New Devotional and Soundtrack Out Now

And meditation on Black men crying

What’s good everyone,

Today I have two announcements for you and a meditation on crying.

Announcement 1: The first half of the track-by-track devotional is live for my album Beside Still Waters: A Notes of Rest Offering. (You’ll see below why it’s only the first half today.) This album was released last week on Election Day to walk everybody through Psalm 23 with the reminder that no matter who won, God was our shepherd and host. Given I gravely did not want Trump to win, I am thankful to have this record even more so now as a reminder of who God is and who we are to God. Troublesome times are ahead, but God remains our shepherd who laid down God’s life for the sheep. Praise ye the Lord.

Announcement 2: Today I am delighted to announce that my first-ever score is released! It is for the Audible Original Last Days of Cabrini-Green.

Last Days of Cabrini-Green is a harrowing story that integrates investigative journalism and dramatization around Chicago’s notorious housing complex Cabrini-Green. This podcast series walks through the story of a mother and son who lived there, zooming in and out between their story and the story of the whole complex. I’m thankful to have worked on this with the award-winning journalist Ben Austen and Campfire Media.

It was an honor to work on the score for this, for which my groups Circle of Trust and The JuJu Exchange I supplied three tracks: Main Theme, Solemn (a ballad for the tragic moments of the podcast), and an upbeat yet haunting tune called Ground Down which speaks to the integrated, disintegrative work of Chicago’s economic and political machines to oppress the Black folk living there. It is a tough story, but it is a necessary story to tell which I pray will inform the way poor Black folk are cared for here in Chicago and around the country. Nova Zaii, Nico Segal, Dwayne Verner Jr., Isaiah Collier, Micah Collier, and Wes Julien all helped me make this happen. I’m so thankful for the crew that helped this come about. (Stay tuned for a streaming version of the soundtrack of the three tunes.)

If you get a chance to listen to the podcast, I’d love to hear your thoughts. I haven’t heard the whole project myself yet so this is going to be a ride for us all.

Meditation on Crying: I had a very thick weekend this past weekend. I had a little Notes of Rest tour between Minnesota and Iowa, which I capped off with a Circle of Trust show in Iowa. In the midst of serving Plymouth UCC in Des Moines, IA, I learned that my friend Michael Burkes had passed in the middle of the night. Man that cracked me open.

I had known Mike longer than anyone else on earth other than my parents because Mike, his twin Myeko, and I met in utero during our mamas’ prenatal classes. He was a day younger than me and a lifelong brother. With his passing, I have lost a part of my mosaic and I am grieving the new hole that’s formed that I must now learn to live with.

It was intense to learn of that news Sunday morning and then offer my ministry through Notes of Rest at two services and then through Circle of Trust that afternoon. At the end of one of the services, when I was framing why I was going to play the Negro spiritual Give Me Jesus, my voice cracked when I rehearsed the lyrics, “And when I come to die, give me Jesus.” This has always been a relevant prayer for all who hold this song from enslaved ancestors near and dear, but that day it was especially poignant to me, and I knew the congregation could sense that.

It was a tad awkward crying in front of a largely White audience. I’m aware of the long history of those optics, but in that moment I didn’t care. My friend was dead and this was my humanity. I was not performing Black pain to arouse White sympathies; I was just sitting with my void before God, in their presence. That’s an important emotional posture we all need to take in these post-election days. Staying in touch with our deeper feelings keeps us supple before God and each other.

I am thankful that I grieve deeply, that I am in touch with my love of Mike enough to cry openly in front of my wife Carmen and baby girl Lydia. (Lydia be just staring and staring, lol, as if to say what the heck is this? Haha, that’s all good, she’ll understand it better by and by.) Public mourning is a sign that we loved. And I am thankful to have been shaped as a Black man who loved/loves his friend to profess that love through tears.

I suspect we’d have fewer mass shootings and human trafficking markets if more men cried more routinely.

Lord may men - Black men and otherwise - grow soft enough to cry over those they love, including themselves.

Come, Holy Spirit. Amen.

abundantly,

Julian

What’s Next

Nov 15-16 Julian Davis Reid & Circle of Trust at Andy’s (Chicago)

Nov 21 The JuJu Exchange at Jazz Institute of Chicago (Chicago)

Nov 23 Julian Davis Reid & Circle of Trust (Chicago)

Nov 25 Notes of Rest Working Group 7.15p (for paid subscribers only)

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Save the Dates

The Last Days of Cabrini Green Audible Originals Podcast (I scored the soundtrack) (Nov 14 TODAY!)

Feb 22-23 Black Contemplative Prayer Summit - Notes of Rest on Feb 23 (Virtual)

First-ever Notes of Rest Overnight Retreat - May 30-31, 2025 (Oregon, IL)