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.