confession of a groupie

...i've checked their tour dates and if i could i'd follow them across the country!

The new Shane & Shane album, Pages, was released today. I've been waiting several months for this and I can't remember the last time I was even aware of an album release date!

You've got to check it out. I've heard that the track We Love You Jesus has already gotten lots of radio time...hopefully that hasn't killed the song already. I've been able to hear that and Embracing Accusation live. If you listen to nothing else on the album you've got to hear that song...it wrecked me when I heard it performed at Granger last fall. That, by the way, was my first introduction to these two.

(David and Susan get to hear them live soon. You gotta tell us all about it, ya hear?!?)

Embracing Accusation

Father of lies, coming to steal kill and destroy

All my hopes of being good enough

I hear him saying, “cursed are the ones who can’t abide”

He’s right, halleluia, he’s right

The devil is preaching the song of the redeemed

That I am cursed and gone astray

I cannot gain salvation

Embracing accusation

Could the father of lies be telling the truth

of God to me tonight?

That if the penalty of sin is death, then death is mine

I hear him saying, “cursed are the ones who can’t abide”

The devil’s singing over me an age old song

That I am cursed and gone astray

Singing the first verse so conveniently over me

He’s forgotten the refrain.

JESUS SAVES!!!

Art Show on Main 2007

(pic: last year's art show; guest artist Andy Palmer)

Here it is...the Prospectus I've been working on for this year's Art Show on Main. The theme "Mosaic" revolves around a topic that literally gives me goose bumps. Would love to hear your thoughts....

Art Show on Main 2007 PROSPECTUS: “Mosaic”
A NOTE ON THE THEME


mo·sa·ic [moh-zey-ik] noun, adjective, verb, -icked, -ick·ing.
–noun
1. a picture or decoration made of small, colored pieces of inlaid stone, glass, etc.
2. the process of producing such a picture or decoration.
3. something resembling such a picture or decoration in composition, esp. in being made up of diverse elements: ex., a mosaic of borrowed ideas.


Contrasts carry a certain fascination. For example, vanilla and chocolate ice cream. Alone each flavor is tasty. Wound together into a soft-serve twist cone – sheer genius.


And consider the contrast displayed in that now familiar photo of the Conklin elementary school sign promoting good character. The word on the sign, “Persistence”, stands in stark contrast against the backdrop of a growing pile of flood debris. Ironic.


Mosaic as an art form features creative use of contrast displayed in intriguing arrays of shape, color and texture. Study a piece close up. At this range, one’s perspective is limited to individual fragments of colored glass, tile and a variety of other found treasures. From this angle the only thing this odd assortment seems to have in common is a random shatteredness.


Behold the surprise and delight, though, after taking a few steps back and discovering the image created from the meticulous placement of each tiny, diverse element!


And a certain realization dawns.


There is a deep symbolism contained within the images that emerge from those contrasting colors and textures.


Mosaic finds beauty in found objects – smashed and discarded.
Mosaic requires the genius of an artist, willing to take time and care to form a unique and whole masterpiece from random broken pieces.
Mosaic is most masterful the more diverse and intricately woven the individual elements.

Mosaic sounds a lot like us.


As we strive to come together as artists who follow Christ and care for each other and our community, we form a living Mosaic. We are individual people from various colored and broken backgrounds and who practice many different art forms. Yet in the Mind of the Divine Artist, we are made into one masterpiece, the Church.


“God is building a home. He’s using us all - irrespective of how we got here – in what he is building. He used the apostles and prophets for the foundation. Now he’s using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together. We see it taking shape day after day – a holy temple built by God, all of us built into it, a temple in which God is quite at home.” Ephesians 2:19, The Message


In some mystical and Christ-saturated way, God places the broken up and diverse pieces that our individual lives represent and forms a unified community. When looked at from the right perspective, this image reflects the imago dei – God Himself.


Sheer genius. Sheer grace.


The purpose of the 2007 Art Show on Main is to celebrate artistic diversity as a unified community in the following ways:


diverse gifts unified in one Body“Each one brings their irreplaceable individuality to make life a pattern of diversity with a pursuit of unity.” Ravi Zacharias


“A body is made up of many parts, and each of them has its own use. That's how it is with us. There are many of us, but we each are part of the body of Christ, as well as part of one another. God has also given each of us different gifts to use…” Romans 12:4-6, Contemporary English Version
Whether someone participates in the Art Show on Main 2007 by showing art or performing art or by helping to prepare for the events or by attending the events and enjoying the art, the whole Body is blessed.


Additionally, in recognition of the fact that Christ’s Church extends beyond the walls here at Union Center and has grown in unity through recent events in the Greater Binghamton area, we invite artists from area churches to submit work to our Visual Arts show.


diverse media unified in one art show
Visual Arts: painting, drawing, photography, sculpture, textiles, mixed media, etc.


“In Exodus 28:31-35, a passage describing the priest’s garments, we find pattern, color and sound all working together. As Francis Schaeffer once observed ‘The making of the Tabernacle involved almost every form of representational art known to humanity. But because God is also the god of creative imagination, of metaphor and symbol, of parable and analogy, the design of the Tabernacle, and later of the Temple, was packed with symbolism. The design and placement of furnishings and vessels, the use of different materials such as linen, goatskins, silver, brass, gold, acacia wood, and the ceremonies prescribed for the worship of God in these sacred precincts, the system of sacrifices and oblations, all had meaning beyond themselves.’ This is the essence of the sacramental – that material things remind us of and point us to the things we cannot see but which have ultimate and eternal reality.” Luci Shaw, essay in The Christian Imagination
Performing Arts: vocal, instrumental, spoken word, theatre, dance, film presented in either original or classical works


“Hallelujah! Praise God in his holy house of worship, praise him under the open skies; Praise him for his acts of power, praise him for his magnificent greatness; Praise with a blast on the trumpet, praise by strumming soft strings; Praise him with castanets and dance, praise him with banjo and flute; Praise him with cymbals and a big bass drum, praise him with fiddles and mandolin. Let every living, breathing creature praise God! Hallelujah!” Psalm 150, The Message
diverse eras unified in one history“Believing Christians in the arts tend to become discouraged…When discouragement sets in, we should remind ourselves that the Church is a living church. For the believing, practicing Christian or Jew, there is no eternal death, only life in the present and life in the future. C.S. Lewis, Bach, Rembrandt, Leonardo da Vinci and King Oliver (of New Orleans jazz fame) are not dead but alive and well in the cloud of witnesses.
Because of the arts, we are not limited exclusively to our present period of history. We can stand in the Florence of Dante and Vasari. We can listen to the music of Scarlatti. We can read the words of Homer or Winston Churchill. We can listen to the music of Mahalia Jackson. We can live, through the arts and humanities, in all time at once…” Franky Schaeffer, Sham Pearls For Real Swine
Classical Works: from the classical repertoire (Renaissance through the 20th century)
“The Jewish-Christian West has produced unrivaled glories in the field of music… Certainly there are serious Christians engaged in making good contemporary music, but those who limit themselves to contemporary popular ‘Christian music’ seem to be unaware that the horizons are so much broader.” Franky Schaeffer, Sham Pearls For Real Swine
Original Works: lyric, composition, poem, essay, choreography, film, theatrical scene, etc. performed by the original author
“Spring is, of course, not really less beautiful because we have seen or heard of other like events, never from world’s beginning to world’s end the same event. Each leaf, of oak and ash and thorn, is a unique embodiment of the pattern and for some this very year may be the embodiment, the first ever seen and recognized, though oaks have put forth leaves for countless generations of men. We do not, or need not, despair of drawing because all lines must be either curved or straight, nor of painting because there are only three primary colours. We may indeed be older now, in so far as we are heirs in enjoyment or in practice of many generations of ancestors in the arts.
In this inheritance of wealth there may be a danger of boredom or of anxiety to be original…
Recovery (which includes return and renewal of health) is a re-gaining – re-gaining of a clear view. I do not say, ‘seeing things as they are’…though I might venture to say ‘seeing things as we are’ (or were)’meant to see them’ – as things apart from ourselves. We need in any case, to clean our windows; so that the things seen clearly may be freed from the drab blur of triteness or familiarity – from possessiveness.” J.R.R. Tolkien, Tree and Leaf
“Good people, cheer God! Right-living people sound best when praising. Use guitars to reinforce your ‘Hallelujahs!’ Play his praise on a grand piano! Invent your own new song to him; give him a trumpet fanfare.” Psalm 33:1-3, The Message




A CALL FOR ENTRIES


Dear Artist,
We are bursting with anticipation at what God will bring together through the Art Show on Main 2007. The Art Show leaders have been working and praying for many months over the very best way to cultivate beauty and community through the arts at this event. During these months we have felt strongly that this is the year to introduce a few new aspects.


The first addition is the introduction of the performing arts to the event. Secondly, as a result of the joy of working together for the Franklin Graham festival and other recent events in our community, we are inviting artists from area churches to participate in the visual arts portion of the show. And thirdly, we are excited to provide an opportunity for children to enjoy the experience of making and displaying their own art during this weekend.


For our visual artists, although you are welcome to, we are not requiring you to create a literal mosaic. The art show itself – each one bringing their irreplaceable individuality to make a pattern of diversity with the pursuit of unity (Zacharias) – will display the theme in bold and living color. To further enhance the theme for this year, an interactive mosaic piece will be prominently displayed in Main Street and anyone who attends will be able to have a part in creating the work. Once the Art Show on Main is concluded, the mosaic will be donated to an organization that would benefit from a piece of original artwork.


We can’t wait to start receiving submissions (see enclosed entry forms for both performing and visual art). As you prepare for the show, we invite you to pray over this theme, Mosaic. Study the word from different angles, holding your personal ideas and experiences up to the light of Scripture. Meditate on the patterns that the Holy Spirit creates from the assortment of pieces you place before Him. Get on http://www.biblegateway.com/ and do a word search (possible word choices -- unity, diversity, broken, whole)…see how God treats this concept in the Scriptures. Talk to a friend, explore a new medium, and look through your portfolio or repertoire in a fresh way.


Above all, as you prepare your submissions, we encourage you to speak truth through your art. Avoid the temptation to draw and paint and sculpt ‘Christian’ or ‘churchy’. Jesus became man and walked through the stuff of earth without ever losing His deity. In the same way, He is able to take the stuff of your artwork and reveal Himself through it.


We are praying for you. We are asking God to encourage us and guide us and protect us as we take this risk of revealing the imago dei individually and collectively. Most of all, we are asking Him to bring great fame to His name through our obedience and vulnerability.


Ever your biggest fans,


Tami Murphy, Director of Creative Arts at Union Center Christian Church

Wendy Westcott, Art Show on Main 2007 Event Coordinator

I am in love!!

OK -- while I've been chained to my desk all week finishing the Prospectus and Entry forms for this year's art show I have discovered the MOST AWESOME MUSIC ONLINE EXPERIENCE!!

you say you want to fall in love, too?

go to pandora.com
type in the name of a favorite artist or song
listen to your very own customized radio station
FOR FREE!

(i've already created a 'john mayer' station, 'jack johnson' station, 'corinne bailey rae' station, 'duran duran' station, 'phil collins' station, 'U2' station and 'over the rhine' station...i've been at my desk a lot this week!)

tell me what stations you create....

look who we found in Wrightsville Beach!!

lessons from camping, part two

I have been pondering for quite some time now the purpose and place for songwriting. I am not a songwriter. I'm not even a song-player (unless my Nano counts as my instrument!) But I am privileged to have many friends who are song-players -- on a variety of instruments with a variety of skill-levels. As far as I know only a few have ever confessed to being a song-writer -- and none of them would probably even use that term, "song-writer". I imagine they'd say that sounds too official.

But I've been pondering. The following topics have been rolling around in my brain for several months now: God's insistent commands to 'sing a new song'; the artistic mediocrity of contemporary christian music; the musical skills of so many of my friends; our church's love/hate relationship with new music; why so few people play the banjo?? Well, that last question isn't really related to this topic, but I have considered bribing a few of the guitar players I know to get really good at playing the banjo!

So -- here's the dilemma. God commands us to sing a new song (not necessarily to write a new song) but, in broad and general terms, the church drags its heels to sing new songs and, in broad and only-slightly general terms, contemporary christian music is not doing a great job of writing new songs (meaning there is a difference between a new title and a truly 'new' song).

So, while we were sitting around the campfire the other night, soaking up the intimacy of the crackling fire and the quiet storytelling underneath a starry and expansive sky, my friend Scott wrote a new song. I don't mean he got out a pen and paper and a rhyming dictionary. I mean he started playing a tune and singing lyrics that had never been sung or played before in that same composition in the history of the universe. I wish I could remember the tune and the lyrics -- all I can remember was that it was a simple, cozy poem of gratitude for a happy day with good friends.

And if I could have recorded it I would have. But not because I think it was worth a million dollars and would go to the top of the charts. (although that may have happened...my friend Scott is pretty good)

The impact of the song was deep because it recorded the moment we were experiencing together. It translated what all of us were thinking and feeling into a tune and a rhyme. It was an utterance of words that we could not express fully, but the song came pretty darn close. It was a creative response to our glad Creator.

So, I'm still pondering the questions about song-writing and the church and God's almost-nagging command to worship Him with new stuff. In some ways this experience under the stars is not an answer to the questions, but something more to add to the mix. I am wondering, though, if the local church had more brave musicians who were willing to live in the intimacy of the Body and translate some of the joint experiences into melody and lyric and had fewer musicians looking for the perfect formula or 'hook' to get the song sold, might the Church embrace the new song instead of feel threatened by it?? And, if that were to happen more and more often, might the contemporary christian pop culture stop being addicted to the artistic mediocrity that is sold as 'worship'?

Don't get me wrong. I believe there are those who are anointed to write music for the global Church. Some wrote hymns centuries ago, some wrote choruses last year and some wrote psalms millenia ago. But, I think the number of those musicians are far fewer than the neighborhood christian bookstore would have me believe. I'm beginning to think that just as all addiction is connected to a counterfeit of a true, beautiful, good gift from God, so is our somewhat blind-allegiance to the christian music celebrity. We are actually craving the new song that God commanded us to sing.

Artists in the local church, would you be brave enough to help us translate our gratitude into a new song to our Father so that we can stop searching for the perfect song on the latest recordings?? Your church needs you. Your Father desires you.

I believe I'm getting somewhere in this pondering. And it came to me in a campfire song.

lessons from camping

Some of you already know that I have a love/hate relationship with camping. I LOVE certain parts of the experience: telling stories and singing songs around a crackling camp fire; looking at a sky full of bright stars; listening to outside noises from inside a dry and warm sleeping bag, etc. I HATE other parts of the experience: the hassle of setting up and tearing down 'camp'; the inevitable soggy and muddy clothes; the smell of stale, wet ashes the morning after a camp fire; and two more words CAMP BATHROOMS!

Our family joined dear friends earlier this week. Overall, it was a wonderful experience. I am married to a man who idealizes camping and looks for ways to improve his efficiency and preparedness each time we go out. This works out well for me as I am not left with all the dirty work of packing, cooking, cleaning and unpacking. I'm actually quite spoiled. We did have to tear down in the cold rain on July 4, but the days prior were IDEAL camp days.

And, despite the fact I've been dragging my heels on us becoming a 'camping family', God met me this week. Thought I'd share a portion of my journal:

A MOMENT OF WORSHIP
Reading on a comfy lounge chair -- listening through the trees to my 13-year-old son picking out the chords and melody to "O Worship the King" on Scott's camp guitar.
One of my favorite parts of this new adventure of camping is listening to the mix of happy sounds all around us. I feel like I'm watching one of those edited music montages as people pass by our site and I hear snatches of activity and conversation.
While I was reading, a mom and her small son rode by on bikes. The mom on her tall 10-speed and her son - blond hair poking out beneath helmet, sandaled feet pedaling quickly to pace with his parent. It was a fun picture -- the kind of snapshot that would look great on a camp brochure with the caption "ENJOY QUALITY TIME WITH YOUR FAMILY" underneath.
What really caught my attention, though, was the snatch of conversation I overheard between the bikers. The tone of voice made it clear that Mom was telling a story to her son and it was clear that the story had been told before, "Yep, you were born there, but then we moved to..." and they were gone.
Although, son ws intently focused on the stony road in front of him, there was something about his posture that told me that he LOVED this story. Something about his squared shoulders and lifted head told me this -- even though my view of him lasted only a few seconds.
How obvious it is that we are wired to LOVE Story -- to receive affirmation through the telling -- and re-telling-- of Story. To communicate worth and value in the Telling - and Rehearsing - of Story.
Later, the two bikers 'scrolled by my screen' again. Same postures. Except this time, blonde-haired son was clearly leading mom. He was in front and had the half-sit, half-stand stance of someone who is loving the ride. He was also the one talking. Mom was listening intently as they steered precariously around rocks and bumps in the road. I didn't catch the exact string of words, but it was something the boy had recently experienced with friends.
And in that montage of the 2 scenes between mother and son, God gave me a beautiful illustration of prayer. The conversation happening between mother and son as they played together. Parent telling stories of history and truth and affirmation. Son sharing the current details of his life. Both going the same direction and enjoying each other's company.
I had to stop everything to take it all in - the beauty and truth of this moment of worship to my Father God.
Thank you, God. This is so good.

words for artists in the church from McClaren and Miller

just passing more tidbits along from the Willow Creek Arts Conference....

[from Brian McClaren's bio]
What is one thing you would say to artists and leaders who are just starting out in ministry?
Your idealism is a precious gift, but it can also become a kind of weapon turned either on yourself or others when you or they fall short of your high ideals. So keep your ideals high, but keep your sense of grace and compassion high too.

What is one thing you would say to artists and leaders who have been involved in ministry a long time?
The need to make a living can turn us into 'entertainers' instead of prophetic leaders. So be sure you're taking a risk and resisting the pressure of the religious subculture to provide it with more 'products and propaganda' masquerading as art.

[from Donald Miller's bio]
What is one thing you would say to artists and leaders who are just starting out?
I think artists and leaders both, who are working in evangelical culture, would do well to establish community outside of Christian community. This will round out their perspective so they have something to offer evangelical culture. This is not so difficult. A part-time job at a bookstore, starting a book club, cooking club or joining a neighborhood association are all ways to connect with people outside your church.

What is one thing you would say to artists and leaders who have been involved in ministry a long time?
I could only offer the same answer as the previous question, that is...to broaden our perspectives by broadening the kinds of stimulation we receive as artists.

remembering a year ago...

I woke up this morning about 6:30. As I was pouring water into the coffee pot I caught myself listening outside the kitchen window for air boats. When I let the dog out to pee I caught myself peeking around the edge of the door to see if there was standing water in the road.

I'm happy to say that everything in Conklin is fine. The rain storm we got last night (which was quite an eerie feeling!) brought much needed liquid to the brown and sluggish river that runs through our town.

I was talking with a neighbor friend a couple of weeks ago. She and her husband had to wade out of their house a year ago this morning. Her husband then got into his kayak and rowed down theslightly-sloping hill toward the end of their street to wake up some friends who were completely unaware that they were getting trapped by muddy, churling floodwaters. Then she and her husband spent the next couple of months clearing out the soggy remains of their basement and reconstructing it. When we were talking she said, "I'll be glad when the anniversary is past. Something about the year being over with will be encouraging to us."

I remember feeling the same way after our house fire. We marked the one year anniversary of the fire -- which happened on a New Year's Eve -- with a huge celebration. We must have had more than 50 people (including at least 20 or 30 small children!) crammed into our house to celebrate.

So, Brian and I decided to have a backyard picnic for our neighbors. I borrowed one of the most poignant flood photos our friend Stephanie took. And I borrowed the theme from the Willow Arts conference I just attended to create a beautiful picnic invitation to hand out to the neighbors.

And, even though Brian and I have been accused by a couple of people at our church for not paying enough attention to their families during the flood, we still have zillions of amazing memories of working together with our church family to help our neighborhood families to muck out and get back into their homes. Those memories are extremely precious to Brian, me and our kids. God allowed us to love our neighbors while wearing ridiculous looking boots and sweaty blue T-shirts. So, if you happen to be near Conklin this Saturday at 4 and want to stop by our picnic, we'd love to have you join us in our dry and safe neighborhood!

more on the Arts Conference

Check out this post from Nancy Beach. She is commenting here on what was, to me, the most powerful session of the Willow Creek Arts Conference.

After you read the post/comments, I'd love to know your thoughts...

ps. make sure you read the Rev! magazine article link, too!

Happy Birthday to Brian!

Click to play Make your own Smilebox

Diary of a Woman in Need of a Road Trip!

8:55 Monday morning, 6/11/07:
I catch up on emails after a full weekend of Franklin Graham Festival activity. I see an email from Willow Creek stating that Sally Morganthalar will be a late-addition to one of the mainstage sessions of their annual Arts Conference. (Morganthalar is the author of Worship Evangelism, on Pastor John's recommended reading list) The conference begins in two days.

8:56: I have a fleeting thought that I would like to hop into the Blazer, crank up my iPod and drive to Chicago for the Arts Conference.

8:56:30: I realize this is one of the dumbest ideas I've ever had. I can barely stand the arts anyway and have been thinking about quitting this job I have at church because even though it's the best job I could hope for, I'm tired of all the work and conflict and discouragement anyway. Besides, if I worked retail at least i'd get a product discount!

8:56:39: I tell Brian my ridiculous idea. He does not think it is ridiculous. I begin to wonder if I should actually do it.

9am - 10am: I browse area hotels for a room. It begins to appear that there is no room in the inn, any inn, anywhere in all of Chicagoland. I remind myself the idea was ridiculous anyway. I remind myself that a mother of four with no money and no hotel room does not plan to go on a roadtrip by herself 13 hours away (if Cleveland and Chicago roads have any mercy at all). I email the owner of a Bed and Breakfast 11 miles away from Willow Creek.

10:30am: The owner calls me. She does have a room available. She graciously agrees to 'pencil me in'. I try to act like I am a sane woman and that the reason I am looking for a room at the last minute is that my important schedule just miraculously opened up and I am able to just flit out to Chicago on a whim. "I have a few other details to look into, but I will confirm the reservation with you by the end of the day" She does not need to know that the details include the fact that I have $0 in my wallet and 4 children who need care for the next 5 days and a husband to convince and a vehicle that is only questionably road worthy.

I go on with the rest of the day as if the idea were ridiculous and not worth thinking on any longer.

6:00pm: Brian and I attend two simultaneous softball games (it's tricky, let me tell you!) played by our 11-year-old and 9-year-old daughters. I had tucked the schedule of the Arts Conference into the paperback I'd brought along to read during the innings-that-never-end. I casually bring up the fact that isn't-it-funny-that-if-I-were-to-attend-the-conference-i'd-have-to-leave-in-about-12 hours! tee hee. Brian says, "Oh, the conference is this week??" And then, God forever bless this beautiful man, he begins making phone calls and working the numbers. I call my mom about money she's given me to pursue this passion. Previously, she'd let me know that she wanted to give me money for something like this, but just needed some advance notice. I ask her if 12 hours is enough notice??

8:30pm: I call the B&B owner and tell her that all the pressing details have been arranged (as if they included things like moving important meetings and arranging for a dog sitter) and that I'll take that room she has and will see her tomorrow night. She has to ask several times what flight I'll be arriving on before she realizes I'm actually going to drive. She asks me how I like my coffee.

more of my diary in next post...

To God Be the Glory

sing it with me now, friends!

To God be the glory, great things he hath done!
So loved he the world that he gave us his Son,
who yielded his life an atonement for sin,
and opened the lifegate that all may go in.
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, let the earth hear his voice!
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, let the people rejoice!
O come to the Father thru Jesus the Son,
and give him the glory, great things he hath done!

It is an amazing time to live in the Greater Binghamton area right now.
And, I believe, the best is yet to come.

I agree with Z's post -- it was so FUN to see and hear about all the exploits of my friends and family this week as they served our community. Way to Go!

great story!

Check this story out!
Look here also.


And, don't miss the story of the boulder and the fire.
And what Spielberg had to say.

my new favorite band

OK, I'm shamelessly bragging -- so sue me! Dot Rama is my new favorite band (I happen to have given birth to two of the members so, yes, I am biased)
Check out their newly recorded music

grief

Death is a violent visitor.

We've seen its aggressive behavior in the movies and far-away, foreign places like Virginia Tech.

Yesterday I saw death in a passive-aggressive disguise. I'm wondering which is the more evil.

All day I sat on the sidelines of this contest between breathing and not breathing, pain and medicated calm, consciousness and incohorence. The dying man was not the only player in this match. The family, too, veered between tears and laughter, polite conversation and grieving embrace, anger and love. And what I saw left no doubt that death is an evil visitor in any state.

"This is not how its supposed to be!"

I wanted to shout that into the hospital hallway and into the face of the tottering, placating priest.

People aren't supposed to die in this indignity of scrambled speech and ugly gowns that don't cover the bruised flesh.

Hospitals are abusive to my senses anyway. There is not one single beautiful thing to look at when you are trying not to notice the scars and nakedness of the sick and dying. There is not one lovely aroma to cover the furious battle between industrial disinfectant and the atrophy of bodily function. The only sounds that attempt to mask the groaning and babbling of illness and death come out as perfunctory -- anochronistic attempts at masking the fact that suffering exists and is waiting for each one of us.

"This is not how it's supposed to be!"

I wanted to whisper into the ears of each of the grown-up children who stood by the bedside of a man whom their intellect instructed them to love and their experience scoffed that was a fool's errand.

When a son holds his dying father's hand he is supposed to be washed in memories of playing catch and throwing out fishing line and getting homework signed. He is supposed to be able to remember the firm grip of those hands telling the boy he is a man at important events like graduation and marriage and the birth of his own children.

When a son holds down the flailing, bruised arm of his dying father he is supposed to be able to remember times those arms were muscled and warm in late-night lifts into bed and early Saturday -morning pancake flipping. He is supposed to be able to remember those arms bulging under the weight of vacation-packed-suitcases and wood for the backyard bonfire. He is supposed to recall a crushing embrace after injury or discipline.

When a daughter lifts the head of her dying father and arranges his pillow and smooths the blankets that he has kicked off in a fit of painful agitation, she is supposed to recall the times that he did the same for her when she was 5 and he was singing her to sleep and when she was 10 and had a nightmare and when she was 15 and was sleepless in hormonal angst.

When children of a dying man gather around his bed to comfort him and say good-bye they are supposed to be able to remember all of the similar words of comfort and care and guidance and blessing and love that he had spoken to them hundreds of times. They are supposed to be able to reflect his life back to him. To return to him what he has invested in the sweat and blood and prayer and love for them and their mother over a lifetime. Thy are not supposed to have to look at each other and wonder if it is OK to cry...wonder if they are doing this -- this being sons and daughter to a dying man -- right.

"This is not how it's supposed to be."

I did not have the privilege to speak it yesterday as I watched death steal life-giving oxygen from a man. I say it to my husband's true Father now.

"Thank you for being a father to the fatherless. Thank you for sparing the sins of the father on his children and his children's children. Thank you for giving him a taste of how it is supposed to be. Please show him how to grieve now."

having one of those days??

Every once in awhile I see a piece of art that I want to share with all of you!! I love the title, "Can I Get Some Help Here?" Hope you are having a much better day than this fellow!

(click here to see more of this artist's work)

a laugh on Mother's Day...

You've gotta read my friend, Irrationallove's post from Mother's Day...

TGIF!

My dictionary.com word for the day happens to be one of my all-time favorite words ever...

denouement \day-noo-MAWN\, noun:
1. The final resolution of the main complication of a literary or dramatic work.
2. The outcome of a complex sequence of events

I am very thankful it is Friday. I am thankful the sun is shining. I am thankful for a crammed-full week of walking in community, working hard, learning lots, caring for family and growing up in Christ. Boy, am I pooped! The denouement for this complex sequence of events includes a good book, an ice-cold glass of water and the back deck.

he had me at hello!

I'm a little speechless from my guest blogger (see previous post)! Maybe we should all take a few days to read and re-read that post -- and to meditate deeply on its meaning....

Livingpalm's Blog

I am lovingly, I'm sure, referred to in this blog as B -- LP's husband.

I have been very lax about keeping up with her blog even though she is the most important thing on earth to me. So, imagine my surprise when I looked it up tonight and found that her last post was about me and my speaking engagement at BU. (I join LP, by the way, THANK YOU for praying for me.)

I do not share the same passion for blogging as many of you do, but I do have a passion for Livingpalm and her life. Many of you have gotten to know her more personally through these postings, and I suspect you are beginning to realize, as I have always known, that LP is amazingly complex and wonderfully profound all at the same time. She is... well here is the reason that I do not blog on a regular basis... words fail me.

Let me explain. Yesterday I dropped her off at her hairdressers and then went on to run some errands. These errands were somewhat mindless, but I did have to mix in a couple of work- related stops as well. When I am alone in the car completing mundane tasks my mind often wanders to more stressful things -- finances, conflicts, and future plans.

When I returned to the hairdressers my wife looked more beautiful than when I dropped her off -- which I am sure is how it is supposed to work, but is hard for me to believe since she was unbelievably beautiful when I dropped her off. She turned in the chair to face me and she took my breath away. She was gorgeous!

And I said... "Do you think that you can keep your hair that way, Tam?"

Yeah, that was it... "Can you keep it that way?"

Therefore, I thought I would use one of the few times I have ever posted to a blog to go back in time and say exactly what I think of Livingpalm.

You are the most beautiful woman I know.
I know I am not the easiest guy to live with. Thank you for putting up with me. Because of you, I am where I am today.
I love your creativity, even though I do not always understand it.
I love the way you process things. You are far deeper in the way you approach life than I will ever be. It has made me a better man.
I appreciate your compassion for people.
I enjoy watching your mercy and personality demonstrated in our children. They are creative, real, and smart because of you. You are a great mom.
You are sexy.
You are confident.
You are a leader.
You are strong.
You are gentle.
You care deeply about your and my relationship with The Creator.

Here is what I learned yesterday. They say that life happens when you're making other plans. It's true, but I will be careful to acknowledge the wonderful things that God has placed in my life -- starting with my Livingpalm (and her blog).

B