khad.com

Khad Young, Outlaw Preacher, Metamorphosis Church

Mar 4, 2010 9:33am

“Holy Ghost Hokey Pokey” (via Matthew Paul Turner)

Mar 4, 2010 12:10am
Jan 24, 2010 10:54pm

Family

It strikes me as odd just how similar different types of love can be. I have been in California since August and have not seen my parents since I drove through the Cleveland area on my way out here. Tonight they arrived in Los Angeles, and I was so anxious to see them I left work early. We went out for dinner at a delicious vegan restaurant called The Veggie Grill. Afterwards I walked them up to their hotel room where my exhausted dad promptly fell asleep, but my mom stayed up for a while talking with me. At first I was worried about keeping my dad up. Then I was worried about waking him after he had fallen asleep. I was just so glad to see them though that I did not want to miss a moment with my mom who was herself straining to stay awake. I do not know if I should be ashamed or nervous to say so, but it felt like a late night talk with a girl I was really interested in. I simply did not want it to end. Eventually, I played the role of a gentleman and excused myself to let her rest as well, but I had to force myself to do so. I could have stayed up all night talking with her. When I left, there was even an awkward pause at the door before I hugged her goodnight.

What can I say but I love my mom. She is the woman to whom any other in my life will forever be compared. It is a high bar to set, to be sure, but I would not have it any other way.

I love my mom.

I love my dad.

I have missed them so.

Jan 11, 2010 7:03am
We didn’t hike to the Sun Gate; we ran. We ran on blistered feet and sore legs. We got there and it was fogged in so we sat along the rock, on the ruins, and waited for the fog to burn off. We sat and sang songs. And it was like Carlos said, because you can take a bus to Machu Picchu; you can take a train and then a bus, and you can hike a mile to the Sun Gate. But the people who took the bus didn’t experience the city like we experienced the city. The pain made the city more beautiful. The story made us different characters than if we would be if we’d have skipped the story and showed up at the ending an easier way. - Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years
Dec 24, 2009 3:51pm
Dec 10, 2009 3:26pm
Dec 9, 2009 9:57am
Nov 29, 2009 10:23am

“What Matters More?”
by Derek Webb

You say you always treat people like you like to be
I guess you love being hated for your sexuality
You love when people put words in your mouth
‘Bout what you believe, make you sound like a freak

‘Cause if you really believe what you say you believe
You wouldn’t be so damn reckless with the words you speak
Wouldn’t silently conceal when the liars speak
Denyin’ all the dyin’ of the remedy

Tell me, brother, what matters more to you?
Tell me, sister, what matters more to you?

If I can tell what’s in your heart by what comes out of your mouth
Then it sure looks to me like being straight is all it’s about
It looks like being hated for all the wrong things
Like chasin’ the wind while the pendulum swings

‘Cause we can talk and debate until we’re blue in the face
About the language and tradition that he’s comin’ to save
Meanwhile we sit just like we don’t give a shit
About 50,000 people who are dyin’ today

Tell me, brother, what matters more to you?
Tell me, sister, what matters more to you?

Nov 19, 2009 12:41am

Dodgy Garden Hardware

I am often jealous of the impact the invention of the printing press had on the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century. This message was sent by a new friend living in Australia. The Internet kicks the printing press’s ass.

Khad,

I hope you don’t find this message strange, even though I kind of do.

I’ve listened to all the Outlaw Preachers podcasts/precasts in the last few weeks and found them all excellent. However, it is after listening to Sehnsucht for about the fourth time that I felt I really wanted to write to you and tell you how profoundly that touched me.

I won’t bore you with the details, but, like many, my experiences of churches and Christians have been pretty horrible. I was once asked why I “fell away” from my faith. I didn’t fall away, I ran away — and hid. Subsequent attempts to return invariably confirmed that decision. I had an actual physical church phobia for a while. (It made attending weddings really awkward!) In the intervening years, my life eventually became really nice, but sometimes … well, Sehnsucht sums it up perfectly.

I assume you also have these over there, but in Australia it’s common to have little lights in the garden which have built in sensors. So when you visit somewhere new you’re walking along thinking, “It’s really dark, how am I going to find the front door without stumbling into the garden or falling over a step.” Suddenly a little light comes on, and you can see the next metre or two of the path. It’s not bright and it doesn’t stay on very long and you still have no idea where you will be going next or if another little light will come on, but at least it’s no longer pitch black. I feel a little bit like that at the moment, and it’s mostly thanks to you and the outlaw preachers.

So I set out to write something that sounded grateful and maybe even encouraging but ended up comparing you to dodgy garden hardware. Sorry about that. Please try not to mind!

I really don’t know where I’ll end up with all this but I’m listening and reading and thinking a lot, and I think, finally, I might be able to explore this whole God thing again from a place of genuine inquiry rather than one of old prejudice and pain. Thank you. I hope you are blessed.

I am blessed, and it is because of people like you. Thank you so much for letting me share this with everyone else.

Nov 19, 2009 12:26am
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