hallerween...

Excessive indoor seasonal decorations: check.
Orange lights in every window, on the bushes, on the fence: check.
Four fan-inflated enormous characters: check.
Six lighted pumpkins: check.
One half garage partitioned off with rolls of black plastic: check.
Three fog machines: check.
Spiders: check.
Cobwebs: check.
Lava lamps: check.
Black lights: check.
Mummy: check.
Creepy stuff: check.
Hidden holes and mischievous plans: check.
Scary music: check.
Cackle: The one night of the year my laugh is cool. check.
Candy: tba
Food: tba
Strobe lights: missing
Showtime: dusk

Stop by if you're dare...mwahhhh...ha...ha...ha....

waaa...

Wow. Who was that whiny soul who kidnapped my blog and where was I when she was complaining herself silly? Must be stopped. Must think happy thoughts. Must get on with it.

Must be smacked next time I do that...

It settles in in small pieces. Deceased. Who decided that was the most legal of terms to describe someone who was touchable one minute and gone the one after? And did they step on this side of the paper long enough to think that maybe there might be something more grief friendly? The last will and testament. Has the feel of cold dirt. Bravefaced when necessary but a puddle at the sight of a silly scarecrow. Losing like this defies consolation and writes its own script moment by moment. Always someone better off, always someone so much worse. He didn't suffer. He's with your mom. He was doing what he loved to do. Yup. Yup. Yup. All happy thoughts. Still doesn't quell the ache that keeps surfacing. Nor does it help it make any sense. I want him back. This just doesn't feel right and underneath all the proper responses faith would ask of me I'm mad. I'm stinking mad. I'm mad because there are so many people who don't spend any time with their parents at all, whose world wouldn't miss them and theirs will live until their teeth fall out. It isn't fair. My mom was my best friend and my dad took her place. I have great memories and fewer regrets but it makes it hurt all the more to be without them.

Threw myself a pity party tonight but that's just where I am. He should be showing up Monday night with a plaid flannel jacket and saunter up the drive way with his unnecessary offerings and tell me his chili is better but mine's decent. He'd sit by the fire with Kevin and quietly "be here" until it was time to put his dog to bed and head home. I'm just really, really going to miss him.

Ok. I need to put this scarecrow out on the porch and get on with it. After all, he didn't suffer, he's with mom now and he was doing something he loved to do...

good intentions...

finding a birthday card with a note tucked inside about how grateful I am to have such a wonderful dad and how safe it feels to have him in my world...still sitting on my desk...

peeve of the day...

Is it just me, or are mechanical pencils more trouble than they're worth? Give me a #2 any day of the week. I'm tired of the breaking lead and endless clicking. And actually, I should just bite the dust and master some type of notation software to avoid pencils altogether. In my folder...

PS. Lowery's post today is worth the read...not that it isn't usually...just sayin it'd be worth your time...not that it's a waste of time ever...just that...well, just read it.

ifs and buts...

if I weren't such a procrastinator I wouldn't be so overwhelmed by my expanding folder of to- dos that never seem to get done-

if I weren't so into this world it wouldn't take a sunset and a great loss for me to long for the next-

if my dad hadn't gone for that pile of wood maybe he'd be ringing my doorbell holding a plastic bag full of coffee, apples or random catalogs-

if I were a better "me" I'd close my eyes at night without all the if only's-

but:

I blog.

I shop.

I grieve.

I regret.

if "ifs" and "buts" were candy and nuts, we'd all have a wonderful Christmas...

bein's we:

That's how the preacher begun the sentence that presented Saturday's bride and groom to the congregation. Bein's we. And let's not forget the "well..." with an uncomfortable pause 'for their first kiss. Ugh. If I perish eternal, it were because of my impatience with grammatical challenged tongues. Specially what I comed from a long line of similar folks. [That, and making fun of vision campaigns...]

And then there was that loud snicker from the groom's grandpa when he began saying his vows. After the groomsmen prematurely entered before the mom's were seated. Because they couldn't be seated until grandma #one actually decided to process down the aisle instead of standing there while we started the song all over again. And after they decided to send the flowers girls first instead of last without telling us of the change, completely negating the music cue we had arranged for the bride the night before. Much fun.

Believe it or not they got 'r done and it was a very pretty wedding. But seriously...we are going to make Dooley seem like a kitten at Shawna's rehearsal...bein's I'm anal and all.

??

Billboard: Climbed Everest. Blind.

Question: And you're sure?

too much rain...

I admit it: I had a great time last night and although the jury's still out on whether this concert was in fact worth the inflated ticket price, it is at least in the "money well spent" ballpark. While I'm confessing, I also agreed to being bilked for another nice chunk of change to acquire a program for Kevin, pewter bracelet for myself and t-shirt for Shawna. I am a marketer's dream.

I didn't show up in a Sgt. Pepper's coat. I didn't scream. I didn't drool or throw my bra on stage. I did enjoy myself. Paul's pretty amazing. And his band flat out rocked. All the tech stuff rocked. Way, way cool. I clapped some but mostly just sat and took it all in. I smiled at Pam looking like a bopper. I smiled at Kevin looking like he might cry at any moment. I smiled that Shawna was sitting next to him. I was glad to be there and at some point it began to sink in that being there actually was a pretty awesome thing and that as far as this life goes, times like these are sometimes hard to come by.

Most of the evening I felt more like an observer than a participant, but when we got to the na na's in Hey Jude, and the crowd started singing I opened my mouth and sang along. I wanted to sing with the legend that is Paul McCartney and it was a cool moment. Very cool. Cool enough in fact that he just claimed another fan :) I know I joked about having to listen to him all the way there but on the way home I was the one who wanted to give Flaming Pie another listen. Who knew? There are for sure a couple projects that only saw the light of day because of who he is, but there is some really nice work there that I hadn't really appreciated until now. (Perhaps I'll need to suffer through a Dylan concert after all...)

Kevin followed Flaming Pie with some of his lesser known recordings, some good, some not so good, some "what was he thinking?" and somewhere in there it began to rain. The clouds had been flirting with us all day but they decided to commit and commit they did. I finally turned off the CD player hoping to concentrate a little more on the pavement that had become nearly impossible to see. The skies looked heavy and dark and our wipers suck. There were people pulling over but we persevered especially since Shawna needed to be back for fuel tonight. There was a van off the road and I kept visualizing the Almighty's hands surrounding us, keeping us safe. Shawna asked if I'd play the song she was supposed to lead at fuel tonight so we popped it in. #4 on the Hillsongs United 'Look to You' CD. We listened to "All I Need Is You" singing along with the chorus, still a bit tense from the dealing with the elements. Pam commented that the sun was setting and she could see glimpses of it through the black sky. At the end of the song I skipped ahead to #11 "Til I See You" and it began:

"It" was something I will not be able to recreate for you here. But it was just way too amazing not to try. This song is one of those "change your life" kinds of songs, or at least if your blood is warm it should be. I wish you could hear it playing as you read this. The sky that had been dangerously black began to clear and the rain that had threatened to blind us began to soften. The sun that Pam had promised was setting behind the clouds began to reclaim the sky and for the next 20 minutes or so, we were kissed by our Creator and we kissed Him back.

I was driving 75 but it felt like we were in slow motion. I hate this. I can't write this well enough to describe it all. You know that scene in Contact when she wakes up on the beach? How beautiful it is? How serene, how "other" it is? Well, it felt like we were driving, or floating through a piece of heaven, like the van was gliding through Jell-O or something. And no, we weren't high from last night's event. She (sorry Ryan, but it was Darlene and it was gorgeous...) began to sing of the faithfulness of God, of His calm in the midst of a storm, I'm telling you, it was like a movie soundtrack. The colors of the sky, the expanse of the heavens, the sprinkles of rain, the nearness of the Father. I wanted to pull over and at the same time, there was something surreal about the movement of the van against the sky. I felt suspended in time. Words won't do it justice. We didn't speak. I know we were all just captivated by the beauty of the whole thing. The CD ends with none other than an extended arrangement of "Awesome God" and it carried us through the exit for home. Now this guy, this God of mine, I would throw myself on the stage for Him, and if eternity begins anything like this, I won't be screaming, I'll be smiling, face and hands up in the air taking it all in and speechless.

I had liked the song "Too Much Rain" on Paul's latest CD even before I heard it live, but I like it even more now. I'm sure it resonated with me because of losing dad and all, but after the storm tonight it has added significance. It was not lost on me that in the midst of the rain, when we can't see two feet in front of us, the hands that orchestrate the setting sun, whether we can see it or not, holds us, whether we know it or not. And honestly there are days that simply have too much rain, btdt more than once, but that sun tonight and the sky that surrounded it, not only escape my description, but deepen my appreciation for the rain. I have encountered His presence watching a lovely sunset at the end of a lovely day, but experiencing this one as it appeared at the end of a torrential downpour was a divine encounter with the One who speaks it into being.

A couple weeks ago my dad called me several times one evening in the midst of a little storm chasing. His last call that night was to tell me to look at the sky. A sky that from where he was located afforded him the view of a triple rainbow. I couldn't see it from my yard but I enjoyed it through his eyes. I'm electing to believe he saw the one tonight and that maybe, just maybe he isn't that far away. And Paul is indeed a legend in our time and his music moved me and entertained me, but it didn't change me and it didn't make me long for home. And I do long for home. It was just nice to be reminded.

Lord, come quickly...

outta here...

We are headed to Chicago this morning to see Paul McCartney in concert this evening at the United Center. Pam and Kevin are beside themselves. I'm beside Kevin. Sha's beside me. Not a huge fan, but hey, it is Paul McCartney. I paid the hefty ticket price to see Kevin look like a teenager since I missed it the first time round. I saw him looking through CD's this morning...sure I'll have enough Paul in my system to last me the rest of my life...but I wouldn't have it any other way and it could always be worse- it could be Dylan. (love ya B...)

Have a great Weds. & Thurs. we be out of here...

what a difference...

a few hours make: seriously sleep deprived...that nap felt good.

a day makes: watching the evening's first couple take to the dance floor with time at a stand still...

a week makes: one unexpected passing, one funeral and three weddings...yup. three.

a month makes: digging from parts of the closet I haven't been into for years...

a year makes: but the jordan never looked more beautiful...

a prayer makes: only logical reason this week didn't get the best of me. thanks all.

a time to dance...

We're off in a couple hours to Indiana where we'll celebrate what God has done and what God has joined together. Our good friends, Brian and Sarah, will begin their lives together tomorrow night and we get to see a sometimes difficult and painful journey lead us to a place where God was already waiting. Words will never begin to convey the beauty or providence of this sacred occasion. It is all that is pure, and lovely, and right. God's richest, brightest, deepest blessings on you both. May you forever enjoy His presence as He settles in among you. You're home. I love you both.

tlgbybyaatway...

rejoice with me...

I was asked for copies of what I shared at dad's memorial mass yesterday morning and to the best of my recollection, this is it. Some I had briefly prepared, some was just what came out and I'm still in a bit of a fog as we process this. The rest of this day and the ones to immediately follow will be filled with activity and I need to pocket "this" and turn my energies into the life that begs for living in front of me, and somehow push the pause button on the grief that threatens to brink the rims of my heart, but God is good. And He is teaching me faster than I can type. Praise His name, He is so very good. Thanks for all the love and prayers on our behalf. They are being heard...

_____________

We'll only know when I get on the other side of this, if "this" was a good idea or not, but I'd like to share something God has shown me in the last few hours, something I would have never imagined sharing at a time like this, nothing like what I imagined I would say.

A friend of mine sent me this quote when she heard about dad.

“Let your hook be always cast; in the pool where you least expect it, there will be a fish."- Ovid

Well, I caught a fish in a pool where I least expected it. Many of you know my father was Catholic and my mother was not. Both my sister and I were christened here in this church but we were raised in the protestant faith. Little did I know I would one day spend close to 20 years teaching in Catholic schools and planning the music for hundreds of masses. I came to appreciate and honor the beauty of liturgy and the rich traditions that meant so much to my father and his family.

I have always loved to study the Bible, as long as I can remember I’ve enjoyed digging for understanding and insight in search of knowing God and knowing His Son more deeply. I admitted to John and Shawna last night that I sometimes wished I had had a father who might have shared that passion with me, who might have fed my appetite to learn and understand. Most of my young life this fire was fueled by our mother who kept her Nave’s concordance next to her Bible and made countless notes in the margins from lessons she’d learn. It wasn’t until the last year or so I began to get a closer glimpse of the faith of my father, a faith I had measured on Biblical facts and history alone. This “fish” I caught was in a completely different pool.

All these years I had wanted my dad to assume a stronger leadership role in my spiritual development and it has taken me all this time to realize that’s exactly what he had been doing all along.

Love God. Love people.

That’s just about as simple as it gets and yet it’s as profound as anything I’ve ever learned in any study I’ve ever done. This man I called dad had that nailed a long time ago. And after five hours of standing in line last night hearing the stories of how he had loved God and loved people, well let’s just say my “bobber” went down deep and hard. This fish that almost “got away” was the realization that my father was the spiritual leader of our home and he mentored me and matured my faith just by being who he was. You see, looking back now, as hard as it was to lose mom, I’m so grateful for these last few years I’ve had to get to know dad better, to see this side of him. He became such a good friend. God knew exactly what He was doing.

Love God. My mom was that rock who fueled that fire to know and love His word, that firm foundation we would need to build upon, and she instilled that in me, in Veronica, in Jan, in Shawna… what a legacy she left behind. And no one I know loved people like my dad did. He was one of the most servant-hearted people I've ever known, and as far as the fruit of the Spirit, he nailed every one of them. On a good day I have a few, but he lived them all.

Earlier this past Spring my dad called me one morning (thankful I quit my job…) and he skipped the hello altogether and began with “Rejoice with me!” I remember laughing and expecting him to proceed with a lovely passage from Psalms or something, but instead, he said, “I have opened a double-yolked egg and my cup overfloweth!” I even blogged about it at the time and gave him a copy of it. From then on, he would begin frequent conversations or phone calls with “Rejoice with me!” and share some simple praise he had on his heart, like "I was fishing and I know the Good Lord did this, or did this..." Another time he called and once again omitting the hello began with, “What a beautiful day the Lord hath made…and she said?” “Ummmm….Amen?” “No…..let…” and I joined him, “us rejoice and be glad in it…” In the readings we used this morning from Psalm 118 and Philippians 4, I picked them because I think dad would want us all to rejoice with him. I keep picturing that photo on the memory board last night, of him wrapping his arms around my mom, and her waist tiny once again, and not letting go. And I believe with all my heart that is what he would say to us today...

Rejoice with me.

Rejoice.

We’re going to play his favorite song, “Praise His Name”, it meant a lot to him since mom died.

Praise His Name
(by Bruce Haymes & Lee Hendrix, recorded by Sheri and Jeff Easter)

When you’re up against the wall (Psalm 118...)
And your mountain seems so tall,
And you realize that life’s not always fair.
You can run away and hide
Let the old man decide
Or you can change your circumstances
With a prayer

When everything falls apart
Praise His name
When you have a broken heart
Raise your hands and say
“Lord, You’re all I need
You’re everything to me”
And He’ll take the pain away
When it seems you’re all alone
Praise His name
When you feel you can’t go on
Just raise your hands and say
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
If you’ll just praise His name

You can over come by the blood of the lamb
And by the word of your testimony
You’ll see the darkness go
As your faith begins to grow
You’re not alone, so how can you be lonely?

When everything falls apart
Praise His name
When you have a broken heart
Raise your hands and say
“Lord, You’re all I need
You’re everything to me”
And He’ll take the pain away
When it seems you’re all alone
Praise His name
When you feel you can’t go on
Just raise your hands and say
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
If you’ll just praise His name...

Loss is the most significant difference between these mountains and valleys we call life. I made the mistake of thinking I could linger a while more where the view is bright and the path easy. But to the valley we go and though He stands there braving the enemy in my place it is still a most painful valley.

If I had only. If he had only.

Not now. Not like this. Not yet.

Please give him back. Please give us a do over. And please not this blasted valley. Exactly how broken must I be. This hurts so bad and I just don't want to be here.

Not now. Not like this. Not yet.

You're supposed to tell us what to do. You're supposed to read me dumb poems over the phone. You're supposed to stop by and bring me coffee. You're supposed to dance with my baby on her wedding night. You're supposed to die in your sleep twenty years from now and outlive your precious dog.

You're supposed to be in the hallway tomorrow morning doling out candy and hugs.

It just wasn't supposed to be like this.

Not now. Not yet.

Not you.

conviction in aisle fifteen...

I ran into someone I had in choir for years and spent 15 minutes or so catching up on his part of the world and sharing mine. As he turned to go he commented that it was nice talking to me, that it was the longest conversation he'd ever had with me, citing my hectic schedule on Sundays and Wednesdays as the difficulty in doing so before. He in no way meant that as a criticism, more of a passing comment really, but boy it has stayed with me.

I noticed in Mustard Seed the other night that October is Ministry Appreciation Month. I even sent a few e-cards to folks to thank them for the sacrifice they make to be in full time ministry. A sacrifice I well remember. His comment yesterday makes me sad for the times I was so intent on doing ministry that apparently my worst fears are true: I ended up doing a job and missed ministry in the process. Hey it happens-and I know I did in fact manage to do some significant ministry along the way, and I also had lots of meaningful conversations and relationships with people in the process, but man I missed some folks. I missed being there for them when they needed me to listen or care, and sped past them in pursuit of time management wrapped as a tight rehearsal. I'm sorry for those times. I tried to breathe and "see" them, I really did, but I know I didn't see or hear them all, and He would have. He wouldn't have had the first significant conversation with someone in the middle of a grocery aisle after years of rehearsals and worship services just passing in the hall.

Ministry is hard. You get so wrapped up in it, all the beauty, all the flaws. All the dreams and passion. Always wanting to give Him everything, every minute, every meeting, every project, every event. One just feeds on the one before and the calendar fills in until you find yourself spinning a stack of plates that have more programs and deadlines on them than people and you wake up one morning wondering how it happened to you when you said it never would. And being the better part of a year on this side of the spinning dinnerware I can see it from a completely new perspective. Make no mistake, paid ministry is a dream come true. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. But don't believe for a second it's easy. It is a total sacrifice. Being called takes everything you are. There's no line drawn between ministry and the rest of your life, it's one and the same. That's why it comes dangerously close to destroying people when it ends badly. His name is worth it...just not sure it requires it. Not when we lose sight of those we were called to serve in the first place along the way.

All that to say, I blew it sometimes and if I've ever blown it with you, I'm sorry. And also to say, be sure and thank those around you in ministry. Hey, take them out for lunch. Then they'll have to talk to you :) And if you're in ministry, let me encourage you to do whatever it takes to find that balance. It's just flat out about people, ya know?

Blessings...

motb 212...

Here ya go...the latest of updates which have been few and far between recently. This wedding is 7 months away as of today's date and we of course are trying not to think about it yet. Hard not to, with the influx of weddings in our lives this summer. If not personal friends and family, there have been a number of others Shawna and I are playing/singing for...it's just crazy. But for my little bride-to-be, here are the latest details.

Got the bill for her dress. I must have misread the tag...but I wouldn't have done any differently. It's a dream dress and it will be worth it seeing her that day.

Found suits for the groom/groomsmen. Couldn't find tuxes like we wanted so we opted for suits. Lots of suits, and this way the guys will get to keep them after their investment instead of renting. They are really sharp.

Shawna and John asked their flower girl the other night but still need to figure out the ring bearer scenario. And John still needs to call some of his guys. Especially since I have their suits :)

Found someone to make the bridesmaid's dresses. This was a real challenge. We have a picture of what we want and a dress we found that's pretty close to work from. Having some trouble locating the material we want but we have started looking.

We still have to decide on invitations and a caterer. Flowers and cakes. Table decorations and music. Or at least some of the music. We have her coming in and going out already chosen. It will be amazing. I will cry. I will obsess a time or two before it's all said and done, but I've been obsessing over her for 20+ years and I'm probably not going to stop any time soon. Love. that. girl.

Much to do and we better be doin...

So I noticed him reaching for his cane as he transferred his weight from the grocery cart to his trusty, well worn friend. I noticed how slowly life had dictated he move and that his aged hands trembled as he placed his items on the conveyor belt. I placed the plastic divider between his things and mine and heard him tell the cashier he had forgotten his check book in the car and would have to go get it. He apologized and asked if she could total his things and set them aside, which she assured him would not be a problem. My hesitation allowed him time to shuffle almost to the door as I asked the bagger to run and tell him not to bother...I had already paid for them. Not sure he'd agree to let me, so I avoided eye contact and instead busied myself with my cart full of low-fat-splenda-instead-of-sugar-lean-and-wheat-diet-delights. I heard the cashier ask him if he needed help getting them to the car, so I knew he was still standing there and when I turned around he was waiting to tell me to come to his car and he would reimburse me. I smiled, patted him on the arm and asked him if he'd just let me get them, if he'd just let me do something that would make me feel good, that it wasn't that big of a deal. His 80 something lips began to quiver and his eyes filled with tears. He couldn't speak, so he just turned and walked toward the door. Such a tiny, frail man. The cashier thanked me and said how nice it was of me to do something like that. I said, I don't have my grandpas around anymore and it just wasn't that big of a deal. But you know...it's been a long time since spending $34 made me feel so incredibly wonderful. Not looking for a pat on the back, just hoping that in the sharing you might look for some way to pass along a random kindness. It sure makes a difference.

I had a cart load. Took a while to check out, bag it up and head to the car, and the man was just getting in his car when I walked past. He was still moving slowly, but I hope his heart was dancing. I know mine was.

somebody pinch me...

If I had known that a worship experience like I had yesterday morning was waiting to be found just minutes from where I had spent years searching for it, I would never have believed it. And, truth be known, I would never have felt the freedom to embrace it without the painful process leading me there. Different strokes for different folks, agreed, but my heart has craved a more demonstrative worship atmosphere for years as well as a body of believers actively engaged in listening. And by engaged, I mean audibly responsive to the Word of God being preached and applauded as it resonates and convicts and returns in no way, no how, empty. [I am not negating the sincerity of silent listeners in more reserved forms of worship as it is not my place to judge what is or isn't going on in their hearts. I have just often struggled with that silence and questioned why reverence is often equated with sitting still and enthusiasm reserved for athletic/concert events etc. I have also wondered if it is in any way even possible to look bored and half asleep when engaged in His presence.] What might be described as electricity in the air at a secular event, can only be explained as the Holy Spirit alive and well, quenching the thirst and hunger of a people who just can't seem to get enough, and there I am, in the midst of them. The thing is, this has been a recurring experience, week after week, month after month and seems to be deepening and taking shape as if the sheer glory of His presence is actually molding and changing the worship we offer and the way in which we offer it, into this beautiful sacrifice that has a life of its own; and in the offering becomes this amazing gift He gives back to those who offer it. I just have to smile and quietly take it all in: how I got here, why I got here, and where it's all going. A year ago, my world was simply falling apart and today, it has not only been lovingly put back together, it looks more beautiful than I ever remember it, and only the Creator of my universe could do something like that.


"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." -Ephesians 3:20-21