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 october 13, 1996
Notes from the Road there's a song that i'd like to write about tonight. first i'll tell you a story. i have a good friend from high school that i still keep in contact with from time to time named ryan szescila, who now goes to the university of montana. he is one of the most quality guys that i've known. just this last year, his sister lisa committed suicide. i'm not sure how old she was, but i think that she was about the age of my brother, who is 26. i first heard about this when ryan's mother called me and asked me to play at the funeral. i was shocked. lisa was the first person that i'd ever really known who committed suicide. i had never been to a funeral before, let alone played at one, but i was so honored that they had thought of me. the songs that were requested were 'bridge over troubled water' (one of ryan's favorites), and a song called 'God walks with you,' that i had written in high school for another good friend of mine (kim zmeskal). i decided to re-write 'God walks with you,' for two reasons. one was that i wanted to improve upon what i'd written originally, but mainly because i wanted to change the meaning around a bit in order to make it more appropriate for the occasion. i got up extremely early the morning of the funeral, got dressed up in a suit, and headed out to spring, texas. i wasn't sure what time to be there so i just got there as early as i could. i ended up being three hours early, which was fine, other than the fact that it gave me quite a bit of time to reflect upon the whole thing. i was really troubled, because as they began delivering flowers, and as people began to arrive for the ceremony, i began to put a lot of thought into that room. it was so calm and quiet. the flowers were beautiful, and the room was completely filled; filled with people who loved and cared about lisa. i began to wonder, if there had been any way that lisa had made it into that room alive that day, could whatever it was that was destroying her inside been resolved. could the peace in that room, coupled with the presence of all of those people who loved her been enough to bring her to a point of reason. wondering things like this is enough to make you frustrated and confused, but frustration and confusion were exactly what i found in that room that day, not only in the circumstances of the gathering, but also on the faces of my friend and his family. i learned a great deal about silent understanding that day as well. God is indeed mysterious. His ways are higher than ours. sometimes the only thing that we can take comfort in is our doubt, which is the only things that makes our faith genuine. in the letter of paul to the philippians it says, "have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." frederick buechner asked, "without somehow destroying me in the process, how could God reveal Himself in a way that would leave no room for doubt? if there were no room for doubt, there would be no room for me." i believe that God is in control. we live in a fallen world, but are no longer forced to lead fallen lives. as far as we may feel from God, he remains consistently about us, aware of our every breath. i have no more insight to offer on this subject than i did to my friend that morning, but i know that my belief in God was somehow strengthened that day. i encourage you to seek truth in tragedy. frustration and confusion aren't things to fear, rather things to be taken advantage of. it is within those times that we can see God turn lives around, and work miracles. tonight we all went to a club here in decatur called eddie's attic. there was a friend of don's playing there, named ellis paul. as i was leaving, i was talking to don about something outside the club, and a guy walked up to me and asked me when the new cd was going to be out. i was very taken that anyone would know who in the world i was in atlanta. we began talking about the show that we had played there at eddie's just some months before, when we opened up for some other friends of our through don, billy pilgrim. the only thing that he mentioned about the show was how touched he was by the song that i sang by myself at the end, about the girl that committed suicide. he said that it really stuck with him, and that he had thought quite a bit about it. i can't tell you how moved i was, but at the same time how very puzzled. don and i had been debating whether or not the song was right for this record, all the way from the beginning. we went back and forth many times, and had never really come to a conclusion. what a strange moment it was to have that particular song mentioned in that particular context. as soon as the guy walked away, don and i looked at each other and made the decision to come back to the studio tomorrow and record the song, in order to try and get it on the cd. we have the day off, so time lends itself nicely. i will keep you posted on whether or not it finds it's way onto the record, but either way i wanted to talk to you about it. i have been blown away by the incredible boldness of people who share with me after concerts the stories of similar things that they've been through. it's somewhere within that sharing and vulnerability that healing begins. everyone experiences loss in some form or another, and my prayer is that God will begin that healing process in you and in me, that will lead to the strengthening of our faith; in the faith in the Giver of all the good things that we so often cling to. God be with you, and thanks so much for reading.- derek center aisle (in memory of anne elizabeth szescila)
thank God i'm back in my car and driving home, and driving home,
there aren't words to say, words aren't remembered,
what crimes have you committed demanding such a penance
i've been here for over three hours behind the flowers,
what crimes have you committed demanding such a penance
and i think about my brother, and how i just stood there
thank God i'm back in my car and driving home, and driving home,
what crimes have you committed demanding such a penance
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