GGG Unplugged: "Word of God Speak"

I have had a great deal of stress and heartbreak in my life for the last six to nine months, and I've done relatively little blogging about it. This is not because I feel as though it's too painful to share. On the contrary, I think blogging about it would've been therapeutic and might've even reached out to others weathering this storm. I've decided not to blog about this because of the sensitive nature of everything going on, and I think that to have spoken freely and publicly about what was truly on my heart would have been very damaging in many ways.

Some of you know that my church has really been put through the wringer for a long time now. This Sunday will be my pastor's last Sunday with us. It has been a long, painful road with her, and it has crushed my heart to have witnessed everything unfold. I can attest that there is some serious spiritual warfare going on, like none I've ever seen before, and even though there have been some sunbeams pop through the clouds along the way, there are still dark, churning stormclouds over head that simply refuse to burn off and go away.

The praise band has been practicing this song, and I hope we get to do it this Sunday. If not, at least I will have had a chance to lift it to the Lord as my true prayer here. I heard Matt Maher, writer of the song, "Your Grace Is Enough," talking about composing that song during a heavy time in his life. This upbeat song he described as a lament, and he was quick to remind people that God blesses us when we praise through hard times and suffering. I agree with Matt -- I, too, have had to do a lot of that in my life and know he's exactly right. So, that is my intent with my musical offering today; may it rise as incense before the Lord and be pleasing in his sight. Amen.

My Belated MLK/Obama Post

It's often been said that the English language is one deficient of words to properly describe the human experience. For example, Biblical Greek has many words that all mean "love;" however, each word describes a different kind of love and leaves no shadow of doubt for the reader as to which type of love is being described.

I personally experienced this lack of adequate language this week when I was carefully crafting my tribute to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and the Presidential Inaugural events of this week. After working for well over an hour on the perfect musical-blogtastic post, Blogger decided to steal my joy and eat my post, never to be enjoyed by you, The Readership. The injustice! The tyranny! O the conspiracy, Lord; how long will you ignore my cry??? I was so beyond having proper language to describe my anguish, I poured myself a rum and coke and called R. to clear my mind.

At any rate, I have been challenged by S4J to come up with something edifying to say about this experience. All I can think of is that the Holy Spirit knew that I could do better than that and made sure that the post didn't "make it to print." Instead, you will, God-willing, Insh'allah, get to read this one.

All I really want to say to sum up the lost post is that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., is someone that I really admire. He stuck his neck out for something that mattered and held out for the right thing when it would've been so much easier in the short run to give in. He knew that the hard times were worth pushing through, and I believe he did this in the most godly way possible. Was he a saint? Surely not. I'm sure I'll read something tomorrow that I've never seen that says he did drugs or cheated on his wife or some terrible thing, although I'm not aware that he ever did any of that. In my mind so far, he is a champion to anyone who has ever been subjected to humiliation and inhumane treatment. The fact that he chose the hard road inspires me to do the same. I feel like President Bush had to chose to take the hard road and had the wherewithal to see it through, even though it cost him popularity points. I have more respect for someone who sees it through than one who caves to public opinion.

At the same time, just a day after we honored the memory of this amazing man, we placed an African-American in the White House. You all know I'm not a political fan of his, but I can't help but hope that somehow God allowed Dr. King to look down on or be aware of just what was going on as a way to say, "You see? You didn't die for nothing. Your life mattered!" This was a huge step for our country to take, and it's about dang time we did.

All that being said, I luuuurve this song by James Taylor. In fact, it's probably one of my three most favorites of his of all time. It's a perfect way to get our game face on for the next four years and put into perspective what needs to really happen in our country, regardless of political alignment and popularity contests.

GGG Unplugged: "Welcome To Our World"

Brought to you live via GGG Kitchen Cam, it's my first attempt at recording music to broadcast via the internet. You guys had better enjoy this while it's still free! I mean, seriously, when I'm packing out stadiums and stuff, you all will be able to remember back to when I was putting music out there for free... Oh, wait... it's not my song... Crap! Can't charge for it! haha... Oh well. Wishful thinking I suppose.

Yes, I know part of my head is cut off and the audio lacks much to be desired, but if any of you would like to contribute to the "Launch GGG's In-Home Musical Studio" fund, you just let me know and I'll tell you to whom to make out your check! Until I at least get a tripod, this is the best I got.

I'd like to do these a lot more often; I don't know why it never occurred to me before to do a musical post. So many writers, such as the featured Chris Rice, pinpoint exactly the thoughts going through my head and the prayers whispered in my heart. So hopefully, when I don't have the time to knock out some "amazing" verbage, I will remember to do one of these.

Why this song? Well, for many reasons. Advent is a time of preparation. We prepare our homes to offer hospitality to friends and family. We prepare gifts as gestures of our love toward others. Spiritually, we prepare our hearts by considering the Christmas story and its significance. We intentionally mull over the connection between the manger and the cross. We prepare the world for Christ's return by feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, and giving more generously than we have given over the past year, expecting nothing in return.

This song reminds us why we need Messiah to fill that manger. Our souls hunger, our world reels and aches with toil and strife. We wade through life, wondering when we may welcome Jesus back into our world once again. Really, we welcome Him back into our world every day as we wake up to face the day and all that will transpire. He is truly with us, watching over in times of peril and rejoicing in times of mirth. May our lives be lived as songs of praise, welcoming Jesus to our world anew every day.

Christmas Thoughts

I've got so many things on my plate right now this minute that I shouldn't even be posting, but this song has really touched my heart this season.

I promise to be up and posting soon... Enjoy this song -- it really speaks my heart...

I Heart Joe(y) McIntyre

Please, ladies, we're all grown ups here. Please refrain from getting out your old BOP posters and throwing your panties at the computer screen. Really. So juvenile.

My friend recently went to this concert and I'm SOOOOO insanely jealous! I will say, however, that she redeemed herself:

I nearly peed in Cracker Barrell this morning at breakfast upon receiving this birthday gift!

I swear, this whole day has been full of flash backs. Birthdays are among some of the logical days in one's life to look back and reflect on days and years gone by. Ten years ago today I was more than likely celebrating my 22nd birthday with T. down at Texas A&M where we went to college together. Less than a month later Aggie Bonfire would collapse upon 12 fellow students and change our lives and the traditions of our dear school forever. Twenty years ago today I was turning 12 and trying to figure out who I was, being in the 6th grade at Travis Middle School. I looked up to those big 8th grade girls and their tidal wave bangs, thinking there was no way I would ever look that cool. The bathrooms constantly smelled of Aquanet hairspray, and we begged our parents to let us carry Esprit purses filled with fruity lip gloss, a myriad of pens and pencils, and sacred feminine supplies that most of us wouldn't need for another three or four years. Our lives were filled with cute, scrawny boys in ill-fitting football uniforms, side pony tails, longing to be popular and have a boyfriend, passing notes, and pouring over copies of BOP magazine to gaze adoringly into the eyes of our future husbands, for me, it was baby-faced Joey McIntyre of the New Kids On The Block. Oh, heavenly days! Would it be possible to find a boy that could ever pour out his heart to me to the words of this song? How I pined to slow dance forever in the arms of my Boston boy!

At any rate, just wanted you all to flash back with me. And hey, if the next time I see you all and one of you is wearing your jeans rolled up to proudly display your colored slouch socks and your t-shirt tied off to one side, I totally won't judge you. :)

Happy Birthday, Dizzy Gillespie

When I think of jazz and what the good Lord intended it to be, I immediately think of a short list of musicians. Partly that is because I am a relatively new fan of this genre of music, but also partly due to the fact that the greats in this area are just so incredibly talented that they seem untouchable by so many other very skilled musicians. In the category with Dizzy I definitely put Miles Davis, my personal favorite, Charlie Parker, and John Coltrane. But there is just something about those cheeks, right?!?

To a musician who is so tied to the notes on the page, as S4J can attest, it is unfathomable to me how jazz musicians can simply pick up a line and run with it in the middle of a song. That fact alone truly blows my mind. I also love the fact that jazz is probably one of the only genres of music that you could say truly began in America.

Upon doing a little reading about Dizzy today on what would've been his 91st birthday, I learned that he moved to Philadelphia as a young man in 1939, and eventually played in Cab Calloway's band, another guy I really enjoy, but more in the big band category. I also learned that he grew up in a musical household and that he has been immersed in a home culture of music since birth, being the youngest of nine (!) children. You never see a picture of him where he isn't smiling the most laid back, relaxed and groovy smile you've ever seen, and as you watch him perform you can see how he really transcends the present and puts his whole mind and body into each note coming out of his famous trumpet.

One of the things I love most about any type of purely instrumental music is that you don't need words to convey a message. Whether it's Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 in A, Opus 92, Allegretto (one of the most intense, emotional classical pieces you will ever hear in your life), to Dizzy playing "A Night In Tunisia (which will make you want to get up and salsa dance), to the carillion in a church's belfry playing "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee," there is raw emotion and energy in each note. No words are necessary to take the listener to places of quiet meditation, release of emotion, or the need to get up and move their feet. Each time I pick up one of my instruments I marvel at how God gave humans the knowledge of music in the world. Composers write music as intricate in design and instrumentation as the design of the cells in our bodies. How did we ever discover that, by pulling a string tight and pushing our fingers down on it at different places, or by forcing air through constricted places using metal and wood, we could make such elaborate expressions? I'm in as much awe over the miracle of music as I am an eyelash on a newborn baby or the lacy pattern of a snowflake. God is soooo good.

So on this day, to celebrate the life and musical gift given by God to our brother Dizzy Gillespie, I give you one of my most favorite jazz pieces, "A Night In Tunisia."

Cover Tune Grab Bag

Combine liturgical church song endings with R.E.M. and there you have it!! Get out the lighters and the teen angst...

Cover Tune Grab Bag

HisGirl, this one's for you, my dear. :)

This-N-That

Whew! It's been a whirlwind week, and I've gotten so far behind on posting that the hard drive in my brain is maxed out. I will attempt to recap:


As of last week, I have officially become a minion of the PTA at Li'l G's school. Honestly, I have been skeptical of PTAs because I am not very fond of cliques and anything that reminds me of my terrible days as an adolescent. However, this group of ladies seems like hard workers who truly want to be involved at the school to help support teachers and kids. I helped set up for the Book Fair and will work for a few hours there later this week. I may have an inner librarian working somewhere in the untold folds of my personality. At any rate, I'm not able to work things in the evenings due to my family structure, and this is one of the best ways to volunteer during the daytime. That, and I'm always on the lookout for new friends. The way I see it, the more connections we can make with other people the better. You never know when you might meet that one friend who becomes a gem you treasure for a lifetime.


The main focus of the last week or so has definitely been the fundraiser and praise band concert that went down at my church last night. We've been toiling away at practices. I know everyone on the team has got to be ready for a little space away from me as I struggled to get some of my fine tuning down. But the bottomline is that this is an unusually grace-filled group of people that I'm so blessed to have in my life. The fundraiser seems to have been a success, and we all left the concert feeling like we had put forth our best effort.


I was trying to explain to someone recently what it is like to play with a group of people. It's one thing to play an instrument or sing and have to be in front of a group of people, but when you do this in the context of praise and worship, it's a whole different enchilada. What we do as a praise band is meant for the direct benefit of the congregation and as our personal sacrifices of praise to the Lord. To me, I feel like the luckiest person in the room because of my vantage point. Not only am I doing something that I love and that I feel that God has blessed me to be able to share this passion with others, but the blessing I receive when I observe others listening to the music and interacting with it, it is something so sacred that I just cannot think of another way to experience it. All I can say is "wow."


Amidst all this fracas, R. came to visit for the weekend and I got one of my papers finished. Even Li'l G had homework that miraculously got done. All this done with a sinus headache all.weekend.long.


I need a weekend to recover from my weekend.


And now for the bad news: I have made an executive decision to cut something from my calendar. **Insert sound of needle scratching across vinyl record in the distance!!** What, GGG?!? You actually took something OFF your calendar? Honey, check the news -- I think Jesus is coming again...!


Yes, I have decided to take a committment away from myself so that I don't kill myself with too many items on the personal agenda. I am still cycling and even showing up to spinning if there's bad weather, but I do not have the time necessary to be properly trained for the bike race in October. It was a hard call to make, but it was the right choice. I will still train to enter a race, but I will put it off until the spring. I've got to properly prioritize my time these days, and quite frankly, it was taking up valuable space on the front burner. I will, however, continue to post for accountability. So none of you are off the hook, either!!! Thought you were off the hook... ;)


On a more philosophical note, I'm sensing change these days. I don't know what form to expect it in, but I have this unsettled feeling that there is going to be a major shift in my life over the next few months. This could be for several reasons.


1) Having been married to the military, I'm used to moving every 24 months or so. I've been living here in my new home, essentially my new life, for 25 months. Just sheer force of habit might lead me to expect change, right? Maybe...


2) I'm entering the last of four semesters of lay ministry training. I distinctly remember thinking after T. died that I wanted to enter into some kind of ministry, counseling, pastoring, worship leader/music ministry, etc. My pastor-at-the-time and friend advised me of this program offered through my denomination that might be interesting and even serve as part of the discerning process for me to consider what my calling might be or what the next steps of my new life would look like. Now, as I am nearing the end of this incubation period, I think I'm somewhat closer to figuring that out but still have no clear answers. Perhaps it's anxiety related to feeling like I've reached the end of one path and wondering where the beginning lies to the next one.


I know for sure that I will sorely miss the fellowship I experience at these meetings. The other PLM candidates are such interesting people who truly desire to take a further step in their involvement in the life of the church and those they are serving/will serve. Having almost 25-30 likeminded individuals gathered in one place just makes me giddy with excitement and energy to take the world by storm. The professors are such interesting folks and are all so anointed and yet so different from one another that I feel like I could just hang on their every word. Obviously I enjoy these sessions and will miss them so much. I have no idea who or what God will bring along to fill this void in my life.


3) I'm eccentric, hormonal, compulsive and turning 32 next month. Can anyone say mid-life crisis?!? However true of the first part, I can't really say I think it's a mid-life crisis. And I'm actually quite fond of being in my thirties. I think it is when human beings hit their prime. I definitely feel like this is the prime of my life and want to capitalize that in every possible way, hence all the fitness craze and the continuing education stuff. But is that the source of this "hunch?"


4) Maybe my relationship is moving into a new phase. I can't really say that much has changed, and even if it had, I'm under strict orders not to mention "him" on the blog. This is request is painfully hard for me to honor. While I don't have any problem with keeping a private life private, I also know that there are other people out there in my shoes who are aching inside, wondering what has happened to them, if things will ever change, who they are, who they want to be with, etc. I feel called to share my life's experiences, and dating after the death of a spouse is an area of our society left largely unexplored. Most people think it's too taboo to discuss. Then again, most people associate the word "widow" with people who look like Sophia Petrillo. While I probably act like her, I can assure you that is the only thing we have in common.


At any rate, perhaps there is change in our future. Will this change be a step toward a closer bond, toward a mature love that could lead to a lifelong committment and a chance at having another baby? I would love that. Or, will it lead to us shaking hands and saying, "I love you, but not like that?" I certainly hope not. But there is just no way of knowing, is there? Despite my feelings about wanting to reach out to this neglected group of the population, I will respect his wishes on this matter. It's the least I can do.


There are probably lots of other reasons for this hunch. The changing of the seasons, my hormones, too much sinus pressure, the anniversary of T.'s birthday this week, the desire to see change, seeing my family transition from a house ruled by the needs of toddlers to those of kids old enough to unbuckle their booster seats. My God, El Roi, God Who Sees, knows what's in my heart. He hears my silent cries of, "What now?", "Why not?", "Why me?", "Why not me?", and many others that only the Holy Spirit can utter on my behalf. And let the record show, I know this all has to be chalked up to trusting God to meet my needs and leaving it in God's hands.

And on top of all this madness, S4J goes off and posts about certain trust and gets us all convicted and stuff. Pft. How rood.

So there you have it, dear readers. What happens next in the never-ending drama/saga that is the life and times of GGG & Co.??? Tune in tomorrow for the next installement of, "The Days of Surviving Wives!"

I Heart David Sedaris and Other Random Observations

I've been blogging a little here and a little there in my mind but can't seem to carve out the time to sit still at the computer. I've got a jillion things I want to mull over "out loud" but want to chose my postings carefully, as I don't want to steamroll right over my 100th blog. As a result, you can all sample a bit from the buffet of my mental smorgasboard:

First of all, if you have not done yourself the favor of reading ANY book by David Sedaris, you need to send yourself to time-out post-haste. Once you've thought long and hard about what you've done, then you need to get your hands on a copy thereof. If you are even remotely entertained by anything I write, appreciate dysfunctional families, enjoy well-placed sarcasm, and like to laugh, I promise that you won't be disappointed. I recommend reading this one first since it really focuses on his family and his experiences growing up. I knew absolutely nothing about Sedaris before picking up any of his books and have really enjoyed learning about his background, quirks, and observations without bias from anyone but a book-loving friend of mine who has the discernment to make you drool with anticipation for a book without spoiling the plot or the surprises along the way. (Well-done, JO!) Sedaris writes essays, commentaries really, so if you have a short attention span, you can read one in fifteen minutes and walk away, as they are stand-alone entries; however, they do have a central theme within the book. As snarky and hilarious as this book was, and the next one as well, there is a twinge of bittersweet reflection that really grounds his words in reality. He can have you swerving in traffic because you're laughing so hard (obviously listening to the audiobook, not reading and driving because that would be wrong... uh oh...!!), and in the next breath deliver a lump to your throat that makes you think, "Wow." Some of my favorite stories involve his brother, who sounds like a real piece of work.

Bottom line: great read. I read this on the plane to Seattle and was guffawing out loud on the plane. It was the first thing I picked up in my effort to lighten up and learn to be more relaxed and groovy. I began and finished it in two plane rides.

I listened to this on audiobook, and what began as a long foray through the boring coastal Texas flatlands turned into a comedic/literary treat. The kids were watching a movie in the car with headphones on, so I got to enjoy this out loud. What I love most about Sedaris' audiobooks is that he reads them himself. A real bonus in my book -- not only do you "read" the authors words, but you also get to hear them the way he is wanting you to hear them, complete with emphasis and voices for all the characters. Some of the essays are even read in front of a live audience, which rocks. This particular collection focuses on his experiences living in France as an "ex-pat" and attempting to learn the French language. "Pickapocketoni" and the one where the students learning French are trying to explain, in broken French, to a Muslim what Easter is, are hysterical. Anything involving his dad is sheer madness and hilarity as well. The essay involving his sister, Amy, and her penchant for role play is hilarious as well.

Bottom line: I'm hooked on his writing but will choose to enjoy them as audiobooks.

All I can say is, Dang. Awesome book. I couldn't begin to give this book a proper review because there are so many reactions and emotions swirling through my heart toward this book. A pastor friend of mine recommended this author to me, and I know she has written some religious and non-fiction. This is the first book of hers that I have read, and in an effort to lighten up, I'm going to stick to her fiction for now.

Sue Monk Kidd has a way for crafting language quite unlike anyone I've ever heard, except perhaps Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. Kidd has now officially entered my "comfort food" category of writers, which includes the likes of Rawlings, Fannie Flagg, and Ann B. Ross. Flagg and Ross are more on the end of southern (humorous) fiction writers (Flagg has written lots of great books, such as "Fried Green Tomatoes At The Whistle Stop Cafe," and Ross has written the "Miss Julia" series). However, I classify them as my "comfort food" category because they make me feel like I'm curled up on a hot summer afternoon at my grandparents' house, either on the chenille bedspread in the guestroom or on an old quilt on the living room floor, breathing in the smells of home cooking and musty old cotton from the gin, exhausted from a long day of working in the garden or fishing in the tank. These writers make me yearn for simpler times, rural settings, a slower, more thoughtful lifestyle, and a life that is straightforward and comforting. Most times the characters are anything but simple, the times almost always difficult and trying, but there is an implied simplicity that sweeps me out of my reality and into the pages of the book. I mourn upon finishing a book like this, missing the characters, wanting to be a fly on the wall in their old-fashioned kitchens and screened-in porches, having instead to deal with my modern life and issues. Now that's a good book.

This book has characters that draw you in and get under your skin. I'll be honest, it took me a good four chapters to give a rip, mainly because I was reading some other things and in transit at the beginning of this book. Once I had a piece of time to devote to it, Kidd had her hooks in me, weaving a web of carefully chosen words around my head that made me want to neglect my kids just so I could finish this book, as much as I wanted to stay in it forever. If you have ever had a tragedy in your life that left behind a lot of unanswered questions, especially when it comes to the identity of the one lost, or if you have yearned for the love of a parent, it will touch you. Such a great read.

more cat pictures

This is going to be me in about a week. For some INSANE reason, I have decided that I need to do a garage sale next weekend, and I have a looooong way to go. Did I mention this garage sale will fall the Saturday BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS?!? Not only that, but on the second day of school, I'm taking my show on the road, along with JO I'm hoping, and accompanying our pastor and youth minister to a local private university to get the word out about our church and to offer some "unplugged" style of worship and food for the students on campus. I've got to pick two hours-worth of music (I'm not a big fan of the repeat, unless it's a rockin' song) and develop that. To top it off with a rum-soaked marischino cherry, the praise band at church is working up a 10-song set, a.k.a. "The Jesus Project," by Rich Mullins, for a free concert to follow a fundraising BBQ at our church on 7 September. I won't even kvetch on the PLMA stuff I haven't come close to beginning to work on. I've also started waking kids up almost early enough to rehearse for a school day and biking up to the school and back. I feel like I've got the kids in kiddie boot camp and I'm the lead drill instructor.

Hopefully this has been a blog worth reading, albeit long. I'm hoping to keep up my "extracurricular" reading. I might even start a separate blog just devoted to that, but we'll see -- I'm doing well to be consistent over here. If you haven't left a comment for my 100th blog and would like to, you've got another day to do so! Remember there's a prize involved!! Go check it out!!

MercyMe Has Done It Again

Now that I have recovered from the shock of what I have just seen, I can't wait to share it with you, the bloggy public. I will spare you with the long story of how I found it, but if you: a) love flashing back to old songs, b) love MercyMe, c) like acoustic/bluegrass music, d) any combination of the above, or e) ALL of the above, then you're gonna get such a kick outta this. I found myself dancing, harmonizing, musing at how they pulled this off, and eventually laughing until I cried. Enjoy!!!

For all of us who secretly practiced dancing like a mummy in front of our bathroom mirrors and wanted the red leather jacket to boot:



For all you "oldsters" out there who actually admit to doing the hustle in public:



For the hard-core Rick Astley fans, a tribute complete with hard-core triangle playing:



This was the best song in the group to me, and it had an ending reminiscent of the dear ole Chokemaster himself:



Not near as good, but should satisfy Vanilla Ice groupies:



And lastly, this one is dedicated to HisGirl and S4J (do you think they could've transposed down a step or two?!?):

Today's Verse: Proverbs 3:5-6

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths." (NKJV)

Direction is the word I received from this passage today. I had to go to the NKJV to find this wording. The NIV says that God will make our paths straight, but that imparts a completely differnent meaning to me. (Amazing how one holy book can have such differentiation...)

To me, I read the NIV and think about God taking the chaos of my life and ironing it all out. Taking away all the uncertainty, change, self-doubt, and voila -- just getting rid of it. Without these things that make me stagger around like toddler in her mothers heels, my paths will finally be straight. But I don't buy into that explanation.

I like the NKJV because it doesn't guarantee that straigtness of path. Instead, I hear God saying, "If you trust me with your heart, your life, your future, I will point you in the direction in which I know you need to go. There are no guarantees about straightness of path, bumpiness, or possible detours. But it's still the right direction to get you where you need to go, which is back to Me."

I began my day with a headache, again, as per usual it would seem. I woke up with an agitated spirit, an uneasiness that waxes and wanes within me like the cycles of the moon. (And no, S4J, I'm not PMSing! Haha!!) Someone described me yesterday as being "needy" in regards to a hypothetical situation, and the result of this conversation left me reeling in many ways. Some Most of you have never met me in person (man, I feel sorry for you!!! Haha, just kidding... sort of...), but if you've read many of my blogs, I'm a fairly independent person. Yes, I do accept help from others when I feel it's necessary or would benefit my mental health. But by-and-large, the word "needy" is not the first thing that comes to mind when I think about my personality traits.

This whole "needy" thing is not really necessary for you all to know, but it spurred me, once again, to consider the path that my life is on, if, in fact, it is even on one. I'm the kind of person that is passionate and driven most of the time, but am also wracked with self-doubt and lack of confidence at times. I see a million things I need to do, ways to improve the kind of mother that I am, the constant uncertainty of my future, and it makes me feel so trapped. And then, like the Casting Crows song, "Voice of Truth," says, I hear the voice of Jesus singing over me and can step out of that mire long enough to hear this encouraging word. As usual, I needed that boost in the "trust" and "faith" department.

Like most people in my age range, we feel like we have to have a sense of direction for our lives. Some women feel like they have to check off the "career" box before they can even entertain the thought of marriage or children. Others believe their career is to be in the home caring for their family. Men are expected to have ambition, drive, and goals, and those who gravitate back toward the womb and live out of their parents' basement are looked at as having no direction in their lives. We've got to be going somewhere, improving ourselves, preparing for retirement while we are still young enough to work ourselves to death. Our jobs, be they in or out of the home, domestic or otherwise, socially define us as who we are. Try telling a man you meet in a bar or on a blind date what you do for a living when you're a stay-at-home mom. It's a tough pill to swallow, not because I'm ashamed of it, but because of what everyone else's perception is of me.

Direction. How do we know if we're headed in the right one? There's a delicate balance for a modern Christian between praying and laying back, expecting God to pull off something fabulous, and "taking life by the horns" and doing it your way, which can be disatrous. I long for the days when my kids were infants. You had direction then: eat, sleep, poop. Now that my life has changed so much, I feel like I'm walking down that path in "Alice in Wonderland," where those weird animals are erasing the path Alice is walking on. Pretty soon, she's lost in the woods, looking around like, "Crap -- now where do I go?!?"

Alice didn't have her Bible with her, otherwise maybe she would've read this verse and not panicked so much. I need to put this verse in front of my face on a daily basis. I know this condition of my life won't change overnight, and verses like this give me hope that I'm doing the right thing. And even if I'm not, God does give second chances; it's never too late to change directions in that respect.

Direction, LORD, is what I need right now...

Today's Verse: ...The Mystery Solved!

"Shout joyfully to the Lord, all the earth; break forth in song, rejoice, and sing praises." --Psalm 98:4

OK, so this is technically my verse for Saturday. With that, let me introduce you to the newest member of my guitar collection:


This is called a "backpacker," and it's made by Martin & Co. It's designed for people who like to travel, especially those granola, John Denver-types who can't be within 10 feet of a campfire without a guitar in their hands but don't want to schlep their Takamine, etc., over Mt. Everest or some such adventure. This is my personal response to the highway robbery being committed by such airlines as American and the likes who are now charging $15 (and then some) to check even one bag when you travel. When the kids and I go for some quality Pookie time this summer, and when I travel with the Chicas, I need/want to have my guitar with me. Hopefully this can count as one of my carry-on items. I am actually packing my purse so that I can carry this guitar on -- how deranged is that?!?

But the way this verse ties in is clear to me. Music is not just something that I enjoy doing -- it has been a very major part of my life. I have been involved in music and performing since I was 10 years old, playing violin. I indulged myself in my first guitar (lovingly known as "Mrs. Garrison," for all you South Park devotees) after finding a "bucket list" Tom had made some time before he died where he listed, "Play guitar," as something he wanted to achieve in life. S4J and I embarked on this musical quest simultaneously, and she, too, can vouch for the healing quality of music in our lives.

Maybe it's because I'm a little bit a lot psycho, but music has been God's gift that has carried me through so many times and phases in my life. Not only has He given me the gift of being able to play musical instruments, He has also spoken to me through music. I guess you could call it a love language or some such. Two days after Tom died, the praise band from PWOC came over to the house, and we just sat on my living room floor and sang. God completely renewed and strengthened me in that fellowship for the days to come. I'll never forget barely being able to choke out the words to the chorus of, "Breathe":

"And I, I'm desperate for You,
And I, I'm lost without You."

It was the cry of my heart to my husband and to my God.

Chris Rice continues to steal words from my heart that describe my experience. The old words of the bluegrass songs and hymns that we do now at church take me back to the comfort of my grandmothers in times where life was simpler and beautiful. Feeling the vibrations of the back of the guitar on my stomach as I really rock out to an improvisational version of the Newsboy's, "It Is You," on Sunday with JO and the Chokemaster affects me in a way that could never come from a shot glass or a romantic kiss. It's music, it's emotion, it's my heart breaking forth out of my skin and sending my heart straight to the Father on the notes of a song that He put into my heart before I was born.

"A Living Prayer"

This is a song by one of my favorites, Allison Krauss and New Union Station. I would give major organs to get to meet her and just listen in on her and the band in a jam session sometime. Anyhow, the first time I heard this song, I felt like she had torn the words right out of my heart and my prayers -- between her and Chris Rice, those two really know what's on my mind. S4J, this is one of the songs you are charged with making sure is played at my funeral. JO, this is the song I want to do as a duet with you at church, if we can talk the Chokemaster into picking it for us!

Go To The Bathroom Before You Watch This...

...otherwise you might wet your pants like I almost did. I don't know what is funnier: the song, the kid, or the older guy. Actually, when he paused to take his socks and shoes off, I nearly lost it...

Go watch it fo' Jesus, mo' flicka!!

Thursday Bonus: "Held" video

Today's Verse: Psalm 68:4-6, 20

"Sing to God, sing praise to his name, extol him who rides on the clouds -- his names is the LORD -- and rejoice before him.

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.

God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land...

Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign LORD comes escape from death."

I came about this passage quite ironically. A precious friend of mine who I know through a local support group for local clergywomen and other women involved in (career) ministry recently shared a few passages from Psalms that spoke to her during some devotion time. I've since deleted the email and been kicking myself for it because I've felt an urging of the Spirit to get back into the Word, and particularly feeling a pull toward the Psalms. (Hey, some people call Ghostbusters when there are strange, vexing events in their lives; I, however, resort to Psalms. Go figure.)

Anyhoo, at the same time, I've been doing some recreational reading as per usual during the summer. I've been putting off projects for PLMA, again as per usual, and I have to say, I heart Donald Miller. If you flip through my bookshelf over there on the right of the blog, you'll see two of his books there. I read, "Blue Like Jazz," last summer and was simply blown away by it. Miller takes something so profound as Christian spirituality and puts it into such grace-infused, simple, loving language that you just want to sit back and say, "Yeah, man...!" when you finish reading it. So, um, yeah... Oh yeah, summertime reading... So the other book on there is, "To Own A Dragon," which is Miller's look at what his life has been like as a result of growing up without a father. It really jumped out at me because of my life situation. I'm constantly wondering what impact our family tragedy will have on the kids as they mature and grow, and in particular I have a special ache in my heart for Bud. T. died when Bud was 9 months old. The word "dad" means something but not what it means for those of us who grew up in a household with a biological, or even adoptive (I suspect), father who was a positive, loving presence in our lives. I realize the word "dad" might make many people's skin crawl. In our situation, though, I envision Bud being on this lifequest to find out "who" he is because he lacked the love and presence of his dad and never really finding it, thus leading him down a dark, miserable path for years of his life. (I can't/won't comment on any future male influence for him and the impact that I suspect it could/would have. It would be pure speculation at this point, but it is my sincere prayer that it will, in fact, come about on the Lord's timing and be exactly what all three of us need. But I digress...)

So! Psalm devotion email + Donald Miller book = Psalm 68?!? OK, here's the connection: Miller lived with a friend and his family for a number of years. It was at this time that he was going through a lot of identity crisis and finally dealing with the hurt caused by his father ditching the family when he was quite small. He was incredibly isolated and lonely, even amongst friends. This hole in his heart really consumed him. He specifically mentioned v. 6a: "God sets the lonely in families..." He believed that God was teaching him something about fathers and sons and love by allowing him that intimate time living under the same roof as this close, loving Christian family.

I really identify with this passage on many levels. It's nice to know that God doesn't forget about those going through hard times, even when others seem to have. The hard reality is that life goes on, and no one else's life stops just because you have a crisis going on in yours. You haven't been forgotten, but it can feel like it. I don't necessarily believe that the scripture is specifically and singularly dealing with orphans and/or widows in v. 5. I think the concept being presented here is that He gives guidance, love, and direction to everyone, even and especially those who have none other in their lives. He ensures justice for those who can't defend themselves. Widows during Biblical times were strapped for survival from what I understand. They didn't have support groups and childcare; their only source of income was gone. During wartime, entire cities could have been left with no men around to provide a living. Entire generations and families were completely wiped out. If you were lucky, maybe you had a smelly, unattractive, single shepherd brother-in-law that inherited you. Otherwise, it was just you. Good luck! It's nice to know that, when the daily task of survival had to be attended to, you had God in your corner. Didn't make survival any easier no doubt, but at least maybe, for part of your day, your sense of isolation might not overwhelm you.

I know that having my children around has been my saving grace through everything. Yeah, there are days when I call them by their "pet" names, Heckyll and Jeckyll, which they find hysterical even though they haven't a clue what I'm talking about. But as lonely as I have been in various ways since T. went Home, I have had two reasons for living that have kept me sane: Lil' G and Bud. He set me in a family, a blessed burden which I love so dearly and will never feel as though I've ever deserved.

I love the praise imagery in this passage, too. To see Adonai riding on the clouds -- no doubt with His beard flowing like that of a gnarly old Harley rider -- is way cool. And v. 20 is such hope for anyone of any circumstance: death can mean so many things here. 99% of you will no doubt say, "God sent Jesus to die for our sins; he saves us from death and the grave." Thank you, little Susie, here's your gold star. Would anyone else like to give an answer? Perhaps step out of the box?? What about other forms of death besides physical or spiritual death? What about that nasty black funk we get into when we're going through crisis? As the "normal" person we were before is shed as we molt our exoskeleton and lie there as a wet, defenseless new creature, looking pretty beat up and pathetic? What death have you experienced in life? Death of a spouse/child/parent/friend/etc.? Divorce? Infidelity? Getting fired? Bad test results or a diagnosis? Abuse? Depression? Significant problems with your teenage child? How long could this list really get?!? There are things probably every day that could lay us out, save the grace of God. He doesn't just swoop in on that Harley-Davidson cloud of His and carry us off into glory. But I believe that, by having a relationship with God, it saves you so much heartache. You can't prevent these things from happening, but you do have a way to make sense out of something that seems incomprehensible. I love that Natalie Grant song, "Held," which starts off talking about a 2 month old baby, dying as his mother prays for him:

Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we'd be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
Were asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it's unfair

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held

This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held

If hope is born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held

I think that's what the word "saves" means here. God can't keep all the bad things from happening in our lives. What He can do is hold us, be there with us, number our tears, and give us the promise that He really does love us and will dry each of these tears. He is truly sovereign over these things and is faithful to His word.

Maria Chapman

What a beautiful family. My heart literally explodes in black, foul grief when I think of the little face that won't be in the next family picture that Steven Curtis Chapman and his family take. The little girl sitting in his lap, Maria, just turned 5 years old less than 10 days ago. And now she is gone.

HOWEVER! Victory over the grave is still given to those with the name of Jesus on their lips. Praise our Almighty God for this provision that makes times like these not crush us with their pain and magnitude.

If you click on the title of this blog, you will be redirected to SCC's website that gives information. But the best part of this site is the page where you get to "meet" Maria. What a darling little girl! I have several friends who have adopted "China girls," as they have decided to be called. I wonder about Maria's birthmother, what she went through as she went through her pregnancy and delivery, and finally the last time she laid eyes on her beautiful baby girl. One of my friends whose daughter is Chinese said that there are "drop off stations," unofficial places where the orphanages know to check constantly where moms leave these babies. We won't even talk here about orphanages. How amazing is it, though, in God's plan, that He chose for this little girl to not fall through the cracks of a governmental system, but to end up in America with a family that loved and cherished her! Think, again, how many women in our own country have children that they never wanted to begin with, have many kids they treat terribly, and then those whose arms ache for children but can't even conceive one.

I wonder what went through SCC and his wife's minds as they held her for the first time, all of the "firsts" that come and go so quickly that we barely get them documented in their baby books before high school graduation. I wonder what each of their other kids thought as Maria became one of the family and what their dearest memories will be of her.

And even though I've been through deep personal loss, I do wonder what raw emotions they are going through right now. Just because one person has lost a spouse, parent, child, etc., doesn't mean that they have the FOGGIEST idea of what another person experiences in crisis. Just in case you're ever wondering what to say in moments like that, let me tell you that less is more. Just a physical presence, and even silence, can be more comforting than a well-chosen thought or Bible verse.

I can't think of any better way to end this blog than in SCC's words in the song, "Cinderella." I think of how close Lil' G and T. were and how R. fits into the future picture every time I hear this song. I also remind myself to live in the moment more with my children.

I give you, "Cinderella."

"My Soul Wells Up With Hallelujahs..."

Just saw this over at S4J's page. It's by far one (of many) of my favorite Chris Rice songs. So, watch this lovely video and read the description that the El-shaddai Himself gives of the magnitude of His creations and His knowledge in Job 38:1-42:6...

Webgem of the Week: "Tears of the Saints"

Let me just say, I heart Leeland. What an amazing CC band! (read: contemporary Christian) They have such a fresh, musically innovative way of spreading the Gospel message of love and forgiveness. This is one of my favorite songs of theirs, beat out by, "Carried to the Table," a song in reference to Mephibosheth, son of Jonathan and grandson of Saul, who is brought into a place of honor in King David's household, but that is a WHOLE other blog! (And quite possibly my devotion at Chicas '08, but I digress...)

Anyhoo, I hope this will bless everyone who watches the video and stirs up in us a few things:

1) The desire to serve the homeless in our country; and,

2) The desire to minister to the spiritually homeless in our own neighborhoods, churches, and families.

When you listen to the song, you immediately have images in your mind quite similar to what you see in the video; however, I think there's a whole other side to it that is even more unpleasant to the palate, and that is: how many of these "lost" and "crippled" are there walking around well-dressed, sitting next to us at church, working down the hall from us, driving nice cars and living in suburban homes? When is the last time any of us extended a truly listening ear to someone who felt alone in a crowd of friends because of something they were going through in life? I know I have felt like one of those people over the last 2 1/2 years. Just because someone is a Christian, calls themselves a Christian, or attends church regularly doesn't mean that they are not in need of someone to be the hands of Christ reaching out to them, even if their need is unspoken. When is the last time we quit focusing on being THE person who leads some "poor, lost soul" into a saving relationship with Jesus Christ, and just focused instead on being examples of love and grace, stepping back to watch God do wonderful things that might or might not involve our interference?

May we be that light of love to the world for Christ. Amen.