The Closest I'll Get To A Sermon

It just doesn't FEEL like Christmas. This is what I keep saying to people. I'm not sure exactly what I'm wanting to feel. For starters, the 70 degree weather we had at the beginning of this week was no help. There is something wrong with running the air conditioner in my car while Christmas lights twinkle on my neighbors' bushes. And then we had a wreck. I was taking Sydney to the dentist when we were rammed by two young guys in an old, beat up car, neither of whom had car insurance OR driver's licenses. "Merry Christmas," I grumbled to myself.

"Mama, it was just an accident, wasn't it?" Sydney asked.

"Bah humbug!" I thought to myself.

I AM thankful that Sydney and I were okay. Mark came to our rescue. The guys were begging me not to call the police so I figured I'd let him come down and "deal with them."

We switched cars and I rushed Syd on to the dentist because, when given the chance to reschedule, I had retorted "oh no, we're getting SOMETHING out of this trip. I didn't take my daughter out of school just to go have a wreck!" We raced from the dentist back to school to pick up Sydney's friend and hurry on to McDonald's to meet some more little girls. My head was throbbing and my body was starting to feel sore. To be honest, I was still pretty irritated by the whole thing.

And then I talked to Mark. Mark let the guys go. He didn't call the police. Turns out they were in town from Michigan doing some construction work to make money for Christmas. One of the guys had a five year old son. Whatever they had done to lose their licenses, at least they were trying to be responsible now. "I just couldn't ruin someone's life right here at Christmas by having them thrown in jail or something," Mark told me.

"That's why I love you," I told him. And to myself "I bet THEY feel like it's Christmas!"

As I've processed all of this the last couple of days, I decided to "bust" myself for whining that it doesn't "feel" like Christmas.

No matter how I feel, it does not change the fact that the Christmas story happened. As we sat at the Point Of Grace Christmas concert a few nights ago, the most touching moment came when special guest, Scott Krippayne, sang Sydney's favorite worship song "Here I Am To Worship". Her little face just lit up. She had only heard it in the car (100 times). As she opened her mouth and sang with all her heart, "light of the world, you stepped down into darkness..................all for love's sake became poor" I was struck by the "Christmas" message in the familiar words. It's about a fallen world and a Light of hope. Things were set in motion on that night when Jesus was born that would change the course of history. Those things are still in effect today.

Whether I can FEEL them, or not.

Goodbye, Jerry

Pat and Jerry happen to own the seats next to ours at the Titans games. They are about the age of my parents and we don't have that much in common with them. Although Pat and I often shared polite conversation, Jerry was very quiet and kept to himself at first. We were well into our second season together before he finally started "high-fiving" with Mark and some of the other guys. Sometime last season Pat confided in me that Jerry had been diagnosed with cancer. He never looked or acted sick. Not even at the one or two games he came to this season. The last words I said to Jerry, back in September were, "we'll see you at the end of the season - at the last game!" He was about to have bone marrow transplant surgery and the recovery would keep him away from his beloved Titans games until late December. I am sorry to say that I found out today at the game that he died last month. We sat next to his son today and he told us that Jerry just never got healthy enough to have the surgery that could have saved his life. I feel so bad for Pat. I could tell that she and Jerry had a great friendship. They truly enjoyed going to those Titans games together.

I took it pretty hard. I know I looked visibly shocked when Jerry's son (I think his name is Lee) gave us the news. How do you grieve the loss of an acquaintance? I couldn't believe he was gone. I immediately put myself in Pat's shoes and felt the sadness wash over me. And here it is the holiday season.

I emailed Pat when we got home from the game. I told her I was so glad to have known Jerry. And I meant it. Because the truth is that somewhere over the course of two and a half football seasons, after sharing victory and defeat, touch downs and interceptions, we became more than acquaintances. He was our fellow Titans fanatic. And that made him our friend.

Goodbye, Jerry. You will be missed.

The Labrador Effect

No one in our house is getting much sleep these days. Who would've thought one yellow, lab-mix canine could so upset the delicate balance of our sleep patterns. Maggie has quite suddenly decided that she VERY MUCH wants to sleep in Sydney's room. I can't for the life of me figure out why sneaking up (and shedding) on the couch isn't good enough for her anymore. I really don't mind if Maggie sleeps in Sydney's room. She just seems to want to curl up next to the bed on a nest of dress-up clothes. The thing is that Sydney VERY MUCH does NOT want Maggie in her room. So here's what happens: Maggie opens Syd's door and starts to circle and make herself at home - which wakes Sydney up. Sydney hops out of bed and comes and gets in bed with me and Mark. She will stay until either I feel claustrophobic or she kicks Mark in the ribs - whichever comes first. One of us will then escort her back to her bed. When it is my shift, I lie in bed with her until I think she's fallen back asleep. Then I attempt to sneak out. I say "attempt" because it often takes more than one try. I will swear that she's out, but nine times out of ten she will catch me as soon as I stand up. When I finally make it back to bed, I lie there anticipating the next cycle of this middle of the night "musical beds" game that we play. I'm usually irritated by it all. I take my sleep very seriously. However, a couple of nights ago I laughed to myself as I lay there thinking about my very polite, timid dog, who wouldn't ever MEAN to put anybody out. As I drifted off to sleep the thought running through my head went something like this: if a yellow dog wags her tail in Tennessee.......does she trigger a hurricane somewhere on the other side of the world? Or maybe it's wide-spread bouts of sleeplessness that she triggers!

Theologians, A Losing Streak and The Christmas Corner

I don't have anything specific that I want to talk about. I just feel like it's time for me to write another blog. I've been "researching" other people's blogs and quite honestly, I'm intimidated! Apparently, I didn't get the memo about being some kind of theologian if you want to write a blog. I struggled for about a week, trying to come up with something of redeeming spiritual value to bestow upon you. But the thing I keep coming back to is that I just have to be myself. If I accidentally say something inspirational, well, praise the Lord.

It is now official that the Titans are on a losing streak. They've lost 3 games in a row (please be advised that if the Titans were still on a winning streak, I would refer to them as "we" - as in "we WERE on a winning streak") Someday I would like to do some kind of human behavior study on sports fans. I cannot explain to you why I take it so hard when we lose (ahem, when THEY lose!) I mean, I don't KNOW them. It's like I share in all of the disappointment, but NONE of the outlandish NFL salaries that cushion the blow of defeat. Sigh. I don't know. I've said it before: I am NOT a good fan!

Well, Christmas is here. But isn't it still November?? I felt weird deliberating over Christmas decorations at Michael's today - at first. Jules and I ran in "for a quick 10 minutes" to grab a few things on the way to the studio. FORTY minutes later we lugged garland, ornaments and a neon green mini Christmas tree (for Syd's room) to the car. So I turned the corner. The Christmas corner. I remember having a dilemma in high school one year about whether it was too early in the season to give Gayla a Christmas sweatshirt for her birthday. Her birthday is December 7th!!!!! In this day and age, we've already had the tree up for two weeks, been to 3 parties and are already thinking about New Year's Eve by then!! The downside of this early celebration is trying to explain to little Sydney that no, it's NOT Christmas yet, it's the Christmas SEASON. I've explained this to her 10 times a day since Thanksgiving. Bless her little heart - I guess we have four more weeks of her excited exclamations of "Mama, look at the lights! Is it Christmas?? Is it Christmas right NOW??"

Those are my random thoughts for now. Maybe I will return soon with more organized thoughts!

A Little Perspective

Oh. My. Goodness! Disney World is overwhelming - and mostly in a GOOD way. Mostly. I think it's going to take a few days for me to process it all. We've been home for a few hours and I am still reeling. And I'm feeling like maybe it's time to go get in line for something! I did my research. Early to mid November was supposed to be the second slowest time of year at Disney World. HA! Turns out I forgot about Veteran's Day. The Orlando area schools were out on Monday, so EVERYONE decided to take a little weekend trip to Disney. Plus - it is a big military holiday (duh!) - and a lot of servicemen and women are given extra time off around Veteran's Day. And where do they go?? Why yes, the Magic Kingdom, of course!

My inclination is to report all the things I wish we had done differently. That is what keeps whirling around in my mind. So let's pretend I have already regaled you with stories of crowds, hour-long shuttle rides and mad dashes to the potty (at the most inopportune times through throngs of people).

If I only had the good things left to tell you, I would tell you about the perfect weather. I would tell you how Sydney's face lit up when she met Cinderella and how she kept asking if I could still see Ariel's "kiss" (bright red lipstick) on her forehead hours after Ariel kissed her. I would talk about dinner at the castle, followed by a Christmas party in the park. I would mention the Christmas parade and how snow fell on Main Street. I would tell you that the castle shimmered with a million lights that changed from blue to silver to purple as the fireworks rained down in the most breath-taking display I have ever seen.

I would tell you about the nicest family we met on the shuttle. The dad is in the Air Force and had been in Iraq for 4 months. He is home for two weeks (unexpectedly, to attend a seminar). I would tell you how honored I was to share in the mom's excitement at having her husband home. I would tell you how cute it was that the 5 year old and 1 1/2 year old were all over their Daddy - and how he was loving every minute. I would tell you how proud I was when Mark thanked him for his service to our country.

I would tell you that next week he will return to Iraq for 8 more months.

I would tell you how that puts everything in perspective.

I can tell you that I am grateful I got to share the magic of Disney World with people I love. And I can tell you that our Air Force friends feel the same way.

The Calm

As I sit here writing this blog, sun pours through my dining room window. Holly Dog sits beside me, nodding off as she soaks in the warmth. The dryer is humming, the kitchen is clean and I am at peace. For now. I recognize this strange calm. And it makes me nostalgic - peacefully nostalgic. That is, if it's even possible to be nostalgic about events that haven't even occurred yet. In two days we will take Sydney on her first trip to Disney World. She just has no idea what is in store for her. I am already bracing myself for the chaos, as well as the tender memories that are just around the corner. I am steeling myself for the stress of modern day air travel, for the absurdity of creeping sock footed through security with booster seat, stroller, computer and 4 year old in tow. I have been casually packing for two days. Don't be too impressed. It's really not like me to already be half packed. And it's actually working against me. The presence of the suitcases in our bedroom floor has set the dogs on edge. They click around nervously, following me from room to room, fearing our departure. But a week from now it will all be over. The Disney World flurry will be replaced by the Thanksgiving flurry. Mark's family will come to town and join my family for the festivities. It will be crazy with all the kids, but nothing does my heart better than having all my people in one place. And with Thanksgiving comes full on Holiday Season. Yes, I am thankful for this calm, this calm before the beautiful, frenetic storm that is brewing.

Mosaic

I am 52 pages into Amy Grant's book, "Mosaic: Pieces of My Life So Far." I finally had to put it down because I have cried my way through the first several chapters. I guess it wouldn't matter except that I'm sitting at Sam & Zoe's. I came to write a new blog, promising myself that I would only read a few pages of the book. But I couldn't stop. I know part of the emotion comes from knowing Amy personally, for many years. We have never been close, but have always been friendly. I have always been a fan, though mostly in secret. I grew up in music business circles where it is simply "not cool" to be a fan - or at least that's how it seemed from my teenage perspective. Anyway, many of these stories she tells - I remember. I was there. Or I heard the story the first time she told it. So I would have expected this book to move me. What I was not prepared for is the way that I identify with her voice, her melancholy. Even the happy stories are wistful, full of nostalgia. It is almost too much for me. If I had to say, I think I would tell you that my tears are mostly from relief. It feels so good to know that someone else walks around with the weight of the world on their shoulders. If you were to meet me (most of you have!), you'd think I am lighthearted and fun-loving. And you'd be right - partly. But even in the best of times, when I am laughing and truly enjoying myself, there is a part of me deep inside saying, "Please, please don't let this end. Please let it always be like this!" If I'm honest, I have to admit that I'm probably more comfortable in the hard times - in the hard times when melancholy is actually appropriate. And I have to say that it feels good to be in such good company. Thanks, Amy.

Progress Report

It is becoming clear to me that the purpose of this blog is to be somewhat of a progress report. Fortunately, each blog that I write can be counted as progress in and of itself, but it will also be a place where I can publicly keep track of my goals. For instance, I still have not touched my guitar. I did find my tuner, so at least I'll be in tune when the spirit moves. I didn't write a song last week, although I did RE-write one. I haven't started writing my novel. But I finally told a friend my three ideas a couple of days ago. She liked all three, but she thinks I should write non-fiction. Maybe I will. I need to mull that thought over a little bit more. I mean, what do I have to say? What is my message? My mission? As you can see from my blogs, my thoughts are all over the map. Maybe a theme will emerge as I continue to blog. Let me know if you recognize it before I do!

Here's what else is on my mind:

After today's game the Titans are 5-2! It was yet another game that we shouldn't have won. No inspirational lessons this week. The defense played well, but the other major factor was LUCK. Speaking of luck, Phil Stacey sang the National Anthem at the game today. He was the American Idol contestant who missed the birth of his baby to audition for Idol. He is moderately talented, but he made it to #5 on the show and is rumored to be recording a country album. On the opposite end of the spectrum you have Sixwire. These guys are friends of ours who are extremely talented and have more than paid their dues in this town. They can now be seen on Fox's "America's Next Great Band"! They were picked in the top 12 out of thousands of bands who auditioned and are expected to go to the very end. Okay, I've changed my mind. I DO have an inspirational lesson this week: success means a lot more when you have WORKED for it!

(Although, who am I kidding? A little luck is nice every once in a while!)

In Retrospect.......

I am sitting at Sam & Zoe's and it is raining outside. I don't know what it is about rainy Fall days that makes me feel so creative. But I DO feel creative today - and alive. It could just be the caffeine high, but I don't think so. In an hour I will meet my friend who will start recording a record tomorrow. We have been writing songs for this record for the better part of a year. Up to now, we have felt quite alone in this process. Apart from a couple of other co-writers, hardly anyone has heard this music. Fortunately, two of the people who have heard it have jumped on board with us and will help this dream come true. The producer had an immediate positive reaction to our demos and consequently, has moved some things around in his schedule in order to work with my friend. (I will introduce her to you later!) Then there is the film and television guy from L.A. who is chomping at the bit to get these songs into film and TV, but my friend has asked him to wait until these more "official" versions are done.

I read Sting's memoir, "Broken Music", over the weekend. It was mostly about his life leading up to the explosion of the Police onto the music scene. I thoroughly enjoyed it and found even the most mundane details interesting. But when I think about, I realize those details are only interesting because he became STING! If not for his eventual fame, he would've just been some guy who played in bands, worked construction, worked for the government, taught third grade and spent many years on the "dole" - the British version of welfare. But as he weaves his story, he introduces his readers to characters who WE know will play life-changing roles in his life. He leads his readers through decisions in his life that WE know will result in his fame and fortune. He admits that he had no preconception of the super stardom that would come in his future, although many people around him did. He just loved playing music, writing songs and singing and so he never veered from the path. I think if I was on welfare I might be willing to accept defeat and walk away from my artistic aspirations, for heaven's sake! But the rest is rock and roll history.

"In the Fall of 2007 an artist would go into the studio. After being overlooked and even rejected for the preceding decade it would soon become evident that her time had come. Her music would reach the entire world and people would be moved by it. She would look back and see the tapestry of her life taking shape, making sense, weaving itself together in a way it was always meant to be. And suddenly all those rainy mornings spent by her friend and co-writer dreaming of the future and all the success to come will not seem mundane at all........"

I Am The WORST Fan!

Anyone who knows me at all will not be surprised to find a blog about the Tennessee Titans. Unfortunately, while I am a HUGE fan, I am not a very loyal one. Take today's game for instance: it is the 4th quarter and the Titans lead the Houston Texans by 25 points. Fourteen minutes and several miracles later, the Texans have pulled ahead by one point, seemingly winning the game. I start pacing around the living room and retort to Mark, "So, who are you taking to the Titans game next week?? Because I just can't go and support a team that plays like that!" Nice, huh?? You'd think I could have cut the Titans some slack since they were playing without their starting quarterback, the injured Vince Young. But there was almost a minute left to play. It is a minute that is now NFL history. The Titans get into field goal range and the unlikely hero, kicker Rob Bironas, will hit his 8th field goal of the day - breaking the NFL record for most field goals in one game and more importantly, winning the game.

So here are the lessons that I walked away with. First, the game is not over until it is OVER. I will try to apply this to my life as well as to my fickle fan syndrome. Something I have learned about myself, and am not proud of, is that I "borrow trouble". I assume that I know how something is going to go and freak out and let the bottom fall out. And I'm usually wrong in these situations. Flat out wrong. And then I feel sheepish and wish that my faith had been a little stronger: my faith in God, myself, my career and yes, even in those Tennessee Titans. Secondly, the back story on Rob Bironas the kicker is inspiring in and of itself. Here's a guy who was working at Best Buy a few years ago. In 2003 he decides to give professional football one last shot. He plays Arena football for a while and finally breaks into the NFL - where he will be cut from team after team for the next 3 years. In 2006 the Tennessee Titans pick him up. He will wow teammates and fans with a 60 yard, game winning field goal against the Indianapolis Colts later that year. Today his name goes down in NFL history. At the end of the game, one of the commentators asked him how he felt in light of being rejected by so many teams over the past few years. He said, "I don't see it as rejection. I just see it as part of the rough road I had to go down to get here." (or something to that effect!) Wow! Does that hit you like it hits me?? It makes me want to just keep doing what I'm doing to the best of my ability. Just keep showing up. Maybe all the bumps in the road are bumping me closer to MY shining moment. After all, an unlikely hero is a hero, nonetheless.

If Your Flower Girl Has Two Black Eyes

All weekend we felt like the punch line to a Jeff Foxworthy joke! You might be a redneck if.............your flower girl has two black eyes! That's right - little Sydney has a goose egg on her forehead and two black eyes. In her words, "I wouldn't get off the swing so my cousin threw a rock at me." She's then quick to assure everybody (and I do mean EVERYBODY) that she has forgiven him and he's still her friend. The rock hit her square in the middle of her forehead, leaving a purply green bump. It looked a little better the next morning. But much to my suprpise (and horror), she had two black eyes when I picked her up from school on the second day. Apparently these injuries tend to travel downward on the face. It was only then that it occurred to me: the wedding! We were due to fly to Kansas 3 days later where Sydney was to be the flower girl in a wedding.

Thus begins the 3 day saga of our weekend spent explaining our black eyed girl to everyone we came in contact with. The flight attendant even announced it over the loud speaker. He was publicly congratulating the groom and thought it would be funny to throw in the story of the flower girl with the "shiners".

There was a lot of emotion surrounding the dress that Sydney wore. It was the same dress that the bride herself wore when she was flower girl in her mother's wedding almost twenty years ago. I could imagine what the mother of the bride was thinking as she watched her grown-up daughter hugging Sydney in that flower girl dress. I know she was thinking it felt like only yesterday. I squeezed her arm knowingly when I saw the tears in her eyes. My own tears came as Sydney made her entrance. You have never seen a little girl looking more proud of herself as she walked down that aisle, meticulously dropping her flower petals.

Right before the wedding ceremony, I left her in the vestibule in the capable hands of the 6 year old ring bearer. I had started to walk away to go find my seat when she called out to me. "Mama! I forgot to give you hugs and kisses!" It was one of those moments when you are aware that a "moment" is happening. I bent to receive my hugs and kisses and told her "Honey, I love you SO much and I'm SO proud of you!" I KNOW that I will remember this someday when I hug and kiss her in the vestibule on her own wedding day. I will say those same words to her and she will be all grown up and dressed in a beautiful gown, but there will be a split second when I will see her as my precious flower girl with two black eyes. And I, too, will feel like it was only yesterday.

Pumpkins and Turkeys and Pigs, Oh My!

I did not wear my songwriter hat today. I did not go to my hip coffee shop, I did not pick up my guitar and I did not write a word of fiction.

I did, however, play 20 games of "I Spy", pet 3 piglets, 2 calves and a goat (we weren't allowed to pet the turkey - guess he's a little testy this time of year) and pick pumpkins right out of the patch. If you guessed that I went on my first field trip with Syd's pre-school class, then - you win!! For your prize you can choose between my melted jello or Sydney's dangerously warm diced turkey bites! Did I mention it was 90 degrees?? Yep, there we were, sweating in our blue jeans, jostling down the dusty trail while the unseasonably hot sun baked us on the too long hayride. At first, the 4 year olds were good sports, waving politely when prompted, at the old mare in the field and oohing and ahhing obligingly over the big, round hay bales. But by the end of the ride the kids were just asking when they could go home.

We had so looked forward to this trip to Walden Farm. When I first saw it on the school calendar, I had visions of turning leaves, crisp, cool air and a quaint picnic in the field. I pictured sweaters and jackets and maybe even mugs of hot chocolate. Never once did I conjure up flies and sunburn and little faces dripping with perspiraton. We did walk away with two mighty fine pumpkins of Sydney's choosing, so all was not lost.

Lesson for the day: I was going to think of something really profound to say here - something about togetherness and not taking things for granted, but there is one glaring thought that I cannot get out of my head:

Note to self: next time you go on a field trip in hot weather, DO NOT pack perishable foods for lunch!

Blogging: Day Two (or Crack Corn Cakes)

Right now I am in danger of being swallowed by my couch. My stomach is full of corn cakes and white bean soup from Nero's. I wasn't even offended that our waiter laughed when my sister and I requested our third basket of corn cakes. Let me sum it up for you - crispy and golden on the outside, soft and warm on the inside - spread with butter - devour - then repeat. And now I'm trying to blog. Maybe I need to stick to the hip coffee shops around town. I felt so creative yesterday as I sat in my uncomfortable chair, drank my (non-fat) latte and watched the parade of bohemians and business people coming and going, united in their quest for caffeine. I felt so energized, so productive. Now I just feel full, and sleepy! But I'm a blogger now, so that's what I will do. And then maybe I'll give in to the couch and take a short cat nap to reward myself............

If You Can't Beat 'Em..........

Okay, okay, I'm going to start "blogging"! Back in the day we called it "journaling" and I wouldn't have let anyone read my private thoughts for the world. But, times have changed and I consider myself to be somewhat of a modern woman, as well as an aspiring writer, so..............

Here's what's on my mind today:

I had a birthday two days ago. I'm not ready to tell you how old I am. But it's older than you think. At least that's the most common reaction that I get upon telling people my age. "No!" they say, "you look about ____!" and it's a number that is a good 8 to 10 years younger than I really am. It's a catch 22 for me, because I am definitely one of those people who is getting better with age. I'm a late bloomer. I married late, had my daughter late, pursued my dream career late and most importantly, grew some confidence late! But I do appreciate the compliment. Anyway, back to my birthday. I had every intention of sitting in my favorite coffee shop, Sam & Zoe's, and getting my dreams and goals organized that day. I see my birthday as being a very important starting point as well as being a good time for assessment - much like New Year's Day. I ended up getting a massage - a gift from my envied-by-all-my-friends husband - which rendered me useless for the rest of the day. I am not exaggerating one bit! I met my mom and sisters for sushi afterwards and I remember thinking how much trouble it was to mix my dab of wasabi into my low sodium soy sauce! I could've put my head down on the table! After lunch I could only muster enough energy to wander aimlessly around the shoe store next door.

SO! Today is the day. Just 2 days late. Today I plan the next year of my life. But first I will look back on the year that just passed - rather quickly at that! In a nutshell, my life is GREATLY improved compared to this time last year. I have lost 30-35 pounds (um, it varies almost daily!), written 20 songs, become more involved with my church, endeavored to parent more meaningfully and have been on some fabulous vacations! On the downside, I have not touched my guitar in 6 months (I'm primarily a lyricist) and I have not written a word of fiction in over a year. All in all, it was a successful year. It feels like a good foundation for the coming year and all the expectations I have for it.

So, I've gotten my songwriting career back up and running. I am not satisfied with just writing songs. My goal for the coming year is to write more fiction! I will write 2 short stories and will write 100 pages of my yet-to-be-titled novel!

I will blog regularly and explore other outlets for my non-fiction writing.

I will play one writer's night by this time next year. This means actually picking up my guitar and practicing!!

I will write 3 songs by myself - lyrics AND music!

Whew! I better get busy. I've placed a tall order. And I'm already two days behind..............