summer and beyond...

Dear Friends,

I hope this letter finds you well and enjoying life! Can you believe that another summer is here?! I am currently three weeks in to my fifth summer of guiding for Dry Bones’ summer program, Elevations. By the end of this year, I will have guided on this particular mountain about 40 times, built 120 or so fires (well actually a little less since we are STILL under a fire ban!), and wrapped approximately three thousand blisters. Haha, not really...but it's a lot! This year, I am excited to talk with the kids about themes like going beyond what is normal, seeking community, and wondering at the beauty found in nature and people. I have an amazing co-guide who is returning for a third summer, and I am so excited to get to work with him again. All in all, it’s looking to be a great time! We have had some wonderful groups so far!

It will also be a bittersweet season for me. I would like to take the rest of this letter, which may turn out to be a couple of pages (sorry!), to tell you about the upcoming and exciting changes happening with me and Courtney. So, grab your favorite beverage, kick up your feet, and get comfortable, because this might take a while. It may get a little sentimental, too, which I tried to avoid, but I was finally able to accept the fact that my emotions in all of this can’t and shouldn’t be suppressed. So here it goes.

When I first came to Dry Bones in 2006, I had no idea what was in store for me. Sounds like such a cliché phrase, and I suppose it is, but in my 20-year-old mindset, I really had no clue what I had signed up for. It is no exaggeration to say that that week changed my life. A few months later, I was back in Denver for a summer internship. Summer ’06 was a whirlwind of emotions, lessons learned, and changed lives, mine first and foremost. During that summer I saw and experienced love in action like never before. I saw God’s relentless pursuit of hearts, and felt the freeing call to simply show up and join Him.

Two years later, I was given an incredible opportunity to take a year-long internship, and once again the future looked hazy, but that excited me. This was a formative time. I met my wife that year, thought I didn’t know it yet! I experienced reliance on God and His people (all of you) like never before. And I even got a staff position offer from Dry Bones in November of 2008. I took the job without hesitation, honored to be given the chance, and thus began my staff journey. In 2009 I experienced loss, many losses, that shook me and continue to influence my life and perspectives on God. I will never forget that year and how I cried with, and was comforted by, so many of my friends on the streets and my friends on staff. But God was there, and I know that He is still good. 2010 can be summed up in a word: Courtney. The adventure of life became all the sweeter with her. In 2011 I had hit a stride that felt good. I was making friends with kids, visiting jails a lot, and dreaming about what was next for Dry Bones and me and Courtney. And then in 2012, here I am in transition again. After five years with Dry Bones, I have decided that it is time for something new. My job of Outreach Minister will come to a close at the end of the summer in August.

When I think about the years I have spent here, there is no way that I can express the ways my heart has been changed and molded and challenged. I have gotten to see kids take incredible steps forward. I have seen kids take heartbreaking steps backwards. I have found friends and lost them. I have worked with my best friends, and I know that our lives will continue to intersect. I owe a great debt of gratitude to Dry Bones, the staff and the board, and every single one of you. Ever since that first spring break I have learned from my co-workers and watched as they poured love and value and worth on our young, homeless friends. I have learned from you, my incredible and faithful supporters, that the kingdom of God is indeed a beautiful thing when we all come together in our different roles to spread love and to share the incredible grace Jesus offers. My perspectives on life and people are constantly in motion, and constantly being challenged, and I blame Dry Bones for this!

And so, I am leaving Dry Bones. But only in the sense of career. I am not leaving the things I have learned. I am not leaving a life defined by love and relationship. I am not leaving the call and challenge to get up close, and to live out of my comfort zone. And I am not leaving my relationships with the staff, board, and street kids that I have come to love so much. I can picture staying involved with Dry Bones to whatever extent is appropriate, riding out the ebbs and flows of volunteering, and helping implement new and exciting initiatives.

My eyes get a little hot (which is my favorite term for that stage right before crying begins) when I think back on the past four or five years that we have spent together. You have been with me every step of the way. God has used you, all of you, to advance his kingdom. He has used you in his quest to convince the world, and more specifically the homeless youth in Denver, of His incredible love. I am so honored to have partnered with you these past years. It was certainly my privilege and my joy to have been on staff with Dry Bones. Thank you for being an incredible team. Thank you for always showing up prayerfully and financially so that I could show up on the streets. I absolutely could not have done it without you. I love you all very much.

So what is next for Courtney and me? Well, ever since we got married, travel has been on our minds. Actually it has been on our minds well before that, even before we ever met. I have always wanted to travel for an extended period of time, and so has Courtney. We have both dabbled in it, having been to several countries together, and a few more separately. So when we got married, we were excited to gain life-long travel partners! We have been saving every spare penny and working hard at multiple jobs to achieve this dream. In September of this year we are going to embark on a year-long adventure!

We will be living in New Zealand for most of the year, with a couple of months spent in Australia and Thailand before we head back to the U.S. Our plan is to experience New Zealand for about four months without working, simply living and playing together in a new environment. Then, we will spend the next 6 months or so in one place, working whatever jobs we can find, and meeting people in a brand new community. We have been approved for visas that allow us to travel and work part-time for a whole year. It truly is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and we feel so blessed to be in a position to take advantage of it!

We are in search of new experiences, new views of the world and the people in it, new perspectives on God and love, and inspiration for what is next. This is a grand experiment that will no doubt shape us, change us, stretch us, and add an awesome chapter to our story together! We are even being “sponsored” by a local marketing group that is helping us gain a following for our travels, and giving us a platform to share stories, writings, videos, and inspiration from around the world! We are really excited! If you are interested in following us, stay tuned on the blog (www.zachrobert.blogspot.com) for how to do that!

I realize this is a lot to take in all at once. You are all a vital part of Dry Bones, so I understand if this catches you off guard. God has used you in incredible ways; ways that we have seen and experienced, and ways that we may never know. I pray that we all continue to seek ways to join God in His kingdom’s work. I would like you to know a few things. First, I am forever changed because of Dry Bones. Second, I am forever grateful. And third, I promise to carry the vision of love and getting up close to whatever and wherever is next.

If you are interested in continuing to support Dry Bones even after I am gone, please let Nikki Wallace know by emailing her at nikkiwallace2002@gmail.com. Or, you can simply keep on giving of your finances and your prayers. Dry Bones is moving forward and dreaming big, and it is an exciting time to be involved! Among other things, there is a brand new, start-up non-profit entering the scene. It is a sister ministry of Dry Bones existing to offer employment to young people who are living homeless. So cool! This venture is called Purple Door Coffee House, and it is projected to open in the fall of 2012. Two past Dry Bones interns, Mark and Madison, are taking on the challenge, and they are doing an amazing job. If you would like more info about this exciting new coffee shop that will be filling the employment gap, get in touch with me and I will get you in touch with Mark and Madison! Or you can visit their website, www.purpledoorcoffee.com. How’s that for a shameless plug?! Thanks for giving me moment to share.

Thank you, all of you. Each one of you has been a vital part of my life these past years. I love you, and I will continue to pray for you and your continued ventures in the Kingdom. Stay in touch, and may we all keep loving well!

the odd mix...

The following story is an odd mix of beauty and heartbreak.  It is a picture of the messiness of life, relationships, and God's tireless pursuit of our hearts.

I had not seen or heard from her in over a year.  We would frequently search for her, driving the streets that had been her home, her place of work, her place of entrapment.  But I had nearly given up hope that I would ever see my friend again.  I prayed that she had escaped her demons and broken the chains of addiction; that she was living clean and sober somewhere in a whole new part of the country.  That she was thriving, not merely surviving.  Then one day I decided to look her up in the prison system, one last time.  One last effort to find her.  And there she was.

She was in Denver Women's Correctional facility, a higher security prison that seemed to be her second home (or maybe her first).  Her picture on the offenders web-page was close to terrifying.  Freshly inked face tattoos, spiked hair, and eyes that stared daggers at anyone who dared to meet her gaze, had taken the place of the beautiful, blond girl that I once knew.  The streets are hard.  And the drugs are harder.  I, and many of you who have never even met this young woman but have prayed for her for years, have gotten to walk through life with her for some time.  Her roller coaster of an existence has taken her through addictions, pregnancies, rehabs, homelessness, and myriad of other experiences that would threaten to break even the strongest of human beings.  The picture I saw was exactly that.  Broken.  Heartbroken.

Needless to say, I was thrilled that she was alive, and I wrote to her immediately.  Weeks later, I finally got a letter back.  Her loopy handwriting gave away the point in time of innocence lost, the point in time when her development stalled.  The "I's" were occasionally dotted with hearts as if the letter had been written by a middle-schooler.  The letter was beautiful.  She wrote about God, going so far as to tell me that He was, in-fact, "what she had been searching for this whole time."  Years earlier we had given her a copy of a book called Redeeming Love, a book I highly recommend.  She told me that somehow that book had followed her into prison yet again, and she has read and re-read it over and over.  "It gives me so much hope," she wrote.  Tears filled my eyes and the eyes of my co-workers as we poured over her words.

She told us in the letter that she was going to be imprisoned for a long time.  Possibly life.  I couldn't believe my eyes, and I couldn't believe that she would have done something so heinous to deserve this.  My friend.  Whatever she did, she didn't say.  She isn't ready.  But she told us that she had a court date soon, and pleaded with us to come.  We put it on our calendar, and I couldn't wait to see her.

The day finally came for her to sit in front of a judge for the preliminary hearing.  I sat and waited as the men went first, one by one, to the podium for sentencing.  They rushed through them quickly, and the room cleared except for the five armed guards.  The back door creaked open, and in walked my dear friend.  She wore the red jumpsuit indicating a threat of some kind and segregated housing.  She had been on 23 hour-a-day lockdown, which means no communication, no interaction, no life.  There was no fear in her eyes, only disdain.  I had only seen her like this once before, when she had protected my life the day I wandered into a potentially bad situation.  She didn't notice us sitting there, so we just watched.

My heart broke with every passing minute.  I began to realize the permanence of this situation.  She was on her way to being sentenced for a lifetime in prison.  And there was nothing I could do about it.  She had broken the law to such an extent that it warranted extreme punishment.  There was no protecting her.  There were no answers.  This was it.  Years of relationship and love, years of victories and defeat, years of walking through life together, had culminated at this moment.

Just as she was about to take the stand, and just after a particularly terrifying glare to one of the police officers standing by, she finally saw us.  Her harsh exterior melted in an instant, less than an instant.  She wept, and smiled, and wept some more all at the same time.  That was the girl I knew.  She mouthed "I love you guys" over and over again until she was told to stop, which she did for a moment, only to pick back up when her accusers turned away.  She tried to tell us what she was facing.  32 to life in prison.  "But it's ok guys, I have God.  He's with me" she whispered, comforting us when we had nothing to comfort her.

The next hour is a blur.  They read some of her charges, I will leave the details out, but they were indeed horrible.  She had been consumed in the past year, having been overtaken by the fire of a life that was hijacked by horrendous circumstances and poor choices.  They led her away, her hands and feet were chained.  She cried.  And as they led her through the door, she yelled at us over her shoulder, "I'm so sorry!  I love you guys!"  She said it over and over until we could no longer see her.  And that was that.  We walked out of the room, not to return until the final hearing when she will be sentenced officially.  That date is June 7, 2012.

Friends, you might be thinking that this is one downer of a story.  There is a tension here that is inescapable.  And the tension is this: our efforts didn't "work".  Plain and simple.  The love that we got to show her didn't "fix" all of her "problems".  And let me tell you, this is difficult for me to come to terms with.  Over the years, I have maintained hope and excitement in her story.  And I still do hope, but there is a certain feeling of closure now.  There is a feeling of finality.  Do you feel it too?  But for there to be tension, there must be an opposing force, another side to the coin.

Allow me to encourage you with a few things.  Number one, God is still not done with her.  I have seen this time and time again.  He is always in pursuit and I believe He always will be.  In-fact, she is in a place of surrender and peace like I haven't seen her in  before.  Number two, though she may be incarcerated for the rest of her days in this world (and maybe not, things can always change), she still has choices and she still has opportunities for reconciliation and rescue.  What a good God we get to live life with who chooses to give us the gift of choice and the ability to execute decisions.  Our friend has these opportunities, in or out of jail.  And number three, maybe her story is a lesson to all of us as to what love looks like.  Maybe it is a lesson as to why we choose to love someone.  Is it to fix them?  Is it to come up with a formula that "works" and saves them?  Or are we choosing to live a life defined by love because it is the best choice and because it is what Jesus did and told us to do?  I have come to believe that it is as simple as that.  My friend has taught me this: that love is powerful and that it can indeed change hearts and lives*.  We have all seen this!  But even if our efforts in love change nothing, to love is worth it simply for love's sake.  Thank you for having gone on this journey with me and with my friend for these years.  If you would, keep praying for her.  I pray for you often, that you may be encouraged to continue loving in your own circumstances, whatever those may be.

*For an encouraging story about what can happen when we choose to show love, check out the beginning of Mark chapter 2 in the Bible. 

years later...

Here's a quick story, unrelated to the beautiful Patagonian Andes, but very much beautiful.  Come on back to the blog in a few days for "day 1", and the continuation of the Torres del Paine tale!

I met her and her boyfriend in Denver, in 2006.  They lived homeless; I lived in a college town in Texas.  That first day we met, we sat and talked for hours and I remember little things, like where we were and even what they were wearing (bandanas, back-packs that were bursting at the seams, etc.).  I learned about their travels and even their struggles.  They were very transparent from the beginning.  I will never forget that.  These two were among the first street kids I met through Dry Bones.

The three of us became very close that summer.  I would look forward to seeing them downtown, at our picnics in the park, and even occasionally at church.  As time went on, I learned more and more and more about their stories.  They were both addicts, struggling through life with that suffocating demon and it's unrelenting torment.  They went through periods of sobriety, even a time or two in rehab, but the heroin seemed to always find them time and again.

Years slowly went by, and there were months when I wouldn't see either one of them.  They broke up eventually, which was for the best I suppose, but I was able to stay in contact with them individually.  He and I would go get lunch at Illegal Pete's, the best burrito spot in downtown Denver, and talk for hours.  She and I would sit down across a table from each other at Denver Women's Detention Center, a high security women's prison that scared the hell out of me.  The beeper gates, metal detectors, occasional armed guards, high barbed-wire fences, and visitor dress-code all played a part in the intimidation.  Women in this place were there for a reason, and it was never good.

She and I talked and wrote letters when we could.  I watched the ebb-and-flow of her life and imagined the possibilities.  Could she be free from the grip of heroin?  Could she raise her twins, be a great mom, and be able to not merely survive, but thrive?  Could she escape the streets?

On her last stay at Denver Women's, she began to answer those questions.  She was pregnant while in prison, and had the twins shortly before she was released (talk about a tough pregnancy).  She chose to enter a program for moms coming out of prison, and went there with her children immediately after having them.  This program was very intense, much like prison in a sense, but designed for people who truly desired change.  I don't know much about it because her time was spent accomplishing her goals and working towards her future - not sending letters.  So, we lost touch for a year or so.  I always wondered about her.  Every once in a while a co-worker of mine, Susan, would give me an update from something she learned about our friend.  Other than that, I was in the dark.

A couple months ago, there was a knock on our office door.  In walked my friend of 5 years.  I couldn't believe my eyes.  She had no scars, no scabs, no outward evidence of her previous addictions.  She looked so healthy.  She had no teeth; they had been removed for various reasons, temporarily leaving her mouth empty.  But even that was great to see.  It meant she was actively pursuing ways to better herself and realizing just how valuable she is.  We hugged for a long time that day and she showed me pictures of her twins - beautiful kids.  We chatted for a few minutes, and then she had to get going.  She had to go to work.

I saw her again just yesterday.  She came up to our office to say hello and to show off her new teeth.  She looked reborn.  Her hair was smooth and healthy, her skin was fresh and alive.  She flashed a smile with her newly acquired teeth, and in that one smile, I watched years of heartache and struggle begin melt away.  In front of me stood a determined and free woman.  Here stood a woman who had overcome much, and was thriving.  I swelled with pride for her accomplishments and was filled with wonder at her strength and at God's love.

Thank you, friends, for the way you love and support Dry Bones.  We never know when we will get to experience stories like this one, but when we do it sure is wonderful.  I hope you feel a part of it.  

cold...

This past Monday was the coldest 24 hours we have felt so far this winter.  It dipped close to 0 degrees, and went well below that with the wind chill.  This is what happens when the clouds that serve as a blanket suddenly clear out, leaving the earth exposed with no way to retain any degree of heat.  Even during the day, in the sun, the chilled air threatened to freeze any exposed skin.  The moisture from my breath froze into ice-sickles that clung to my beard.  I tried to dream of beaches or the scorching heat of summers back in Texas.  It didn't really help.

No one really stands around chatting when it is that cold.   The chill will creep through the soles of your shoes, up into your feet, until you finally feel it penetrate your core.  Street corners that are usually bustling with vendors and pedestrians sit silent, icy, and lonely.

This may all seem a bit dramatic.  Perhaps it is.  But imagine if you had no escape from the frozen concrete.  Whatever dramatization I or anyone else could possibly come up with, would still pale in comparison to the actual experience of living stranded and houseless in the winter.

I reminded myself that I had only been out there for a couple of hours...

That night, as we do every Monday night, we invited a few friends of ours who are sleeping outside, to spend an evening with us at the Dry Bones apartment/office/hideout.  We sat on comfortable couches, ate delicious, hot, home-cooked food, and enjoyed conversation and a lot of laughter.  We sat for hours, all of us avoiding the inevitable moment when we would have to leave the warmth.  I passed around hand warmers and you would have thought I was doling out gold coins - or possibly stacks of Subway gift cards.  "Put those in your pockets, in your sleeping bags, in your shoes, down your shirt," I suggested.  I have strategically used those magical sources of heat on nights spent in the wilderness, why not practice those same strategies on the streets?  We all swapped stories of our coldest nights.  I think they won.

Eventually, and in no hurry, my friends bundled up and walked out the door.  Unfortunately, their situations didn't change that night.  They trudged to their squats on the outskirts of downtown.  The moment felt much more bitter than sweet.  I think that God feels the sorrow and tastes the bitterness of the circumstances just as we do.  He knows the pain, and no-doubt hates it.  But I also believe that He is good, that He is active and working in the pain and hurt of this world, and that His love can and will change everything.

I pray they left encouraged.  I pray they left with a sense of worth and value.  I pray their stomachs didn't growl for the rest of the night.  I pray they left with motivation to experience life in new ways.  I pray that Monday night was the last straw and that it served as a catalyst for change.  I pray they continue to know their own value.  

sabbatical, glaciers, and a whole lot of travel...

Yes, it has been over a month since my last post.  Yes, I am sorry.  No, it wasn't because nothing was happening!  So, bear with me while I quickly get you up to speed...this will only take a minute.

I found out after I came on staff with Dry Bones (over three years ago!) that every three years each staff member gets to take a month-long sabbatical.  Our board of directors goes above and beyond to take care of us staffers and this is one of the ways they insure we are "well-fed and happy".  Courtney and I began plans for my month off pretty much immediately after getting married.  We had grand schemes of big travels to far-away places.  We saved every dollar we could and thought of adventures on nearly every continent.  We have friends who have been all over the world - from the Himalayas, to the Alps, to Africa, to Australia, to Japan and everywhere else it seems.  Needless to say, we had plenty of good conversations and stories about beautiful places around the globe to consider.

After much talk and weeks of brainstorming, we decided to forget everything we had been told and go to a place of which we knew very little.

I had heard of Patagonia for years.  Besides being "that awesome clothing brand" that all of us wanna-be mountaineers dream about while we sit at our desks, I didn't know much about the place itself.  I have to admit that if I was asked to point to Patagonia on a map, I may have had trouble knowing where to guide my finger.  It was simply some mystical, magical place that inspired cool clothes and extreme adventures.  I wanted both.

Courtney and I did some research.  It turns out that Patagonia is located in southern South America and encompasses large portions of Argentina and Chile.  It is also beautiful, and is packed with possibilities for the kind of trip that we were craving: gorgeous scenery, glaciers at every turn, zero predators, and the exact right amount of difficulty that deters many, but welcomes anyone who wishes to pound out the miles on rough terrain in order to see some incredible stuff.  We set our gaze on Parque Nacional Torres del Paine in the Southern Chilean Andes and started planning.

Multiple travel blogs and Lonely Planet trekking books later, November finally came.

Our packs - ready for 3 weeks away
from home

Everything was set.  Plane tickets: check.  Necessary gear: check.  Reservations at a small hostel in Puerto Natales, Chile, where we could get a good nights sleep and store a few items while we were on the trail: check.  I e-mailed the hostel weeks in advance in hopes of finding someone who might reply in English, and I got a response within an hour giving me the current conditions and confirmation that the daunting John Gardner Pass was indeed open for the season.  With that confirmation ringing in our ears like beautiful music, we flew out of Denver on November 8th.

Check the blog every few days for the continuation of the story.  I'll divide up the writing because one long post isn't as fun as multiple short ones!  So, stay tuned for lots of posts over the upcoming weeks.  My plan is to set them up like a travel blog with lots of details.  One thing we found during our preparation was that detailed and recent travel blogs were tough to come by, so I am going to provide as much info as I can for anyone thinking of doing this particular "best of South America" trek!

More to come...  

A note to those of you who are supporting me and Dry Bones.  I want to thank you for the sabbatical I just received.  Even though you may not have even known that I was off of the streets for a month, thank you.  I know what a gift time is, and there is no gift I value more.  Time to travel.  Time to think.  Time with God.  Time with Courtney.  Time by myself.  Time with friends.  Time...


Thank you for the way you love me, the street kids in Denver, and the rest of the staff here at Dry Bones.  My time off was amazing in the greatest sense of the word.  I gained new perspectives on the world, God, my dreams and goals, and life with Court'.  I hope you enjoy these simple musings from our trip to Patagonia.  Thank you friends!!

it's getting cold...

Hi friends!  I don't have long to write, but I wanted to ask for your prayers for my friends on the streets this week.  Tonight, winter begins.  Temperatures in the low-teens will be accompanied by 6-13 inches of snow.  Often, this first cold snap catches people off guard (it was 80 degrees yesterday!), and desperation becomes the defining sense among my friends who live homeless in Denver.  Thank you for the way you care for and love the homeless youth and young adults up here.

More writings to come.

much love
-Zach

Illuminate...

Hey y'all,
Just wanted to drop a quick plug-in for the Dry Bones event coming up THIS SATURDAY, October 15th!!  Learn about the event and purchase tickets ($20 online, $25 at the door) HERE.  It's called Illuminate, and here is a short description:

Join us on October 15th, and see your city like you've never seen it before.  This evening will Illuminate the streets of Denver, highlighting the homeless youth that Dry Bones serves.  Get ready to experience sights, sounds, light, darkness, stories, and songs, all intended to shed light on the beauty found around us.

- Hear true and powerful stories
- See compelling artwork and photography
- Experience poetry and performance
- Listen to street-inspired music
- Be encouraged and challenged to Illuminate the darkest corners of Denver and your neighborhood

If you live out of town, or simply can't make it, never fear!  There are ways that you can participate virtually RIGHT HERE.

Also, a friend of mine has been hanging tire swings all over downtown Denver.  Random?  Yes.  Awesome?  Absolutely!!!  Most of them have been torn down, but one remains.  Some of my friends on the streets found it...

And, because pictures are cool, here are some recent shots of beautiful Colorado!  Enjoy

Maroon Bells...my first time to see this iconic view! 

Me and my girl on the sweet ride up to the Bells from Aspen, CO!

scared of the dark...

I quickly learned that the "event" in the courtroom from earlier that day, was simply the thin cover for her frantic phone call.  She had bigger problems.  We told her to meet us for a hot drink.  Coffee shops on cold days (yes, it is already getting colder here!) have that affect; they bring out conversation, honesty, and in this case tears.  Tears from the last person I expected to ever see tears.

On first impression alone, my friend Amy could easily be seen as intimidating.  She has earned great respect on the streets and has experienced things that I can't even imagine.  She amazes all of us.  She has, on more than one occasion, stepped in between me and a potential threat.  And I have no problem with that.  So, when she began to cry, I was surprised.

She cried and told me and my co-workers, Matt and Reb, that she is terrified of being alone, yet she is finding herself in that position more and more.  She told us, "Guys, I'm so scared of the dark.".  She doesn't know how to escape this life on the streets.  Though she has made great strides in recent years including successfully completing probation, finding jobs, obtaining a small apartment, depending less and less on alcohol, and so much more, she feels trapped.  "Kids know where I live, and no matter how hard I try to tell them to stay away, they keep coming around.  I can't get away from it."

My heart broke.  Here was a girl who wanted out of "the game".  A girl who wasn't supposed to be scared of anything.  Nothing scares Amy.  She fights, and brawls, and drinks, and protects.  She can't be scared of the dark.  Oh, how many times do I have to re-learn not to judge a book by its cover, as the worn out phrase goes?   How many times do I have to learn that my friends on the streets, my friends in all walks of life, have beautiful and often-times broken hearts that are hidden by layers and layers of pain and lies?

I feel so honored to have seen this side of my friend.  I listened to her cry, listened to her honesty about loneliness, listened to her descriptions and expectations and assumptions about men form her experience of mistreatment.  She was so transparent.

Why can't I be more like her; honest and open and real?

I suddenly realized that I may as well have been speaking with a frightened 10 year-old girl who felt all alone in a dark alley.  I saw Jesus in her that day.  I saw Jesus' gentle nature and His own humanness.  I had the chance to speak value into her and tell her that she deserves so much better than the treatment she received in the past that has caused her so much pain and fear.  I got to tell her how much she is worth.  I told her that we were always available to her when she was lonely.  I even invited her to our Bible study, and saw apprehension, relief, confusion, hope, and nervousness cross her face in an instant, all at the same time.

God is so good.  He is subtle in His pursuit of hearts, and getting to glimpse the beautiful chase makes me wonder all the more at the Jesus we serve and follow.

Do you know anyone who is scared of the dark?

summer...

Hello hello!  It has been so long since I have written.  I still haven't figured out a way to take my laptop with me into the backwoods of Colorado to do a better job of keeping in touch...so I had to wait until now to give updates.  But before I regale you with a few stories of beautiful mountain ascents, struggles, fire-side chats, asthma attacks, and lessons learned, let me say that I am so grateful for everyone who continues to support me, Dry Bones, the kids on the streets, and the students who participate in Elevations.  Everything we do here in Denver is because of you and your love.  Thank you!  As always, to those of you reading this blog who have no clue what this "Dry Bones" is that I keep referring to, check out the links on the right-hand side of the page!

Me, Cole (my mountain intern...not sure what he's doing here!), Reb (staff),
Kate (intern), and Suz (intern) on top of Bard Peak - my summer office

Ok, story time!

I decided that a fun way to do this would be to give you my "Top 10 Things I Learned While Guiding This Summer" list:

1)  I learned that I definitely DON'T like being away from my wife for four days out of every week.  I missed my best friend a lot.
2)  I learned that even though someone might say "I can't do this" more times than I can count, they in-fact CAN do it.  My most-used line this summer was something like, "Well, you have been telling me from day one that you can't go any farther and yet here you are on day three, just one mile from summit.  Therefore, you have no credibility with me anymore, and I don't believe you when you say you can't.  So let's go!"  Haha, I got some really good practice for any potential coaching or motivational speaking that might come my way.
3)  I learned that if it snows enough all winter, the sticks and logs on the ground stay wet all summer, making fire-building extremely difficult!
4)  I learned that asthma attacks at 13,000 feet are scary, both for the person experiencing the constricted airway and for the guide.  One girl, who was my favorite and the most impressive student of the summer, made summit despite a relatively violent asthma attack a few hundred feet from the top.  She mouthed "I can't breathe" as she collapsed to the ground.  I ran back to her and dug through her pockets for the small device that would essentially shock her lungs into action.  I held it to her mouth and she gasped for air.  Had she experienced just one more episode like that, I would not have continued on with her.  But, she was tough and finished with the rest of the group an hour later.
5)  I learned that I never get tired of the incredible beauty found in the mountains, even on my 30th trip to the same area.
6)  I learned that there is value in repetition.  I get to lead chats around the camp-fire all summer long, and the stories we read together spoke into my life in some really cool ways.  I'll post the mountain "talks" soon incase you want to share a piece of the Elevations experience.
7)  I learned that spending a few days with my awesome new family at Folly Beach, near Charleston, SC, is the perfect way to relax and unwind at the summer half-way mark.  Thanks Gregg, Kelly and Isaiah for a great time!
8)  I learned that God is bigger, more complex, more perplexing, more beautiful, more exciting, and more inspiring than I ever imagined.
9)  I learned patience.
10)  I learned all over again the power of relationship, and the value of walking alongside the people around us, no matter what those lives might look like.  I am often guilty of assuming that the youth group kids who come on Elevations have their lives completely together and have every good thing going for them just because they aren't "street kids".  This is not always the case.  They struggle, just like I do, like you do, like the kids on the streets do.  And we got to share life together in a setting far from home.  There is just something cool about adventure.

Thanks for reading, friends.

Much love from Denver,
-Zach

camping...

Here are some pics of a recent camping trip to O'Haver Lake, just outside of Salida.  We took a few friends of ours that we know from the streets, packed up the coolers, and headed for the hills.  

The view was perfect

Not our boat...but that's us in the water!

Not sure if this was pre or post flip...but it was getting intense!

Six of us had the chance to do a little whitewater rafting on our second day in the wilderness.  It was, to say the least, intense.  I am by no means a whitewater rafting expert; I've been twice now.  So, I figured that the odds of my raft flipping in the middle of the Arkansas River's massive, spring run-off, rapids was pretty slim.  I forgot to knock on wood.

I, and one of our interns, sat at the front of the boat.  I was quite excited about this; the cool spray of the water on my face would bring welcome relief from the hot sun.  A quarter of the way through the trip, our guide began yelling commands that were no longer for practice. We paddled till our muscles ached.   Suddenly, I realized that I was paddling air.  The raft went nose up and I found myself falling past everyone else into the torrent of ice-cold water.  This was not as pleasant or refreshing as the spray on my face was just minutes earlier.  By the time I surfaced, we were flying downstream, all of us desperately trying to find something of substance to hold onto.  Panic crept in.  Unfortunately, our boat capsized mid-way through this section of rapids, so we rode the rest of the flume submerged in the water, hoping it would stop soon.  We held on to the boat and eachother.  We were in it together.  There were no distinctions of street kid and staff member, intern or river guide.  No "us" and "them".  It was only us...all of us.  The guide screamed for us to let go of the boat so they could flip it back over.  We all let go.  When I released my grip on the emergency rope that is attached the boat's sides, I was swept away from the boat by a current that found only me.  I watched as the others were pulled one-by-one back into the raft.  Fortunately, as I floated farther and farther from the group, I saw an opportunity to swim for a small sand-bar.  I went for it!  My hands touched ground.  A friendly group of rafters that had been behind us watching the whole thing, paddled up to me and pulled me in.  They brought me back to my group.  No one was hurt. 
It's amazing how adversity seems to bring people together.  There is beauty to be found in the midst of struggle.  One of my favorite musicians, Brandi Carlile, sings about this in her song "Caroline".  She sings to her young niece, Caroline, about the things she will see someday.  "Towers in the sky" and "city lights and city sounds", to name a few.  But, through it all, she wants Caroline to see that "there's beauty in the struggle".  I found this to be very, very true.

rambling...

This one is pretty raw.  I didn't do much editing; I guess it's more of a journal entry.

This morning, I studied for Elevations.  I studied stories and wrote out thoughts to discuss around a camp fire in Colorado's Front Range.  At lunch, I drove to a local park where I meet up with street kids twice a week for a running group I am starting.  No one showed.  It was pretty cold though, so I didn't mind.  Also this afternoon, I shopped for office supplies.  If there were office-related, non-marriage, equivalents to "honey-do's", that is how I spent a portion of my afternoon.  Later on I took my friend "Bob" to the bowling alley that we and our friends go to every week.  Last week he and another guy nearly got into a fight in the parking lot.  They didn't listen to my warnings and the owner of the bowling alley came out.  "I don't need this man!" he said.  The brawl continued to grow.  I told him I didn't need it either.  Finally, we got everyone relatively calmed down and back on the bus.  Over the next 5 minutes, while I talked with owner, 5 police cars rolled by one after another.  The owner banned Bob and the other kid from the bowling alley.  The next day I ran into Bob downtown and he pulled me aside and apologized for disrespecting me, Dry Bones, and the bowling spot.  I told him that I really appreciated it and that all was forgiven.  I had to tell him that the owner said he wasn't allowed to come back, but I also told him that an apology might go a long way.  We made a plan to go out there.  That happened this afternoon after the office-shopping.  He approached the owner and told him that he was sorry.  It was powerful, y'all.  Things on the streets are more often than not handled with violence.  Rarely with talking.  Bob set an example today.  He made something right and didn't use his fists.  The owner invited him to come back.  I was so proud of my friend.  The bus rolled up to the bowling alley shortly after that and we all bowled for the next couple of hours.  Spirits were high and there was no drama.  Later, after bowling, the wind outside at the meal was freezing, and I regretted shaving my winter beard.  But we all huddled around together and enjoyed being together.

Much love
-Zach

the first post since 2008

Hello friends!  I realized, as I began the brainstorming process for this blog, that I had an old, rarely used blog from a few years ago.  Honestly, I had forgotten that I had it.  After reading the old posts and enjoying the nostalgia that came along with that, I decided to simply revive this one and make it new, relevant, and fresh.  I had a lot of updating to do.  So I got to work.  I cut and cropped, edited and tweaked, dusted off a few of the old posts I thought you might enjoy and deleted the others, wrote page descriptions, and updated "about me" information.  I put up a couple of pictures - because everyone loves pictures! -  including the awesome panorama at the top of the page that my wife took in Moab, UT.  Our new camera has this great feature that allows us to take shots like that!

Anyways, I finally got everything looking how I want it and I'm excited to finally share it!  When you have some time to browse around, be sure to check out the "why this blog?" article under the pages heading (located on the right hand column), the several blogs I am following, and the other links and tabs scattered around.  Please feel free to share this blog with anyone who might enjoy it...and maybe even with people who wouldn't naturally gravitate towards something like this!  I have installed options at the end of each post that will enable you to share any posts you like with your friends via e-mail, facebook, twitter, etc.  Also, you can subscribe to this blog so that every time I write something new you will be notified on your e-mail.  Look for the tab called "follow this blog by e-mail" on the right-hand column.  Just type your e-mail there and you will automatically be added to the list!  It's that easy.

I'm practicing adding links and such, so I'm going to try it here.  Instead of writing a story, I am adding a link of one of my speaking engagements from a little over a year ago.  In December of 2009, Garnett church in Tulsa, OK invited me out for a Back to Life weekend (Back to Life is a program that I head up at Dry Bones desigend to follow up with the youth groups that visit us in the summer time...more on all of this later).  We spent the weekend remembering the Elevations experience we shared over the summer, exploring the "bleeding places" of Tulsa, and serving together.  Garnett graciously allowed me to share a few words at their Sunday service, both in the high-school class and in the main assembly.  To hear the podcast, titled "What we are Learning from Dry Bones", that includes thoughts from Lance Newsom and one of the teen Elevations participants from the summer of '09, click HERE.  Thanks for checking it out!

Much love
-Zach

a little bit of august...

I was anxious to see the volume of people coming into Denver for the Democratic National Convention. I was anxious to experience the city pulsing with new life. I was anxious to see how our youth would be treated. I was anxious to make new relationships. I was anxious, and even excited, to witness the protests and rallies. All of this anticipation, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw as we walked the downtown streets.

“Ask me why YOU deserve to go to HELL!” My heart dropped and I hung my head in shame as I approached the banner waving these poisonous words. Riot police surrounded the group of christians (emphasis on the little “c”), protecting them from the enraged and ever-growing crowd of pedestrians; men, women and children. Other signs that littered the street corner and held up traffic for blocks on the 16th St. Mall read:

“Homo sex is a threat to national security,”
“Looking for change? Then do what Christ said and repent,”
“WARNING: Baby Killing Women, Party Animals, Rebellious Women, So Called Christians, Liberals, Jesus Mockers, Porno Freaks, Muslims, Drunks, Homosexuals, Sex Addicts, Mormons…GOD WILL JUDGE YOU!”

We got closer to the horrifying display and watched in disbelief as insults were hurled into the crowd from the christians. “Can you even read?” they spat with hatred. Accusing questions like, “What cave did you just crawl out of?” and “What planet are you from?” rolled off of their tongues with unbridled anger and self-righteousness.

We watched the spectacle with a growing sense of despair and sadness. I was sick to my stomach. The scene was one of the single most heartbreaking experiences of my life. Where did this attitude come from? They were dragging Jesus’ name through the dirt. I looked helplessly at the throngs of people passing by watching this scene unfold. I have never been bombarded by so many emotions at one time. I felt a heavy sadness because Jesus, for many of these people, was now associated with threatening language and hatred. I felt a raging anger towards those who held the signs; in a single moment, they caused unspeakable damage. I even felt shame. Shame because, since I am a Christian, I was involuntarily associated with this hate rally.

I walked away with my co-workers, some of us were crying. Others, like me, simply walked in silent shock. Above all the emotions – sadness, anger, shame – I felt something else that had a stronger pull. I was motivated and rejuvenated. More than ever I was convinced of my job, and your job, to love. We must re-define Christianity to a watching world. The extreme hate and judgment being passed out in Denver this week must be combated with tactics from the opposite extreme. Thousands of people, after this week, see Christians as people who hate. Period. We have to change this.

I wonder, what if we became a group of people known for the way we love homosexuals? What if we became a group of people known for coming alongside those struggling with addictions? What if we became a group of people known for the way we embrace people of other religions and backgrounds? What if we became a group of people known for the way we love women who have had, or are thinking about having, abortions? What if instead of calling those women murderers, we told them how much they and their children are worth? What if we decided right now, today, to adopt would-be-aborted babies? We tell young women not to have abortions, but are we willing to give them another option?

These questions and so many more filled my head while we walked that day. We passed other protests, some peaceful and some not so friendly, and continued walking toward Civic Center Park. We approached a group of our friends; they jumped up and smothered us in hugs. We talked for a while, making sure that they were doing okay. Then we walked some more, taking in every bit of the historic event. At the intersection of Broadway and Colfax we turned right and cut through the park to escape the busy streets. Anti-war booths and anarchist gatherings dotted the lawn that stretched all the way from the capitol building to the courthouse. People milled about, some watching and others declaring their opinions to anyone who would listen.

Tattooed, dread-locked, hippies relaxed in the sunshine. Droves of police, outfitted in full riot gear with masks down and guns out, stood nearby occasionally walking in single-file through the crowd to make their presence known. I took it all in, amazed by the eclectic group of people. We walked up to the hippie gathering and saw a sign that read “Doc’s Place” and another one that said, “Food not Bombs.” As it turned out, “Doc’s Place” was a volunteer-run, free medical clinic. Anyone could come by and receive limited, but free, medical care. “Food not Bombs” was a group that thought “…dropping food instead of bombs…” was the cool thing to do, so they decided to fix three meals a day for anyone who wanted food. They cooked everything on-site and if you ate, the only requirement was that you wash your own dishes in the provided buckets of soapy water, and then hang them in a tree to dry.

Naturally, it being dinner time and us being really hungry, we hopped in line to get some food. On the menu was some kind of lentil concoction, rice, bread, carrots, and water. I was served by a girl who had obviously not showered in several days (maybe weeks) and was adorned with a variety of tattoos and piercings. She smiled and asked how I was doing. I said I was doing just great and thanked her for the food. In the kitchen was a collection of people, mostly young adults, who seemed to draw energy from each other and the people that they were serving. All of them wore tattered clothes, bandanas (which I learned later was to shield their faces from tear gas and from being identified), unique hair-styles, and back-packs that had obviously seen some miles. There was a nearly even split of guys and girls, with a small but obvious number of people who were transgender. But, that didn’t seem to matter to any of them. Everyone was accepted. It was one of the best meals I have ever shared with anyone.

Friends, I witnessed two very different groups of people this week. One group was filled with hate, judgment, and self-righteousness. The other group was loving, accepting, and humble. One group was insulting and abrasive and the other group just wanted to serve food and take care of people. One group called themselves Christians, the other group stayed as far away from them as they could. The way I see it, one group looked and acted like Jesus, and it wasn’t those who claimed to be His followers. This is the ultimate tragedy.

I challenge you and myself to re-define Christianity. We can take back Jesus’ name and represent Him accurately; with love, excitement, and passion. Change will not happen over-night. As I have learned with my friends on the streets, change takes time. But that is okay. I remind myself of this daily: change takes time and that is okay. Results are in God’s hands and in His timing. We never know what part of someone’s story we are engaging in. We may be the one who plants the first seed of Christ’s love. We may be the 100th person to plant that seed. We may be simple soil-tillers so that someday Jesus’ love can take root. But I am convinced that when we love like Jesus, we are slowly but surely helping to prepare someone’s heart for God to do His work. Love well, brothers and sisters. Re-define Christ for the people in your lives with love and see what happens.