I was watching Life Today this morning and they were featuring a new author named Gabe Lyons and his book "The Next Christians." There are a lot of truly compelling stories in this book, but one jumped out about some Christians that formed an organization call "To Write Love on Her Arms." They sell t-shirts to support treatment for those with depression and addiction. Here's a link to their website.
During the show, they told just enough about the story that began the organization to get me looking. A few minutes of googling and here's what I found (just have to share it because it's so beautiful):
Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.
Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.
She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.
The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.
She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.
I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.
Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.
She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.
On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.
Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.
After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.
She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.
As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."
I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.
We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.
We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.
I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Learning to Trust
I have a confession to make - I am terrible at trusting. Terrible. I mean it - TER - I - BULL.
I do love... truly and deeply. But without trust, what starts out as love gradually develops into resentment. Why? Because I feel alone. I feel like I give and give and give and get little in return. And though I think in some sense that is true (I really don't receive too much), it's not because people aren't trying to give me anything.
Think about it like this: Love is like a wrapped gift, you have to unwrap it to fully receive it; but without trust, I am too scared that whatever is in there is not going to be something I like or worse yet is going to be something that hurts me. So I end up with piles of unwrapped gifts, many of which I am too suspicious of to even keep in the house (maybe there's a time bomb wrapped up to look like love) and others I admire from the outside, grateful to have received the gift but unwilling to really open it.
Can I be honest? This is a sucky way to live.
Now my Jackie would say something right about now, like "Paula, you are feeling this way right now, but you're actually doing much better at this." And she would be right. God has done some work, sent some people who I generally trust enough to open their packages. Not all of them of course - if they look too big or extravagant they sit around collecting dust or get the "too suspicious" label and get shipped out. But I have been doing much, much better.
This, of course, is a huge stumbling block in my relationship with God. Because, guess what, God sends bigger packages then anyone I've ever known. Let me give you some examples:
(1) Radical sacrificial love
Romans 5:6-8 You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
(2) Infinite love
Ephesians 3:14-19 For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
(3) Empowering love
Galatians 5:22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
Huge packages - HUGE. My nature is to slap the "too suspicious" label on those before they even get to my house. The minute they are suggested! Years ago, I had such a venomous response to those claims - "yeah, open that box and you'll find hand cuffs and all your dreams washed away" or "I know what comes in that wrapping paper, cruelty, judgement and condemnation." Basically alarms going off everywhere! My heart spinning in my chest - screaming "GET THAT OUT OF HERE! IT'S GOING TO BREAK ME!"
And it does break me when I let it in.
I can still see my generally controlled self standing in church next to my father and one of our worship leaders singing "Oh, How He Loves Us." My heart thumping so hard it felt like it my pop out, a lump so huge in my throat I could not sing and tears dripping off my chin. My flesh screaming - NO, NO, NO!
So this year, I've been focusing on learning to trust. I have a strong suspicion this going to take more than one year - but I am leaning in. Memorizing scripture related to trust.... and I just want to say (maybe to those of you who face similar struggles) it's hard. Definitely the hardest thing I have ever had to do. But I believe... I trust ... that it will be worth it.
I love you.
I do love... truly and deeply. But without trust, what starts out as love gradually develops into resentment. Why? Because I feel alone. I feel like I give and give and give and get little in return. And though I think in some sense that is true (I really don't receive too much), it's not because people aren't trying to give me anything.
Think about it like this: Love is like a wrapped gift, you have to unwrap it to fully receive it; but without trust, I am too scared that whatever is in there is not going to be something I like or worse yet is going to be something that hurts me. So I end up with piles of unwrapped gifts, many of which I am too suspicious of to even keep in the house (maybe there's a time bomb wrapped up to look like love) and others I admire from the outside, grateful to have received the gift but unwilling to really open it.
Can I be honest? This is a sucky way to live.
Now my Jackie would say something right about now, like "Paula, you are feeling this way right now, but you're actually doing much better at this." And she would be right. God has done some work, sent some people who I generally trust enough to open their packages. Not all of them of course - if they look too big or extravagant they sit around collecting dust or get the "too suspicious" label and get shipped out. But I have been doing much, much better.
This, of course, is a huge stumbling block in my relationship with God. Because, guess what, God sends bigger packages then anyone I've ever known. Let me give you some examples:
(1) Radical sacrificial love
Romans 5:6-8 You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
(2) Infinite love
Ephesians 3:14-19 For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
(3) Empowering love
Galatians 5:22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
Huge packages - HUGE. My nature is to slap the "too suspicious" label on those before they even get to my house. The minute they are suggested! Years ago, I had such a venomous response to those claims - "yeah, open that box and you'll find hand cuffs and all your dreams washed away" or "I know what comes in that wrapping paper, cruelty, judgement and condemnation." Basically alarms going off everywhere! My heart spinning in my chest - screaming "GET THAT OUT OF HERE! IT'S GOING TO BREAK ME!"
And it does break me when I let it in.
I can still see my generally controlled self standing in church next to my father and one of our worship leaders singing "Oh, How He Loves Us." My heart thumping so hard it felt like it my pop out, a lump so huge in my throat I could not sing and tears dripping off my chin. My flesh screaming - NO, NO, NO!
So this year, I've been focusing on learning to trust. I have a strong suspicion this going to take more than one year - but I am leaning in. Memorizing scripture related to trust.... and I just want to say (maybe to those of you who face similar struggles) it's hard. Definitely the hardest thing I have ever had to do. But I believe... I trust ... that it will be worth it.
I love you.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Last Days
Hello Family,
It's been a little while since I checked in - it's been a wild ride since then with a lot of stuff happening. For example, I was sick the last time I posted. I had been sick for about a week without really taking any medication (this is pretty typical for me) and it took another whole week before I went to the doctor (again, just like me) who told me it looked like I had the beginning stages of walking pneumonia. Believe it or not, being sick for about a month makes you incredibly tired and cranky - also, going to the doctor helps! Who knew?!? For those of you who saw my sad self, prayed for and urged me to go to the doctor know that I eventually followed through and am feeling a world better!!
Also in this period, I went to the memorial service for a dear friends mother. It was really beautiful. I am a pretty "morbid" person - in the sense that reality of death and the fragility and temporariness of life are a pretty active part of my awareness. So for example, it's really rare for me not to think at some point during the day about the fact that this may be the last time I see so-and-so, even if I have a lunch date with them tomorrow. I just think that way.
I tell you this, so that you understand I am constantly aware of the fact that people don't really live their lives. As one of my former clients put it. "they just go back and forth to the mail box collecting bills and then working to pay them." But Kay (that's the name of woman whose memorial service I attended) really lived - and when you really live, it shows all over. It showed on the hospice record of visitors, it showed in the stories told about her, it showed in the sea of pictures where she was present and smiling (and not hiding from the camera like I might be). And I felt so happy to see a life well lived, and so encouraged that when we turn our lives over to Him we SHALL DOUBTLESS really live our lives.
I don't know about you all - but I can honestly say I am living my life for a memorial service like Kay's. I am living my life with the hope that a sea of faces will fill that room, full of stories and love, full of the presence of God. It just brings me back to that Nichole Nordeman song Legacy.
I wanna leave a legacy, how will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough to make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering. A child of mercy and grace, who blessed Your name unapologetically.
To leave that kind of legacy.
Not well traveled, not well read. Not well to-do or well bread.
Just wanna hear instead, "Well done, good and faithful one."
I mean that's it. That is what it is all about - and I feel so incredibly privileged to have real women examples before me.
Speaking of last days, I've also been having a lot of last Las Vegas days. Last day of WOW, last day of work, Syd's last day of school. I've got a little more than a month here and I imagine the last days will continue to come. (Hey maybe that guy who said the last days were starting last weekend was right, he just didn't realize he was speaking to me exclusively!)
Last days are so bitter sweet for me. I am resting in the assurance of God, that where He leads He will provide. If you know me at all this is less like rest and more like a daily inner battle.... but our God is amazing and meets me patiently where I am, with assurances and blessings literally sitting just the other side of a plane ride. But I love so many here - and good-byes are so hard for me (see the section on my morbidity above). I have found Him here - in the safety and familiarity. But I think the thing with God is that safety and familiarity are not often His plan; instead it is Risk and Reward. Battle and Victory. Faith and Glory.
Today I was asked to read Psalm 126 as part of Bible Study - it seems an appropriate way to close.
When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion,
we were like those who dreamed.
Our mouths were filled with laughter,
our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations
"The LORD has done great things for them."
The LORD has done great things for us
and we are filled with joy.
Restore our fortunes, LORD,
like streams in the Negev.
Those who sow with tears
will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping,
carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with them.
I love you all.
It's been a little while since I checked in - it's been a wild ride since then with a lot of stuff happening. For example, I was sick the last time I posted. I had been sick for about a week without really taking any medication (this is pretty typical for me) and it took another whole week before I went to the doctor (again, just like me) who told me it looked like I had the beginning stages of walking pneumonia. Believe it or not, being sick for about a month makes you incredibly tired and cranky - also, going to the doctor helps! Who knew?!? For those of you who saw my sad self, prayed for and urged me to go to the doctor know that I eventually followed through and am feeling a world better!!
Also in this period, I went to the memorial service for a dear friends mother. It was really beautiful. I am a pretty "morbid" person - in the sense that reality of death and the fragility and temporariness of life are a pretty active part of my awareness. So for example, it's really rare for me not to think at some point during the day about the fact that this may be the last time I see so-and-so, even if I have a lunch date with them tomorrow. I just think that way.
I tell you this, so that you understand I am constantly aware of the fact that people don't really live their lives. As one of my former clients put it. "they just go back and forth to the mail box collecting bills and then working to pay them." But Kay (that's the name of woman whose memorial service I attended) really lived - and when you really live, it shows all over. It showed on the hospice record of visitors, it showed in the stories told about her, it showed in the sea of pictures where she was present and smiling (and not hiding from the camera like I might be). And I felt so happy to see a life well lived, and so encouraged that when we turn our lives over to Him we SHALL DOUBTLESS really live our lives.
I don't know about you all - but I can honestly say I am living my life for a memorial service like Kay's. I am living my life with the hope that a sea of faces will fill that room, full of stories and love, full of the presence of God. It just brings me back to that Nichole Nordeman song Legacy.
I wanna leave a legacy, how will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough to make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering. A child of mercy and grace, who blessed Your name unapologetically.
To leave that kind of legacy.
Not well traveled, not well read. Not well to-do or well bread.
Just wanna hear instead, "Well done, good and faithful one."
I mean that's it. That is what it is all about - and I feel so incredibly privileged to have real women examples before me.
Speaking of last days, I've also been having a lot of last Las Vegas days. Last day of WOW, last day of work, Syd's last day of school. I've got a little more than a month here and I imagine the last days will continue to come. (Hey maybe that guy who said the last days were starting last weekend was right, he just didn't realize he was speaking to me exclusively!)
Last days are so bitter sweet for me. I am resting in the assurance of God, that where He leads He will provide. If you know me at all this is less like rest and more like a daily inner battle.... but our God is amazing and meets me patiently where I am, with assurances and blessings literally sitting just the other side of a plane ride. But I love so many here - and good-byes are so hard for me (see the section on my morbidity above). I have found Him here - in the safety and familiarity. But I think the thing with God is that safety and familiarity are not often His plan; instead it is Risk and Reward. Battle and Victory. Faith and Glory.
Today I was asked to read Psalm 126 as part of Bible Study - it seems an appropriate way to close.
When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion,
we were like those who dreamed.
Our mouths were filled with laughter,
our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations
"The LORD has done great things for them."
The LORD has done great things for us
and we are filled with joy.
Restore our fortunes, LORD,
like streams in the Negev.
Those who sow with tears
will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping,
carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with them.
I love you all.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I am not kidding
Ok - As if the aesthetic beauty of the farmhouse were not unbelievable enough (it's really unbelievable)... this place has a history.
Here's part of it: A Christian song writer named Josh Garrels retreated to and wrote an album while living there. I'd never heard of him before, but I looked him up and this is what I found:
"The Stand" - Josh Garrels from Josh Garrels on Vimeo.
WOW - Seriously? I am too humbled to even speak to what a legacy like this means.
Thank you Lord.
Here's part of it: A Christian song writer named Josh Garrels retreated to and wrote an album while living there. I'd never heard of him before, but I looked him up and this is what I found:
"The Stand" - Josh Garrels from Josh Garrels on Vimeo.
WOW - Seriously? I am too humbled to even speak to what a legacy like this means.
Thank you Lord.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
It's a T-day
I feel terrible today.... tired and terrified. It's a T-day.
I imagine I am hard to be around on T-days - either full of fake smiles and laughs or somber and quiet.
I really hate this feeling.
I've drawn near to the Lord. I've even received a word just for me:
Psalm 143:8 Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life.
Unfortunately, it feels like a drop of water in the dessert - just as quickly dried up as it is poured.
It's fear that's turned me into this dessert. Fear, fear, fear.
Love, life - they cannot tolerate fear. So if you are going to be afraid - you cannot simultaneously love.This is ironic, because it is love that gets me into this mess every time. Or at least the risk of injury that loving others requires.
During our most recent series, Risk Love, Pastor Kevin discussed how we can love, only because we first trust God. The risk of injury for us is too much to bear without God's help, or the assurances of God's foundation.
Looks like that verse is incredibly timely indeed.
I love you.
I imagine I am hard to be around on T-days - either full of fake smiles and laughs or somber and quiet.
I really hate this feeling.
I've drawn near to the Lord. I've even received a word just for me:
Psalm 143:8 Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life.
Unfortunately, it feels like a drop of water in the dessert - just as quickly dried up as it is poured.
It's fear that's turned me into this dessert. Fear, fear, fear.
Love, life - they cannot tolerate fear. So if you are going to be afraid - you cannot simultaneously love.This is ironic, because it is love that gets me into this mess every time. Or at least the risk of injury that loving others requires.
During our most recent series, Risk Love, Pastor Kevin discussed how we can love, only because we first trust God. The risk of injury for us is too much to bear without God's help, or the assurances of God's foundation.
Looks like that verse is incredibly timely indeed.
I love you.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
I'm having a Dixie Chicks day. I am not generally a country music fan, but I love the Dixie Chicks. I love them altogether, but I really love Natalie Maines voice. There is something about the way her voice sounds, it makes my soul soar. It might be the most beautiful voice I've ever heard.
Anyway, it got me thinking about all of the secular artists that I really love and am grateful for. I post a lot of Christian music, but I still have a huge heart for beautiful artistry and honest lyrics, and some of the best are found in the secular world. So here are my favorites...
#86 Ben Folds - maybe my favorite musician of all time. The whole package - incredible musical talent, matched with incredible lyrical ability. Here's links to some of my favorite songs: Magic, The Luckiest (David and my song), Mess, Annie Waits, Trusted
#87 Weezer - my favorite album is Pinkerton. Which is not going to win any family friendly awards, but is raw and honest. It was also the soundtrack to my trip to Brazil and my closest high school friendship (love you, Steffie Lou).
#88 REM - my favorite album is Up. Not their most popular album, but gripping in its gravity and somber timbre.Probably my favorite song from the album is At My Most Beautiful
#89 Sarah Mclachlan - everything. Well not everything - but that ethereal voice can make nearly everything sound beautiful. She also reminds me of my Jackie; especially, when she sings the Beatles Blackbird.
#90 Tori Amos - my favorite album is Little Earthquakes. And my favorite song is Precious Things. This song is incredibly raw and angry - and doesn't spell the most rosy picture of Christians either. But it is so, so honest and beautiful. It speaks directly to some of my deepest hurts in adolescence.
#91 Counting Crows - especially the album August and Everything After. Best song is Anna Begins.And it be wrong not to mention Rain King and Mr. Jones (which are single handedly responsible for delivering me from many a bad mood).
#92 James Taylor - again, everything. He's my male equivalent to Natalie Maines - His voice makes me melt. My favorite - Carolina in My Mind.
#93 Marc Broussard - This man is AMAZING! Here are a couple of my favorites: Home, Hope for Me Yet, Let the Music Get Down in Your Soul
#94 Mike Doughty - His Truth is Marching On, 27 Jennifers, Unsingable Name
WOW! I've been writing for an hour and I still haven't gotten to the Beatles, Tom Petty, Heart ..
Wow Lord. Do have an incredible list of things to be grateful for. Thank you for all of these talented people; many of whom are willing to be open, vulnerable and honest without the guarantee of your (our our) acceptance. It has been such an incredible encouragement and blessing to me. I love you.
Amen.
Anyway, it got me thinking about all of the secular artists that I really love and am grateful for. I post a lot of Christian music, but I still have a huge heart for beautiful artistry and honest lyrics, and some of the best are found in the secular world. So here are my favorites...
#86 Ben Folds - maybe my favorite musician of all time. The whole package - incredible musical talent, matched with incredible lyrical ability. Here's links to some of my favorite songs: Magic, The Luckiest (David and my song), Mess, Annie Waits, Trusted
#87 Weezer - my favorite album is Pinkerton. Which is not going to win any family friendly awards, but is raw and honest. It was also the soundtrack to my trip to Brazil and my closest high school friendship (love you, Steffie Lou).
#88 REM - my favorite album is Up. Not their most popular album, but gripping in its gravity and somber timbre.Probably my favorite song from the album is At My Most Beautiful
#89 Sarah Mclachlan - everything. Well not everything - but that ethereal voice can make nearly everything sound beautiful. She also reminds me of my Jackie; especially, when she sings the Beatles Blackbird.
#90 Tori Amos - my favorite album is Little Earthquakes. And my favorite song is Precious Things. This song is incredibly raw and angry - and doesn't spell the most rosy picture of Christians either. But it is so, so honest and beautiful. It speaks directly to some of my deepest hurts in adolescence.
#91 Counting Crows - especially the album August and Everything After. Best song is Anna Begins.And it be wrong not to mention Rain King and Mr. Jones (which are single handedly responsible for delivering me from many a bad mood).
#92 James Taylor - again, everything. He's my male equivalent to Natalie Maines - His voice makes me melt. My favorite - Carolina in My Mind.
#93 Marc Broussard - This man is AMAZING! Here are a couple of my favorites: Home, Hope for Me Yet, Let the Music Get Down in Your Soul
#94 Mike Doughty - His Truth is Marching On, 27 Jennifers, Unsingable Name
WOW! I've been writing for an hour and I still haven't gotten to the Beatles, Tom Petty, Heart ..
Wow Lord. Do have an incredible list of things to be grateful for. Thank you for all of these talented people; many of whom are willing to be open, vulnerable and honest without the guarantee of your (our our) acceptance. It has been such an incredible encouragement and blessing to me. I love you.
Amen.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Happy Easter
Sigh - it's been a long weekend. A very long weekend.
But before I went to bed tonight - I just wanted to say Happy Easter.
For those of you who celebrate with me - He is Risen! The victory is ours. Good triumphs, Love wins. What a day to remember!
For those of you who don't - I love you. I hope you can be encouraged that today represents the pinnacle of the Christian faith - that we believe that God came down, suffered for our benefit and then defeated death. This is the "gospel", the "good news". If you hear anything different - that's not the gospel.
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whosoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16
Goodnight. I love you.
But before I went to bed tonight - I just wanted to say Happy Easter.
For those of you who celebrate with me - He is Risen! The victory is ours. Good triumphs, Love wins. What a day to remember!
For those of you who don't - I love you. I hope you can be encouraged that today represents the pinnacle of the Christian faith - that we believe that God came down, suffered for our benefit and then defeated death. This is the "gospel", the "good news". If you hear anything different - that's not the gospel.
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whosoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16
Goodnight. I love you.
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