On September 11, 2000, I arrived in Jerusalem, eager to begin my program in conflict resolution through music — a program that I had created over years of planning and deliberation. I was in Bethlehem when the fighting started, and I stayed as long as it took for me to figure out that I couldn’t do the good work that I had so long planned. One of my favorite kids, Asel Asleh, was killed in the prime of his life — a tragedy I will never forget. This is a link to a picture I took of Asel at summer camp at Seeds of Peace where I was his camp counselor.

Six months later, on March 11, 2001, my father and I were in a terrible car wreck. We were an inch away from death. My father wouldn’t have made it through if I hadn’t shouted for him to wake up — he was pierced and broken — and he lost almost every drop of his blood on the way to the hospital. Thank God and thanks to his tough-as-steel heart, my father is out biking an hour or two per day on his re-constructed hip — and he walks to take communion in church — and he walked my sister down the aisle the next year.

Another six months later, on September 11, 2001, our country woke up to realize what I had first realized a year earlier: the world is not as safe and kind as we first believed.

And what can we do? I think we can all sing a song for justice, and for love, and for family, and for this wonderful life that we are living. I sing every song for God, and for my dad, and for those who die, and for all of those who are suffering, and for all of those who feel the same joy I feel in music.

I have made two recordings of my own since My two September 11ths and my March 11th. One is called Live in Vermont, and is the record of my years after my accident — sitting on the porch with my best buddy, Micah Schonberg and picking songs — and another is called Stolen Shack, where I am playing music with some of my other best friends — I also recently completed and am in the process of disseminating a new folk/bluegrass worship service called Light into the World, and am excited about the response it is getting.

And I made a recording with my close friend, Jeshua Erickson, an incredible singer/songwriter who I met in Washington. When I was out on the porch, he was in his room — and when I was trying to push all of my fears inside, he was pulling his out.

Jeshua has written songs about his life, and about the political and religious truths in this world like none I have ever seen. Jeshua’s new album which I had the honor of joining him on, Swords into Plowshares, is not perfect, not a multi-million dollar production — but a beautiful yet rough, gritty and real interpretation of the political and social climate today as well as a pretty listen:)

Jeshua has written a story about our recording process and the troubles and trials that ensued — please visit his site at: www.jeshuaerickson.com/blog — and please go to Sojourners Magazine to check out his CD, which is for sale on their site. If you’d like to read the lyrics from the tunes, or to hear soundclips of them, visit www.jeshuaerickson.com

If you haven’t ever tried to sit out on the porch and play in the snow, or in the rain — singing a gospel tune out into the cold air for nobody in particular, try it — it will change you!

Peace.