Who the Heck is Jamie?!

Living in a Body

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Who the Heck is Jamie?!

Episode 16 -- On the Verge of a Religious Experience

Hal Walker

May 07, 2022

Hi. I’m Hal. I’m still living in a body and this is still “Living in a Body.” Welcome! To hear me narrate the story with music and to support my work, please click the play button. (11 minute listen) Thank you for being here. I appreciate you. Hal

Who the Heck is Jamie?!

(Press Play)

My mom refers to herself as a seeker. I guess that’s what I am, too. At the age of 56, you’d hope that I would’ve done a little more finding by now, but here I am — seeking, yearning, doubting, avoiding, questioning, struggling and longing. I can’t remember exactly how she said it, but a friend of mine recently suggested that God is in the longing. I wish I knew what she meant by that. I guess I could ask her.

Several years ago, I dropped off my Prius at the Main Street Auto Center in Kent for some repairs. A few days later, as expected, I picked up the car, paid the bill and drove away. When I turned on the car stereo, I was greeted with music that I’d never heard before. In my CD player was a mysterious homemade CD with nothing but some handwritten text on it — “Jamie* 4-21-2018.” Within minutes of hearing the music, I started crying. Driving down the road with the stereo turned up, filled with emotion, tears running down my face, I was bawling.

Even though my dad was a Presbyterian minister, we didn’t talk about God much in the house. When it came to faith, we were a cynical bunch. My dad said a prayer before every family dinner but never before breakfast or lunch. We never prayed in restaurants and as a family, we were generally opposed to any inkling of public piety. We were raised to question. The ultimate goal in life was to be a thinker. My dad’s brain was so full of books and thinking that somewhere along the way, I decided to leave the historical theologizing to him and I, instead, went desperately in search of a girlfriend. Church was my duty and my obligation. Every Sunday morning, I wore my Sunday best, but my time in the pew was spent dreaming about pinball — and girlfriends. (see Stolen Quarters)

The music I heard on that CD broke through the analytical part of my brain. The trance pop melodies sung by soulful female voices shook my doubt and made me grieve for a simpler faith. The power drums and the huge bass broke me down from my high tower of intellect. Though my resistance to Christian praise music is deep rooted, these songs were calling me to the altar. Track after track revealed the pain of my having spent years trying to figure out who God is. The combination of the song lyrics and the live congregational singing brought forth my longing for religious community. As I drove, I put my heart and my hands in the air in an act of surrender. I remember driving along Wyoga Lake Rd. in Stow in tears and being on the verge of a religious experience — desperately wanting to let go but still holding on. I kept that CD in my car for six weeks. Every time I pressed play, I would almost instantly start weeping.

“In the glory of your presence,
I find rest for my soul.
In the depths of your Love,
I find peace — makes me whole.
I love, I love, I love your presence 2x
I love, I love, I love you, Jesus.”
“I Love Your Presence” by Darren and Jessie Clarke

In my twelve step program, we often talk about doing the “next right action.” At some point, it occurred to me that the next right action was to return to the Main Street Auto Center and give the disc back to the rightful owner. After I made my own copy, I approached the shop with the Jamie CD in hand. I remember feeling shy and a little bit embarrassed. I had a feeling that the return of this CD would be a bit outside of the norm for these grease covered mechanics. But I knew I was doing the right thing.

I walked in, waited in line and then explained what happened. I apologized that it had taken so long for me to return. As I handed the CD to the shop owner, he made it very clear, “Our mechanics would never put a CD in the stereo of a customer’s car. That’s against our policy. It’s not our CD. Our guys wouldn’t do that.” He put the disc back in my hand and I returned to my car dumbfounded. “What? How could this be?” Suddenly, my understanding of the world turned upside down. “Then how the heck did this CD get in my car? Who put it there? This is crazy!” To this day, I have no idea where that CD came from.

Months later, I made one more attempt to figure it out. I saw Hallie’s high school friend Jamie walking in downtown Kent. We hadn’t really spoken in years, but I stopped her on the street and asked her to sit down for the whole story. She laughed and thanked me for asking, but she assured me that the Jamie CD was not hers. I’m still bewildered.

When I started writing this post, I went in search of the disc. I’m glad to say that I found it still living in the CD player of my car. (I rarely drive these days.) With the help of Spotify and Shazam, I’ve learned that the songs on the CD are mostly tracks from a live worship album called “Here is Love.” The singers, Jenn Johnson, Kim Walker-Smith and Leah Mari are part of the worship team at Bethel Church in Redding, California. This morning, as I traveled a slow wheelchair journey back and forth from my kitchen to the grill on my front porch, I listened to the songs on Spotify. They gave me some comfort. As I soaked in the music, I felt a kind of sad, quiet contentment. It was as though I was making peace with the grief and the loss in my body and in my home. My thinking slowed way down and I teared up a couple times.

Recently, more than ever, I’ve been brought to me knees. Rendered ever more helpless, it seems that the spiritual solution is gonna my best option. Over and over again, I learn that the things I’ve tried in the past don’t solve the problem. 20 million views on a TikTok video won’t bring me closer to God. Acquiring more musical instruments won't offer me peace and contentment. And finding a new girlfriend isn’t gonna fix my life problem. They say it’s an inside job and no matter the circumstances, one day at a time, right action leads to right thinking which leads to…. who knows what — the great unfolding?

I’m grateful to be on this journey — this bonus life of mine. Often, I wish that the universe would lighten up a little bit on me, but I know it’s my job to lighten up. I’m interested in the idea of holding this illness lightly and just going along for the ride. The gifts are so abundant and they just keep coming. I mean that CD, for instance… where the heck did that thing come from? The whole story reminds me to keep my eyes wide open for the miracle. You never know where it’s gonna show up.

My friend said that God is in the longing. And there’s no doubt that I’m longing. I’m longing to take a walk down by the river. I’m longing for community. I’m longing for better health. I’m longing for healing in all my relations. I’m longing for peace to breathe through my whole body. I’m longing for freedom from my old ways of thinking. I’m longing to trust the unfolding and to love what is.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading and for listening. I appreciate you. In fact, I am you. Thank you, highest power, for all the gifts of this moment. I love you.