm of inconvenience. You don’t get it by coasting on yesterday’s breakthrough. You were born for expansion.”

-       Bill Johnson (Pastor at Bethel Church)

Dolphins and Venice Beach

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Venice beach California

Matt and I stopped in at the Santa Monica office to pick up his permit so he could act  as a street performer in Santa Monica.  We then met up with Matt, and Remy on Horizon street,  the four of us guys waited for some time for our long haired female friends.  After a few minutes and some charges of brain functions we headed over to the beach.   It was a beautiful and perfect day.  Katrina showed up, our very fun Australian beauty.  She laughed as she told me a story of how a car got in a small crash because the driver was paying more attention to her then the road.  “You say that with a very devilish smile Katrina.”  Remy remarked as Katrina laughed.  Soon some slow fella from the O.C. would try to use his best surfer vocabulary to pick up on her.  It didn’t work.

As three of us guys where throwing the Frisbee I heard my name…”Sean!” I turned to see Katrina pointing.  “Look in the water… Dolphins!”  The frisbee fell into the sand as our attention and changed and our eyes peered out over the ocean. I didn’t see anything but rolling waves at first.  But then sure enough, three of four dolphins where jumping up and playing in the water.  Not a hundred yards from where we all stood together pointing as the Dolphins jumped.  We were like children. “Did you order this Katrina?” I asked as if she had a heavenly connection on the wonders of our world.  We watched them for sometime before we returned to the Frisbee.

My friend Mr. Tate said ” I think this is the first times I’ve ever put my feet in the Pacific… I’ve been here for years.”   I was honored to share the day with him on such an occasion, and amazed as well that he had not yet done so.

It was later that Katrina, Remy and I would walk to a roof top restaurant called high. It stood at the top of a Hotel a quick glance from our spot on the beach.  Remy had a friend who worked there, and wanted to stop in.  It was beautiful, the view overlooked the buzzing beach sidewalk bellow, you could see far out toward the faint line of the Horizon.   The grassy nulls  bellow disappeared into the sand and palm trees.  A friend of Remy’s bought us a round, and we sat back on the comfortable couches like  Hollywood VIP’s. We scanned our surroundings and Thanked God for such a view, and for such a day among friends.

As the evening wore on and people started to Leave, Matt H. the performer, our other friend Morgan and I stayed and watched the sun go down on the beach.

A beautiful day in the much sought after southern California.  Much Thanks all for a very lovely day.

within those who believe

Sitting on the living room couch of my old apartment in North Hollywood, the loose blinds allowing strips of lights to come through, I can hear the soft hum of cars driving on the roads outside, wet from the rain. It makes me feel a bit more comfortable being inside where it’s warm. Funny how it is when you can see things outside of you for what they are; it can make you feel glad for what you have within.

I’ve been reflecting a lot about this weekend. It’s tuesday morning, and the weekend still weighs heavy on me. The reason is because I experienced things that I will not easily forget. But more than that, I found that as I continue to grow in knowledge and wisdom, there is more and more room for me to grow. As I seek after God, I become hungry for more of God, and the more I discover the more I want to discover and find the more there is to be discovered. It’s like coming up over a hill because you’re curious at what’s at the top. Once you get to the top you see that there is a sprawling city below you and mountains in the distance. There is so much to be discovered in this wonderful land. How much more is there to be discovered in the things of God?

My roommate and I went for a little walk yesterday to get some groceries. He was asking me some questions that led to the topic of the culture of heaven. “Matt, do you remember when we went to Spain, and in the village library we were trying to work?” He nodded and smiled because he knew what I was getting to. “Then we ended up being kicked out of the library at 2pm because they needed to close down for siesta!”

To us that was crazy. Because we had an American culture. Who closes anything at 2pm in the states? Our American culture was so a part of us that this idea of stores closing everywhere at 2pm seemed nuts. We had work that we wanted to finish for Pete’s sakes!

As believers in Jesus and followers of his way, When you surrender your life to the living God, you start being influenced by the kingdom culture. And things don’t make sense to the earthly culture, but make total sense in the kingdom… even things that are impossible to man. As Jesus said in the book of Mark “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.”

The kingdom of God holds the realm of possibility. It is unseen by most, and it dwells within those who believe.

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Having anything you imagine.

I once stepped into a white space. There was nothing around me but white. I don’t know how I got there, I just knew that I was. I just knew that I was. In this Space, I was able to have anything I could imagine. I simply had to imagine beyond the white space. I wanted to sit and think for a moment, and suddenly, there to my side, was a chair. I sat and thought. I closed my eyes, and I allowed my thoughts to drift in. Whatever could come to my mind came. I imaged I was in the center and others were around me. They seemed to be waiting for me to say something, but nothing found it’s way to my lips. There was nothing because my imagination was limited. I was justifying and wondering what they were thinking I might say. If I said nothing they would always be curious. If I said nothing there would be no mistakes; I could never fail. I opened my eyes to the white, just me and my chair. I was glad I wasn’t in the center with nothing to say. I stood up wanting to walk. There was no need for the chair anymore, so I blinked and it was gone. A path appeared before me. As I thought of the things that I liked, I could hear the birds singing and from the white, like fog, trees emerged. There was a breeze that softly swayed through the trees. The path seemed to rise to meet my feet and I pressed on unsure of exactly where I was going, but glad for the simple fact that I could walk. I wanted to see a lake, so as I walked a clearing of trees opened up to a lake that was calm and tranquil. The sun was bright and beautiful with just a few clouds in the sky because I like clouds. I desired to rest, so I let my body drift down to a soft patch of grass. Slowly I felt myself sink into the earth inch by inch. I sank drifting downward until I could open my eyes and see a hole that my body had formed. I felt protected like in the cleft in a rock, as if I was in the arms of a loving mother, my mother, and that she was the most loving of all. I felt comfortable and small. I sensed that there was nothing for me to do; just simply be, to rest, and to know that I was. I thought about God and what he made, about the minds of man and creativity, and imagination. I loved the grass he made and the trees and the breeze. I don’t know why I liked it, no… I loved it. I don’t know why, I just know that I did. I allowed myself to drift back upward, inch by inch I made my way to the surface again. The earth below pushing me up. The soft grass beneath me came back to the level ground. I laid on top of the grass now, the lake near me and the sun warming my face. Then, I opened my eyes even wider and found myself in the center of a group of people waiting to hear from me as if I had something to say. I looked in their bright and curious eyes, and smiled. I opened my mouth and spoke.

When Tumble weeds were younger

Driving through the snow-covered desert somewhere between Oregon and Idaho, I was reminded of a much simpler time.  The days when tumble weeds were younger, the brush held rumors of Indians, and America was wild and wide-open. My mind played with the idea of living in this time, riding horseback and avoiding scratches with bears or large cats. The hum of the ’96 Chevy pickup truck softened my stare out the window as we trudged along at a grueling thirty-five miles per hour. My mom slept in the backseat as my dad and I talked politics behind the wind shield and grew comfortable with spaces of time we shared between mile markers. I think that both of us were surprised that the roads were worse after we got through Donner’s pass.  Named after the infamous Donner Party where the worst parts of winter lead to cannibalism.

We pulled into a pit stop gas station with, “Happy Birthday Jesus,” written on the front window.   My dad climbed out and started toward the pumps, When a modern day cowboy gas attendant moved passed the front of our truck with the swagger of hero and a scarf tied around his neck. “We must be in Oregon” I thought to myself.  He swept in politely pushing his way in to pump gas,  with what seemed like a cool exchange of words.   I Slumped in the passenger seat exhausted with travel, and somehow content with it.  Their voices mumble  outside the cab, I could hear my dad still talking politics. He assumes that anyone with cowboy boots and a hardy handshake is someone who agrees with him and can be trusted. Idiots don’t wear trusty cowboy boots I suppose.  Sometimes my dad will ask me tale tale questions where the answer will It was cutting into the early morning and I was getting sleepy. I searched for a comfortable spot with my pillow between the headrest and the window, and drifted to sleep.

My Imagination takes over.   I start thinking about the time in a mans life when his word stops being his word and starts being air and sounds, and where I was in my life when that happened to me.  I hope that it was just for a very brief time, and left for good.  I’m reminded that  even though nothing maybe new under sun, that mankind for the longest time has done both great, and horrible things.  And we confuse the two and leave history to sort out the mess. It that’s true, If time is linear, if the old get older, and if the second law of thermodynamics is true, then this time that we have, is very different from the past, and very similar in that it is of utmost importance. How we live out our day to day lives, colliding with others, trying to make the exchange great, and not horrible.   I drifted to sleep, and looked forward to the rest.

If my thoughts are wild terrors in my mind I must take them all captive before they make a mess of the place.

A Festival in the forest.

I went on a camping trip to a place by the sea surrounded by beautiful rolling hills of green and clouds that reminded me of the big skies of Montana.  The clouds seemed to hold such power and majesty.  They held back the rain and the full force of the sun in an almost aggressive restraint.

Through the English countryside, we drove down a road that pointed to the sea. I saw only a glimpse of its blue between the hills. The rhythm of the car, the chatter of Ryan and Key in the front seat, and the beautiful view of green and blue passing by my back window was just enough to lull me into a comfortable sleep.

I woke up a short time before we made it to the camp site.   We would spend all of the day there before returning to Sheffield in the night.

We parked behind a line of cars that packed into a long driveway, blocking anyone who wanted to leave.  Two other people arrived at the same time.  A mother of the daughter who had come to celebrate the birthday party.  The woman’s  daughter had with her a scrappy little dog that would pull at the  full length of his leash, tugging as they walked.  The dogs in this country seem to lack manners.  We exchanged informal greetings as we unloaded our gear and started our descent down the hill.  Ryan let me borrow a very nice pair of hiking boots–I was delighted and thankful.  The ground was muddy in places from raining the night before.  Down in the yard, there was a dark figure of a man blurred in my peripheral vision as I eyed my way down the steps figuring out the sensation of the new boots I wore.  They were a little stiff and not laced up equally as tight on each foot. The excitement to get down to where the music was booming in the winds stifled my focus on proper shoe lacing.

The figure belonged to the owner of the property where the “festival” was taking place.  And here, we properly introduced ourselves to the two women with the scrappy dog and the father of the Birthday girl.  I didn’t know that, later, this gentleman and I would have a great conversation of life, passion, art and gifts.

On the way down, the  woman went on to tell me that she and the owner are no longer married to each other, in case there was any confusion.  I nodded in acknowledgment, unaware of “any confusion” and now, feeling a bit confused as to why she may be telling me this bit of information.  We padded down the muddy hillside road.   It wrapped around a beautiful view.  We could hear the music better and the tops of tents were now able to be seen beyond the tops of the trees.  Small talk guided us the rest of the way down until we arrived.

Hugs, smiles, and hellos were welcoming greetings.  For the first time since being in England, I received a hug from someone I had never meet.  It made me feel instantly a part of the group.  To an outsider like myself, it probably looked like a hippie commune–people dressed in ridiculous hats and costumes they had drawn out of  a bag full of thrift store clothes.  We all had to pull out something ridiculous to wear.  There was a gentlemen named Ben who was wearing a red and white tiny polka-dotted dress that looked like a kilt with his hairy legs.  Another guy was wearing an 80′s work out swim suit outside of his clothes–something you would see in a Jane Fonda work out video, only over blue jeans instead of tights.  The women were dressed up as well, in ridiculous dresses over the top of much warmer clothing.  Ryan and I put on outfits.  All that was left was a lion mask that Ryan took as I donned a woman’s blouse with a tie and a flip collar I somehow thought I looked more cool in.  Wearing the clothing meant we were here to play their game.  People seemed to ease into us more freely.  We ate with them, drank with them, laughed with them.  We kicked around the football (soccer), rugby ball, and Frisbee–keeping all of them going at the same time worked different parts of the brain.  The fire  several yards away from the tent was a joy to me.  A camp fire is about 80% of camping.  As the night wore on along with the drinks, we played music for one another, each taking time to play about 3 or 4 songs.  Ryan and I did a musical improv number that went over very well and ended with a great ovation.  I am very proud of Ryan and his boldness and quick learning ability.  He has only done 4 classes with me and a few private practices; already he is doing quite well performing the improv and is a natural at song.

I am so glad Ryan invited me to the “Doosh Fest”.  This has been my most enjoyable connection of people outside of MB Sheffield, some of which will be coming to Monkey Butler Monday after getting to see the fun.

I was among doctors.  It was beautiful to watch them behave like children.   The costumes made us feel like we were all ridiculous together and weren’t going to take ourselves too seriously.

As the sun started to go down, some of us were standing around the campfire.  I was offered a joint and politely declined feeling even more accepted.

When the sun disappeared, fire dancing emerged.  I watched as flames of fires moved rhythmically outside the clear plastic tent windows.    I was mesmerized at the precision, danger, and image of it all.

We left taking with us hugs, pecks on the cheek, and a fulfilled experience.  I left behind flyers to help remind them in the hazy morning .  I enjoyed the Sheffield beer we drank.  I also had a guineas for my brother.

Leaving London

I hugged Nats goodbye after we both ran to get to the coach. I feel if you’re not running to your next destination then… you’re really not living in the time that leads up to that point.  So, if that’s true… I’m really living.

I climbed aboard the bus (or coach as the Brits say)  with hardly enough time to take in that I was not going to see her or Isaac that night for supper or evening tea.  The bus driver right behind practically pushed me into the bus. As he closed the doors tight behind me,  I just had time to put my belongings away and sit down before we pulled away from the city of steel… Sheffield.

Nats had told me it may be hard to say goodbye since she cried when Diggery (the dog) was put in a kennel for a weekend Holiday.  I was surprised when there were no tears…humm… I blamed it on the fact that there was no real time to take in the departure, as we were to rushed for tears… at least that made me feel better.

I was with them in their home for almost two months. I got to know them well and appreciate them greatly.  We laughed, shared, argued…we did life together.  And our lives became more rich with each new bit of insight from one another.

I fell asleep on the way. God has given me a gift to sleep when I’m bored, which often got me in trouble in school, and why I don’t do church much. So, I don’t get bored, I just go to black… and then come alive.

I talked to no one on the coach. I was probably the youngest person aboard.  There were wisdom and white and balding heads all around me,  I didn’t dare speak… or I would have to fight sleep, and I’d rather not.

The scenery on the way to London… I couldn’t believe that the city was just miles away, I couldn’t see it, and you never would have questioned it by looking out the large class windows.  The green country side pushing by.  If you have never gone to England, go.  Bring a water-proof jacket, get used to milk in tea, and try Marmite (yeast extract).  You don’t have to like it- you just need to try it.  And for the English…. TRY PEANUT BUTTER and JAM! (Pb&Jelly to Americans)  If you don’t, your missing out on one of the mysteries of the universe just because “it sounds weird” to you.   Try it, and prepare to have your eyes opened to a new and colorful world, where shades of gray fade away.  You wonder why the British seem more grumpy, and Americans over confident…. the secret may lie in Peanut butter.  A good balance may bring about the most sophisticated and confident man or woman.

The couch stopped and after a couple of hopeful leads I got to the city bus and told the bus driver where to go.  He smiled with dark glasses, I couldn’t see his eyes, chewing his gum as a cow chews cud and stared at me as if I was the idiot he had been waiting for.  “I don’t know where that is.”  He was half smiling as he said it.  I could feel the line of people out the door waiting to board.  And I looked at him, looking at me trying to figure out who was going to get off this bus.  Apparently, it wasn’t big enough for the two of us.  I pretended to know more than I did and stayed on the bus.  I ended up getting dropped off at the Marriott hotel because he really didn’t know where the “Travel Lodge” and Heathrow central was located… and no man should.  It’s a depressing slapped together Ikea show model motel, posing as a hotel ( it actually is a hotel, but I think the word Motel is an insult to hotels) The Travel Lodge MOTEL was the thorn in this side of town. I switched rooms after discovering the plugs didn’t work and there was just one plug in!  I had no phone in the room, the wi-fi wasn’t free, and Now since I had to take two different buses to get this waste of plywood,paint, and Plexiglas of a building, I had less than 5 pounds to my name.  It wasn’t enough to get dinner, nor was it enough to get the shuttle in the morning to the airport.

I sat in the room alone sulking as the sun went down, an ugly building hid the suns beauty, so I had to just enjoy the sun rays and the color of the sky. I sipped on tea, cause they had a tea kettle in the room but no phone.  I began to not like London,  I couldn’t see Big Ben anywhere I looked or anything that resembled a modern, thriving city.  I began to wonder if the newspapers, magazines, and movies had lied to us all this time.  I looked at a building and wished Guy Fawkes were there about to succeed at what he failed at.  But of course I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.  I was just a volcano steaming, and too tired to erupt.  I was hungry, tired from traveling, broke, and alone.

I later discovered that when purchasing my airline tickets, I had apparently signed up for some type of rewards in the black print. I was unaware that these “rewards” slowly and stealthy would bleed dry my checking account, withdrawing monthly, even closed out one of my accounts when it emptied it of funds and then, began to empty the next account.  So, my Master card was a mere piece of plastic, good only for scraping windows on cold frosting mornings. I had some money in paypal but no way to access it.

I began to think that London hated me, perhaps was trying to keep me here to devour me, destroy my communication, and kill my spirit.  I’d be damned if I was going to let that happen.

I had some potato chips and a couple of snickers bars, that became my supper, I took a shower and washed the travel off, and watched a movie on my lap top I hadn’t seen… I prayed to the God of my youth, and a flicker of hope began to burn within me.  I fell asleep.

I caught the city bus in the morning it was just about 2 pounds and I felt good, I had plenty of time, I was well-rested, shaved my face new, and wore a smart shirt that made me look like I could contribute to society.

I went through security like an old pro, smiled when they saw my passport, and wished secretly that it was a fake- I was really a secret agent and they had no idea that I could disarm and dismantle a gun in the blink of an eye.  A deadly force to be reckoned with!  I put my shoes back on after not setting off alarms, I felt a little funny in my socks.  I  made my way into the world of international consumerism.  The Airport felt more like a mall then the mall.  In fact, at one point I almost forgot where I was…somehow, I  realized I needed to look for my boarding gate, and found my way through the maze of perfume smells and cosmetics… how I got there I don’t know, but others were following me and looking around confused.

A fight attended asked me if I would like to switch seats so I could have more room.  Three of us guys were shoulder to shoulder, and there was open seating.  “Sweet” I thought.  “Sure” I said.  I moved seats, and I caught myself smiling as I had entertainment in front of me, I had a wide variety of movies to choose from and plate of warm airline food placed delicately on my tray table.  The food was welcomed like a homemade thanksgiving meal.  I was delighted, giddy, and heading home.  With a good movie, a warm meal, and a blue airplane blanket, I felt like you do when you’re a kid and you stay home from school and your mom treats you like a king.  I was thankful, and felt like someone upstairs really cared about us little people down here.  Maybe even more than we know.

I love the Vancouver airport and their free wi-fi and indoor planetarium.  There may be more plant life in the Vancouver airport then in the entire State of Nevada. That’s not all… I stood for 10 minutes watching in awe a large jelly fish in an oversize aquarium.  They looked fluid and alien, yet beautiful . Three other people came to my side, I could hear them breath in “wow” us strangers didn’t look or talk at each other, but together we shared in this moment of curiosity, separated only by 3 inches of glass, from a dangerously mystical creature.

A quick check of my email and a good friend was letting me know he was now actually able to pick me up at LAX.  Sitting in the seats of the Vancouver airport moments from boarding… I already felt like I was at home.

Special Thanks

To all of you who have enabled me to come across the globe… that have made this possible…Thank you.

I want to thank the Randall’s for putting me up, and taking me in and treating me as their very own for the time I have been in Sheffield. Isaac and Nat… love you guys.

Thank you to ALL of Mosaic Sheffield especially the Preston’s. Thanks Andrew for providing a place for me to Crash and of course, “gears of War”/Halo 3 time:)Ryan, thank you for performing Musical improv with me, and trying new things in the improv world, and for the laughs over pints, as well as serious conversations over tea or coffee. Chris and Ruth thank you! You made Taco night possible and you always have been thankful, and graceful, and provided for me in ways I may not even know. Your grace is most appreciated.

Thank you to Chris and Sara and Beth for taking care of me while I was sick in Edinburgh… You guys would have made my mother Proud! I seriously can’t thank you guys enough. You were my family away from home. Alan missed out:) Even though I was sick. I so enjoyed my time with you. I miss you already.

Thank you to the Radford’s, Sam and Rachel. Sam for your great views, conversation, and incite, and your sacrifice to help make MB what it is. And Rachel for your amazing tactical booking abilities, you truly are a Godsend.

Thank you to David Magidoff, you have always been there for me. Thank you for being a true friend.

Thank you to the Money Butler Crew in LA, you guys have been a wave of continual support and a source of inspiration. Thank you all for being such a great warmth for cold City’s.

Thank you to MBUK. For accepting an American weirdo. For stepping outside your boxes, and being brave and challenging yourself in and out of class! Here is to a great show on Saturday! Thank you for coming out to classes and giving me a reason to be in your city. And for hugging and high fiving despite the culture

Thank you to Arianna and Steven, and for the Edge project, which has made Spain a warmer place (when you didn’t think it could get any warmer Thank you for giving me the opportunity to lead, to serve, and to see my family in Idaho. You have blessed me more then you may ever know. I am deeply thankful, and humbled by your grace.

Thank you to TLC and Edge Project.

To Mosaic LA…Lisa, David Arcos & fam, Alan Luu, Phillip Attmore, Amanda (proof Angel’s exist) Butcher, Bill and all the rest of the awesome Urban Poets!! And thank you to those families that put us all up, and took care of a group of artists, and dancers in Edinburgh.

Thank you to Destiny Church In Edinburgh, Pete, and the staff that took care and fed us.

Thank you to the City of Aberdeen Scotland and Encounter 08′ and the White’s (that’s a family’s last name, I’m not being raciest:)

Thank you to Amy Noble.

Thank you to Renee Wong Mytar for your awareness, and your grace.

Colleen Van Houwe- my brain… thanks for making my writing look better. And sharpening Iron.

Thank you Ben Phen, David Lecross, David Alex, Ryan self, my brothers from a fare.

Thank you to John Corrigan my roomie and a wizard, thanks for explaining the truth about dinosaurs and why they kick ace!

Thank you Sarah Cornell, Graham Jones, Mark Noguchi, April Spry “spry’n it up!”, Amy Smith, Katrina Moore, The Trevino’s,  Kwesi and Samira.  Your support, and friendship is greatly appreciated.

The members of Soda Jerk, Ear buds, chauffeur, and the barrel,  Joe Clabby, Aaron Massy, Bobby J, and Kevin B. Thanks for your Wit and Friendship.

Melissa L. Parham Thank you, your words have soothed, and work is an inspiration. Thank you for keeping me sharp, and keeping my pen to paper. I am greatly blessed by you.

Thank you to Mosaic Sheffield. You are the Reason I have come here in the first place.

Thank you to my Family, Mom, Dad, David and Dotty, and Jenny and Richard . Your continual love and support has been a driving force for me. I love you all so so very much.

I have so many people to thank and not all of them listed…

I thank God for all of you. thanks again!

Love

Sean

Coming to America!

So here I am on last week in Sheffield.

But …

“ I’m sitting in the railway station.
Got a ticket for my destination….And ev’ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.”

Homeward bound baby!

As of Now, there is less than a week left before I plan to return to America…

However, Looking at my budget… I am $96 now just $41.60 U.S. dollars short to actually make it to the states. Mother of Pearl!  I do have my plane ticket, but as far as bus fair to London and a room for the night goes I am short.  So if you have ever wanted to provide support…. Now is your chance I only have one week left.

Just bellow you can see how you can help.   Just click… the choice is yours…

Just by clicking on “Come on Home” you can see how you can give via pay pal.  If your unable to give. That’s totally cool.  Just keep me in prayer for a safe trip home

Thanks a lot.  This trip has been an amazing journey.  Thank you SO SO much to those of you who have supported me financially and also kept me in prayer.  This trip would not have been possible with out people like you.

Your giving has enabled me to…

• Teach improv in Spain, Scotland, and establish a Monkey Butler improv troop in Sheffield England.  We will be doing our first performance this Saturday just 3 days before I leave.
• Perform at Edinburgh Fringe Festival for just under a thousand people.
• stay alive for nearly six months being abroad (food water, and all that good stuff.)

Special Thanks…

I want to thank the Randall’s for putting me up, and taking me in and treating me as there very own for the time I have been in Sheffield. Isaac and Nat… love you guys.

Thank you to all of Mosaic Sheffield including the Preston’s.  Thanks Andrew for providing a place for me to Crash and of course “gears of War”/Halo 3 time:)Ryan, thank you for performing Musical improv with me, and trying new things in the improv world, and for the laughs over pints, as well as serious conversations over tea or coffee.  Chris and Ruth thank you! You made Taco night possible and you always offered me a pint after class, and provided for me in ways I may not even know.  Your grace is most appreciated.

Thank you to Chris and Sara and Beth for taking care of me while I was sick in Edinburgh… You guys would have made my mother Proud!  I seriously can’t thank you guys enough.  Alan missed out:)  Even though I was sick. I so enjoyed my time with you.  I miss you already.

Thank you to the Radford’s, Sam and Rachel.  Sam for your great views conversation, and incite, and your sacrifice to help make MB what it is.  And Rachel for your amazing tactical booking abilities, you truly are a God send.

Thank you to David Magidoff, you have always been there for me.  Thank you for being a true friend.

Thank you to the Money Butler Crew in LA, you guys have been a wave of continual support, and a source of inspiration.  Thank you all for being such a great warmth for cold City’s.

Thank you to MBUK.  For excepting an American weirdo.  For stepping outside your boxes, and being brave and challenging yourself in and out of class! Here is to a great show on Saturday! Thank you for coming out to classes and giving me a reason to be in your city. And for hugging and high fiveing despite the culture

Thank you to Arianna and Steven, and for the Edge project, which has made Spain a warmer place (when you didn’t think it could get any warmer   Thank you for giving me the opportunity to lead, to serve, and to see my family in Idaho.  You have blessed me more then you may ever know.  I am deeply thankful, and humbled by your grace.

Thank you to TLC, and Edge Project.

To Mosaic LA…Lisa, David Arcos & fam, Alan Luu, Phillip Attmore, Amanda (proof Angel’s exist) Butcher, Bill and all the rest of the awesome Urban Poets!! And thank you to those families that put us all up, and took care of a group of artists, and dancers in Edinburgh.

Thank you to Destiny Church In Edinburgh, Pete, and the staff that took care and fed us.

Thank you to Amy Noble.

Thank you to renee Wong Mytar for your awareness, and your grace.

Colleen Van Houwe- my brain… thanks for making my writing look better.  And sharpening Iron.

Thank you Ben Phen, David Lecross, David Alex, Ryan self, my brothers from a fare.

Thank you to John Corrigan my roomie and a wizard, thanks for explaining the truth about dinosaurs and why they kick ace!

Melissa L. Parham Thank you, your words have soothed, and work is an inspiration.  Thank you for keeping me sharp, and keeping my pen to paper. I am greatly blessed by you.

Thank you to Mosaic Sheffield.  You are the Reason I have come here in the first place.

Thank you to my Family, Mom, Dad, David, and Jenny.  Your continual love and support has been a driving force for me.  I love you all so so very much.

I thank God for all of you.  thanks again!

Love

Sean

Stay in Britain Jerk!

well, tell me how you really feel…

I may now be in Britain forever!!

And you thought I was a Jerk… ha!

Thanks for contributing to this….

Change of heart?

If you would still like to help a brother out, but just clicked on “stay in Britian Jerk just to see where it would take you.  Don’t worry, its all fun and games… unless you stranded in some distant land were football is totally different to what your used to. And it’s not to late.. yet.

Change of heart?