I’ll pick up right where I left off. Because I know you would never settle for less.

The “Phil Line Incident 07″ ends and Liz and I head back to join the group. Though I do enjoy David Crowder Band, I felt like the highlight of the evening was over. I got what I paid for, the rest was just icing on the cake. How wrong I was. The entire night was incredible.

I got to see DCB a couple of times (with Third Day) in the last year or so and I really enjoyed it. In fact, this first song “You Are My Joy” is what snagged me as a fan the first time I heard it. I only videoed for a few seconds. I wanted you to see the crowd response. Excuse the sound- the volume of the crowd was…. how do you say…

UNBELIEVABLE. I’m not trying to get deep here [Heaven forbid], but I’m just saying that it must change things in the world when this many Christians pronounce outloud that God is their joy. I wish I remembered to sing this song more often. For a season, it was on constant repeat in my car. And I think my life did a better job reflecting that then more than it does right now.

I’ll tell you this about Crowder. The man writes some genius things. His worship songs are sung around the world. I respect him highly. I didn’t even video the most amazing song, “O Praise Him”. People lost their minds, singing their brains out. It was so loud that I was in awe. And yet, at the same time, it was incredibly personal and quiet. Does that make any sense? It was peaceful but loud. I find myself, in those moments, remembering anew why I chose God after He chose me. Because He is so real.

And this makes all the difference. This changes everything. Making our whole existence worth something so we sing…..

I think I can give the night no higher compliment than this- the worship opened a door between God and His people and He was right there with us. And it was beautiful.

Did you, or did you not, appreciate the mechanical arm? I know. Whoever was controlling that thing really had their finger on the pulse of how to ruin a good video.

And I’m going to need you to re-look at that video and notice what Crowder is playing. For some of you guitar lovers (Jake!), believe it or not. It was a GUITAR HERO guitar. Seriously. Rad. His drummer changed the doo-hicky and the thing-a-ma-bob and now it plays chords. How in the …..

So here is tonight’s humorous story from the concert.

And I’ll be honest, I’m a little skittish about telling this one- another story involving another person I don’t “exactly” know but feel the need to tell you about. For everyone’s sake, there will be no names mentioned, faces will be blurred, and no other websites linked. Gracious. My life. Hilarious.

Once the concert ends, everyone heads outside. There were about seven or eight of us standing around. One girl, we’ll call her Jan, grabs my arm. “Annie!” she says, “I have a crush on that guy in the green.” I look over and about 20 yards behind me is a guy in green. I ask Jan how she knows him. Same college? Same workplace? Same church?

Her response- “Ummm…. I don’t know him.”

Wha wha what?!? So I continue to question Jan- “How does one crush on someone they don’t know?” [pretending as if this has never been an idea in my mind]

“I’ve seen him on facebook.”

Ah. A facebook crush. Classic. Happens more than you would believe. Listen, we’re single. We’re not spring chickens. Sue us for seeing cute fellas on facebook and figuring out how we might know them.

Anyways, so I have my back to Green Guy. Liz is standing right in front of me. Jan is to our right. I’m laughing at Jan and suddenly all eyes grow ten times in size. They give the ole “check behind you” look and so I slowly turn. Again, as if this didn’t just happen with Phil, Green Guy is standing directly beside me. He must be a Christian illusionist with as fast as he moved across the sidewalk.

So I beg Jan to let Liz take a picture, pretending to be photographing me. That way, Green Guy is in the background and we have the moment forever locked in our minds. And blogs.

And this photo truly doesn’t do justice to how hard I was laughing. I deleted the picture where I was snotting and spitting everywhere because I was laughing so hard. Because this is a truckload of hilarious for one night. Then I switched places with Liz and Justin. All I’m saying is that I’m pretty good at blurring out faces, aren’t I? No, you don’t know him. Nope.

Whew. So there is your final reflection on Friday night. Who know one night could hold so much blog fodder?

I did.

No, tomorrow’s post will not be a reflection from Saturday. Here’s all you need to know about my Saturday:

I get to hang with some of my favorite kids today and eat dinner with some teachers from my old school in Jackson County. All things that fit well in Thanksgiving week.

Let’s back it up, pups. [I'm not really calling you a dog, just rhyming.]

Anyways, I will begin with this. One complaint. The Tabernacle sells too many tickets. And standing up for 2 1/2 hours just isn’t the good time that it used to be. And by “used to be” I mean “never was”.

The concert, as previously mentioned, was amazing. Our location, not primo. But decent. You will see in all the videos a mysterious moving metal arm. Apparently they were videoing the concert and the arm has a “I love to block Annie’s view” mind of it’s own. But the show was incredible. This is like Musical Hanukkah for me- Dave Barnes and then Phil Wickham 7 nights later? All I need is Bebo Norman lighting the menorah and all would be perfect.

Here’s Phil singing one of his new songs, “Cannons”. A few things to notice before watching:
1) No, you can NOT hear me singing. I deleted that one.
2) At about -0:28, Phil does the sickest guitar strumming. I know that others can do it as well, but it still impresses me.
3) This man’s voice is my favorite.

Like I said, pictures were illegal. I have no idea where this one came from. Sorry about the blur- no flash. Ahem… I assume that was the cause. How would I know?

Now for your total pleasure: An idiotic Annie story.

So Phil Wickham has a blog. Have I told you that before? Anyways, I read it. Sue me. On the right, he has three links. One of them is a guy who travels with Phil- maybe the tour manager? Phil’s handler? Well, I read that one too. Sue me.

And I had seen on the blog that after Phil performs, he signs autographs, shakes hands, kisses babies, these kinds of things. And I had seen that Phil’s handler was NOT happy with some previous crowds because they didn’t line up well when it was meet and greet time. The crowd was mean in L.A., shoving, making mean faces, unkind comments. Oh Christians, we can be so lovely.

So my friend Liz decides she wants to meet Phil. I’m in. Are you kidding me? Have you read my blog before? Of course I’m all over that. We walk out to the lobby which is really small- there are staircases going down and up all around the merch tables. My mind is spinning, “Where do we form a line? I don’t want to make blog guy mad!” So I’m looking to my left talking the situation over with Liz …. and someone bumps into my arm.

Yep. Read the blog post title again and use your detective skills to figure out what happened.

[Marie, this is the part you should have been expecting.]

Phil is standing right beside me and now the desire to make a line is almost panicking me. I see his handler. I think I better make a line before I talk to him, even though no one is around except the three of us. Seriously, I really don’t want to make the blog for being part of a bad line experience.

Liz and I putter around in a small circle awkwardly waiting to see what was going to happen. Other fans arrive. Finally Phil starts shaking hands, etc. We step up. I introduce myself, Liz does the same, we ask if Liz can have a picture, I explain that I already have a picture (in many more words- you know how I get when I’m nervous), and then we take the picture.How cute, huh? Hello, Stache-y Phil. That’s new. Fresh grown. Good thing I adore his voice and his writing. [Have you listened to his songs yet? Or read the lyrics? Genius.]

At this point, Liz and I are cracking up. And I’m dying to get a photo of Phil with the crowd, honestly to show you how difficult it was to make a line. So we walk down the stairs and turn back to photograph. How’d it go?Not so good the first time, huh? So let’s try again.
Better. I would have kept trying, but every time I pointed my camera up there, Phil would look down and laugh- obviously mocking both Liz and I. Yes, she was a part of it too. I’m not alone in my …. uh …. behaviors. And at this point, we are both laughing so hard that we look stupid.

This one shows you the set up. That is all the space we had. The stairs are right on the bottom on the photo. Tell me, where does one form a line? I’m a first born child. I believe in following the rules.

I saw the blogger guy standing by; I just knew we were going to be scolded for not getting in line. So when I got home, I just took care of the situation myself. [Read my comment then please scroll down and read his response. We're obviously friends now.]

Listen, it’s called SHAMELESS. Try it sometime.

Tomorrow….. David Crowder and the Facebook crush. Good quality blogging material.

When I get home from youth group tonight, I promise you will receive a full blown blog.

But until then, here is some amazing reading material about the guy I heard this morning, Peter Xu. He is called the “Billy Graham of China”. He is the founder of the largest home church movement in China- over 20 million people. Can you even register that? Let me help you- there are about 5 million people in Metro Atlanta. Four times Metro Atlanta. Good gravy.

He has been imprisoned multiple times for spreading the Gospel and now lives in exile in Los Angeles- as in, if he goes back to China, he will be put in jail. Because he is a Christian. So he lives in LA.

And this is his ministry. It’s an amazing concept- sending Chinese Christians from China down the ancient Silk Road back to Jerusalem and surrounding countries (Muslim, Hindu, and Islamic) to share the Gospel.

More to come…. including Crowder and Wickham videos, UGA stories, times with the Chittom family, and some photos from today. Crazy weekend. Quite bloggable, if you ask me.

It’s 9:18am. I’m running out to door to eat breakfast and head to the game. I knew this weekend would be tough, but I’m not scared.

No clue when blogging will occur for serious. Just so you know.

Hopefully tonight.

Did I mention the concert last night was AMAZING? Because it was. Videos and pictures to come soon. But don’t tell the Tabernacle- we weren’t allowed to take pictures.

By the way, David Crowder said, more than one “It’s just not right. It’s stupid, that’s how good it is.”

Why the man gots to use my signature phrases? Caroline, who I steal signature phrases from, would have been up in arms. He’s lucky I like him so much, otherwise I’d sue him for infringement on the things I say.

I could do that- right, Bill?

Have a great Saturday. Enjoy these short posts. They are few and far between.

Go Dawgs.

Here is his CaringBridge Website.

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/evansmith

Just got home from Phil Wickham and David Crowder concert. Of course, I made a fool of myself, Marie Claire.

I’ll catch you all up in the morning.

NaBloPoMo said, “You got the guts, Downs, to figure out how to blog this weekend? Will you take the challenge?”

You know my answer.

Because it’s now 4:58pm. I have to pack for a weekend of traveling and get dressed for THE concert. You know to whom I refer. I’m supposed to leave this house in 20 minutes. Yeah right.

Then it’s straight away to Athens. Let’s call it the “Black and Red-Eye” traveling edition. [Because it will be late at night. Going to Athens. Get it?] I knew pre-midnight wasn’t happening, so I had to squeeze a little blog in here.

Then tomorrow is a 12:30 wildcat whoopin’. Go dawgs. Then, well, my plans are a little up in the air. Either stay in Athens and see the Chittoms or head to the lakehouse.

Sunday consists of some sort of church event in Clayton, GA involving a Chinese man and a Cajun buffet. No lie. You may think I’m kidding. I’m not.

Then back to Marietta for youth group, featuring Brandon Scarbrough. Bringin’ da noise. Bringin’ da funk. Bringin’ da Word.

Lots o’ traveling in the next 48 hours. But don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’m over halfway through NaBloPoMo. I’m not missing a day now.

Countdown to P-Dub concert: 2 hours, 54 minutes.

Thank you for your prayers for Evan. I will keep you updated on any new info.

This is Evan. He’s just another kid to you. And I get that. It’s funny, you know, how someone can be important to me and foreign to you. Weird internet world.

Evan belongs to some of my great friends in Athens, Nolia and Brian. I actually remember the day Evan was born. Not too hard- he’s only 6. But I remember as I was driving out of town to head back to Marietta for Thanksgiving and I was late getting to Mama’s house. But I had to swing by St. Mary’s Hospital. It was unseasonably warm- I was wearing flip-flops. Nolia looked beautiful and I couldn’t believe that Evan was finally here. He was a good lookin’ dude from day 1.

This family is really important to me- they are the first family I ever babysat for in Athens. I still have in my house a wall decoration that Nolia gave me off her wall- “You like it? Just take it. I’ll find another one.” My dear friend Eve married into them. I can truly say they loved me, and continue to love me, like I am one of their own. I could just show up on their doorstep tomorrow and they wouldn’t blink an eye- feed me, house me, pray for me, laugh with me, whatever I needed. They are part of a small group of families in Athens who decided that the college women of St. James UMC could live life with them. I thank God I was one of those women.

There is no way on Earth to repay this family, or any of the others. And see, I could go on and on about them, about the Chittoms, the Tomlins, the Coles, the Gaultneys, the Kirsches, the Rivers. They are each just another family to you. But they are essential pieces to the puzzle of me.

And Evan? He’s just another kid. But today he, and all who love him, found out that he has leukemia. Just another kid … with cancer.

I laid awake last night until almost 2am. My spirit crying out, in full unrest, for Brian and Nolia. For Evan’s body. For his brother Mark and his sister Mary Ford. For Eve and Gerald and the family as they are ministers of hope. Begging God. For anything.

And though, as I said, there is no way I can ever repay these families, I can do this. I can ask you to pray.

I know he’s just another kid to you. I see these posts all the time too (which is a sad testimony in itself, isn’t it?). I read them, toss up a prayer, and then move on to the next blog. I understand.

Just please pray. Every prayer makes a difference in the heavens and in the hearts of these people. This family is being faithful to seek God, seek prayer, and surround themselves with scripture. As one who loves this family, I want to be faithful in that as well by asking you to join me to pray for this sweet little guy.

Pray for HEALING. For peace. For sleep (for Nolia and Brian as well as Evan). For finances. For safe travel between Athens and Atlanta. For hope.

Pray this scripture with us: Psalm 27

“I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”
-Psalm 27:13

Have you ever stuck your khakis in the dryer to get the wrinkles out?

After about 8 minutes, have you opened the dryer to an overwhelming smell of peppermint?

Have you ever realized too late that you left peppermint chap stick in your khaki pocket when de-wrinkling?

Have you ever ruined your khakis in 8 minutes?

Oh, you haven’t?

Uhhh…. yeah. Me neither.

Sometimes I go in to culture shock. Right here in America. Right here in Atlanta.

I know that people around the world talk about how rich Americans are and how much we have. And call me rude, but sometimes I want to say “blah blah blah”. [Yeah, that is a bit rude, but hang with me.] Because I understand I live in the top 3% of the world or what have you, but compared to what we are told is “rich”, I am far from it. But then things like the following occur, and I realize that we, alas, do have too much money.

I went with some wonderful friends to NorthPoint Mall for the singular purpose of visiting the American Girl Doll Store. And it was heaven for 9 year old Annie. I used to love the doll Molly and read all the books about her. Even now, at 27, it gave me chill bumps of excitement to see all of Molly’s paraphernalia gathered and displayed. [Mildly lame. I know this.]

Then we saw this. The Doll Hair Salon. Wait wait wait. Are you telling me that little girls actually bring their dolls to this store, have them strapped into a salon chair, cape tied around their neck, and someone does their hair? And the little girls [read "moms"] PAY for this? Up to $20!! I watched in awe. Amazement. Quasi-disgust. The worst part? It isn’t the children that are coming up with this stuff. It’s adults. Creating environments of wasteful luxury and then showing children that is their status symbol. This is success.

What kind of whacked out culture do we live in where people can literally throw away up to $20 on getting Samantha a swanky up-do? Why are things like this a priority? How ironic to give Kaya, a Nez-Pierce girl growing up in 1764, a $15 French twist.

As I stood there and watched girl after girl make arrangements for their doll’s hair transformation, my mind flashed back to the concert on Friday night.

Barnes and Wertz spent a good amount of time talking about the Mocha Club. This is a non-profit a friend of theirs created to donate money to needy people in Africa. They ask people to donate $7 a month to their cause, roughly the cost of 2 mochas.

And for that $7, two kids get to go to school for a semester. One person is SAVED from malaria. Seven Africans can have clean water for a year.

For you non-math majors, that means that about three people could be saved from malaria if Samantha’s hairdo budget got redistributed to the Mocha Club.

Welcome to America, where a plastic doll is far more important that another human.

Have mercy on our children, God. Make them like You. Not like us.