Thankful: For People Who Dare to Share

Love the Lord your God with all your heart 

and with all your soul and with all your strength 

and with all your mind'; 

and, Love your neighbor as yourself.

Luke 10:27

A heart filled with love, compassion and kindness is a heart that wants to share.  So much of modern life aspires to gather to one's self, rather than giving out to others.  In my area of livelihood, however, giving to others is part and parcel of the gig.  Music is meant to be shared, to be savored, to be experienced - not hoarded for a singular enjoyment.

I am fascinated by flash mobs - people who secretly gather together in a public forum and measure by measure build a musical presentation for any and all who are within earshot.  Mall are a favorite place, as well as parks and city squares.  In Copenhagen, Denmark, however, one enterprising professional group decided to flash mob the subway, with delightful results.  Relax and enjoy the Copenhagen Philharmonic present Morning from the Peer Gynt Suite.

  

Thankful: That My Brain is Still in Working Order

Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus...

Philippians 2:5

 

A couple of years ago, my daughter introduced me to lumosity.com, a website for training your brain - or, in my case, keeping your brain active and alive.  Lumosity has a whole raft of games for speed,  vocabulary, short-term memory, and many other components.  I really enjoyed many of the games, especially Word Bubbles Rising - a timed game that calls on your word memory bank.  I would try to link into Lumosity every day, or at least several times a week.  Then the website decided they needed to crank up the charges for playing their nifty brain games, and the $79.99 price tag knocked me out of the ring.

To prevent the grey matter from getting rusty, I now turn to brainbashers.com for my daily mental stimulation.  Brainbashers has logic games aplenty, puzzles, Japanese word and number puzzles, crosswords, fill-in's, and every other conceivable puzzle you might think of.  I start my Internet day with the daily jigsaw puzzle (48-piece classic cut), then move on to Japanese nonogrids - my favorite numbers game.  I have to be careful - I could literally waste half a day doing this stuff.  But my brain gets its morning exercise, and my memory gets a little practice.

Doctors believe that brain stimulation staves off Alzheimers.  In a recent study by the University of California-Berkeley, brains scans revealed that  ...people with no symptoms of Alzheimer’s who engaged in cognitively stimulating activities throughout their lives had fewer deposits of beta-amyloid, a destructive protein that is the hallmark of the disease [UC Berkeley New Center].  If reading, writing and playing games can help to prevent dementia in later life, I am happy to make Brainbashers a daily morning habit.

Thankful: For Students to Keep Me Young

Is any one of you in trouble?  He should pray.

Is anyone happy?  Let them sing songs of praise.

James 5:13

 

I have been teaching voice in a local high school Arts Specialty Center for the last five years.  Each year I have two classes, the incoming freshmen, and the second-year sophomore vocalists.  My usual student count per class is 8-9 singers - a lot of people to instruct in only an hour and a half.  But this year my freshman class has 11 kids - ten girls and one guy.  I have approximately 6 minutes per class for each student, so I have to be creative in order to teach them anything at all.

This nine weeks, we are studying the wonderful world of Spirituals in the form of duets.  The ten girls are paired up into five duets, and the fellow is singing a duet with me.  Studying African-American spirituals is a wonderful lesson in handed-down music, jazz, blues, slavery, and the creative genius of an oppressed people.  Last week we began to listen to artists who specialize in spirituals.  Foremost in that contemporary group would be sopranos Jessye Norman and Kathleen Battle.  The clip below was taken during a concert of spirituals at Carnegie Hall in 1990.  It is a spectacular example of a little-known song and two fabulous singers.  Enjoy!

 

Thankful: For Good, Clean Entertainment

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, 

whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, 

whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--

think about such things.

Philippians 4:8
 

There is precious little on television these days that would fit into any of the categories laid out by Paul in our verse from Philippians. My favorite show on TV is NCIS (mostly because they do not show the actual crime, just the results and then the excellent field work), and I love Downton Abbey (which is full of all types of naughty goings-on that are neither lovely nor pure).  I like to watch Family Feud, Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy, but once in a while I want to see a really good sleuth, and I find that the cleaner ones are usually on PBS.

I love Masterpiece Mystery, specifically Inspector Lewis and his sidekick, Sergeant Hathaway. But my current favorite is an Italian series with English subtitles, entitled Don Matteo.  The series stars Terrence Hill (born Mario Girotti) as a parish priest with a spectacular talent for investigating crimes.  He is a constant thorn in the side of Marshall Cecchini and Capitan Anceschi from the start of every investigation.  Father Matteo is a unique character as a sleuth, for his insights are due as much to his instincts as to his faith in God.  He is a wily crimefighter as well as a figure of forgiveness and redemption.  He fights to obtain justice but cannot turn away from a soul.  Even though I don't understand a word of Italian and have to get my plot lines from the subtitles, Father Matteo's face tells as much of the story as the printed word.  He is insightful, thoughtful, and really cares about people, and that is a rare commodity in the world of TV characters today.

Thankful: For Beautiful Music!

Praise the Lord!

Sing to the Lord a new song,

His praise in the assembly of the saints.

Let them praise His name with dancing,

and make music to Him with tambourine and harp.

Psalm 149:1,3

My life, from the cradle to the present, has been drenched in music.  I have played the piano, the violin, the tympani, percussion, handbells, and the organ, alone and in ensembles, groups, bands and orchestras.  Music is both my passion and my vocation.  I teach music, I work in church music, and I relax with music.

I came across this video this week, and thought I would share it with you.  In Som Sabadell, Spain, Banco Sabadell celebrated its 130th anniversary by treating the locals and tourists to a surprise "flashmob" performance of Beethovan's Ode to Joy by the Orquestra Simfonica del Valles.    Enjoy.

Thankful: For a Healthy Back

Jesus went throughout Galilee,

teaching in their synagogues, preaching

the good news of the kingdom, and healing

every disease and sickness among the people.

Matthew 4:23

Years ago, when I was living in Indiana, I pinched the sciatic nerve in my back, with very painful results.  As luck would have it, my husband did almost the exact same thing at work, leaving us both crippled and hurting.  He went to see a local orthopedic doctor.  After the examination, the doctor handed my husband a book - Pain Free by Pete Egoscue.  "Do the exercises in this book before we try anything else," he said.  My husband was quite put out - he didn't want to do exercises; he wanted a shot, which he eventually received.  I wanted no part of a long needle, so I took the book and did the exercises.  The results were amazing, and a copy of that book still has a special place on my bookshelf and on my reading list if my back starts to act up.

This morning while I was teaching, I got a text message from my daughter.  Her significant other's back had buckled while trying to lift a semi tire at work, he had fallen to the ground, and was in tremendous pain.  I went directly home after school to get him and take him to the Patient First clinic.  He, of course, did not want to go to the doctor.  I pulled out my trusty book and said, "O.K. Let's make a deal.  You read and do what this book says, and we'll delay going to the doctor for 24 hours or so."   While he did the exercises and submitted to heat/cold therapy, I went shopping for a back support brace to wear at work, and a badly-needed firm replacement mattress for the twin bed he sleeps on.  I would appreciate your prayers for him as he rests and rebuilds strength in his back.

At various times in my life, I have wished that Jesus were stilll here on earth, walking (riding?) from village to village, healing the people of "every disease and sickness."  Obviously that is not even a remote possibility.  Instead, God has given many people - doctors, therapists, and sports medicine folks like Mr. Egoscue, the gift of healing to pass on to us.  I cannot begin to count the number of times I have reached for my Pain Free book.  Do you have back or shoulder pain?  Knee, wrist or ankle pain?   This book covers almost any kind of skeletal pain and provides the directions and photographs for a variety of healing exercises.  I give it my highest recommendation.  

Thankful: For the Gift of Common Sense

...the corrections of discipline are the way to life,

keeping you from the immoral woman...

Proverbs 6:23b-24a

When my three girls were young, birthdays were a big deal in our house.  We were always church mouse poor during those years, but we tried to be creative and do the best we could on the cheap.  One year I had a joint party for my two girls whose birthdays are in December, and the collected guests and birthday girls had a wonderful time decorating gingerbread houses (made out of graham crackers).  One year I made a huge butterfly cake.  We had picnic birthdays, "at the park" birthdays, sleepover birthdays, and dress-up birthdays.  

As the girls got older, it became more of a challenge to think of something that would interest adolescents, and then teenagers.  I would look through magazines, talk to other mothers, and get the opinions of the birthday girl's siblings in order to come up with a celebration that they would enjoy.  I must say, though, that one thing I never thought of - not in my wildest imagination - was hiring Chippendale dancers to amuse the guests at my daughter's birthday party.  The thought would never have occured to me because such sexually explicit "entertainment" would be inappropriate for my own children, much less for their friends.

An upstate New York mother has been charged with five counts of endangering the welfare of a child after hiring adult strippers to perform at her son's 16th birthday party.  The parents of five boys who attended the party (some as young as fourteen) discovered pictures of the adult-rated party on their kids' Facebook pages.  Those parents took the photographs to the police, and the mother of the birthday boy was arrested. The district attorney who is prosecuting the case said,  "...exposing the unsuspecting children to this sort of entertainment goes beyond the pale when it comes to shat is appropriate for a 14, 15, and 16 year old child."  I couldn't agree more.

Raising children is a challenge - from babyhood to adulthood.  There is a great deal that the world would like to introduce to your children that we as parents try to delay until our kids have gained as much maturity as possible.  Providing your children with sexually explicit entertainment in your own home seems to indicate the lack of one parental element that is so necessary for guiding kids in today's world:  good old common sense.

Thankful: That Tomorrow is a New Beginning

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, 

for tomorrow will worry about itself. 

Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Matthew 6:34

 

I am in need of dropping a few pounds - twenty, to be exact.  The older you get, the easier it is to pack on weight, and the harder it is to lose it once you have packed it on!  I have several factors against me when it comes to the weight loss department:

• I am a grazer.  Most people eat three meals a day.  I nibble my way through.
• I don't ever feel full unless I eat a gargantuan amount of food all at once, such as at Thanksgiving
• I don't have a tremendous amount of will-power.  When it comes to food, I'm not sure I have any at all.
• I have a ton of food allergies and intolerances, which severely limit my food choices. 

A couple of weeks ago I decided that a diet was in order, and I planned out how many calories a day (sort of), what kinds of foods, etc., and tried to set a few rules:

•  Only eat at meal time
• Eat absolutely nothing that contains gluten 
•  Have a KIND bar as a snack and nothing else 
• Stop eating by 7:00 pm 
• Exercise DAILY except for Sunday mornings when I have to be at work EARLY

Suffice it to say that my rules have been broken many times over, except for the exercise rule.  I have had really great success with that, much to my surprise.  Today, sadly, all the rules melted down.  The KIND bar was consumed with a small mountain of potato chips, I ate most of the day, and was nibbling on fruitcake cookies well after 9:30 pm.  It is definitely one of those days when you feel like giving up completely because you are such a dismal failure.  Fortunately, giving up is simply not an option.

I am not writing this tonight for you, but for me.  I am the one that needs to remember that failures are forgiven, hope can be reborn, and tomorrow is a new beginning - a fresh chapter in the book of my life.  I'm going to get a good night's sleep, awaken primed for my exercise routine, and remind myself that I can do this - perhaps not one day at a time, but definitely one prayer at a time!

Thankful: That Life is Not a Story Line

Whoever of you loves life 

and desires to see many good days,

keep your tongue from evil

and your lips from speaking lies.

Turn from evil and do good;

Seek peace and pursue it.

Psalm 34:12-14

Downtonites - that's what devotees of the British television show, Downton Abbey, are called on Twitter and other social media.  Those of us who claim the title (yes indeed, you read it here!) are mildly to massively addicted to Mary and Matthew, Robert and Cora, Sybil and Tom, poor Edith, the magnificent Lady Violet Crawley, and the whole crew of downstairs fame.  I have followed Downton Abbey through all three seasons - laughing, wincing, crying, smirking, sobbing.  Some of the story lines are better than others, but all in all, it is an amazing drama - an gripping soap opera.

The writer of Downton Abbey, Julian Fellowes, has remarked that in any good soap opera, when everything is going well, something has to go wrong.  He is as good as his word, especially in Season 3.  Sybil and Tom are finally both out of Ireland and settled down at the Abbey?  Fine.  Let's have Sybil die following childbirth.  Mary and Matthew get together after two seasons of unbelievable ups and downs, cement a stable marriage and loving relationship, and produce the necessary heir.  But Dan Smith, the actor for the character of Matthew, is working on Broadway and wants a break from the series?  Fine.  Let's kill Matthew off just after he leaves the hospital where he holds his new-born son for the first time and his wife for the last time.  Really?  I mean, really??

Of course, life does mirror art in many ways.  I am grateful, however, that neither creative script writers nor stalled contract negotiations are setting the timeline for my life on this earth.  But there is a truth in Downton Abbey's travails that applies to all of us on this spinning planet:  in real life as well as in fiction, there are no guarantees.  Tomorrow is not promised to any of us.  We have today - this hour, this minute.  What will you do with the precious time you have this day?

Behold, now is the accepted time;

now is the day of salvation.

~ 2 Corinthians 6:2

Thankful: For Hope

Now these three remain:  Faith, Hope, Love

1 Corinthians 13:13

Mindy McCreedy, a beautiful and talented country singer, died on Sunday, a month after her record producer boyfriend died - in the exact same place (the front porch of their Arkansas home), and the same way (self-inflicted shotgun wound).  McCreedy was only 37 years old, and left behind two young sons.

Ms. McCreedy hit the big time back in the 1990's with a double platinum album providing several hit songs.  But years of substance abuse, jail time, and a bitter custody battle with her mother over her oldest son brought long periods of depression and despair.  There have been four previous suicide attempts and at least three trips to rehab.  She has spoken openly to reporters and talk show hosts about her demons of addiction and depression.  She kept hoping that she had "turned a corner."  But she never quite managed to do so.

My heart aches at the though of this vibrant woman coming to the place where hope for the future was non-existent.  As someone who has battled depression, my sympathy goes out to Ms. McCreedy's family - especially to her two sons.  The loss of a mother at a young age is a life-altering experience.  I hope and pray that there is strong family support for those two children.  

Hope is defined as ...the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.  Many people hope for a better day tomorrow, a better life in the future, a relief from physical or emotional pain at some point.  When there is never any upward movement - never any change in circumstances - never any measurable improvement in coping with everyday life, hope can begin to die.  And without expectation and hope, life ceases to be worth living.

I have many avenues of hope in my life.  Some are more realistic than others, but I refuse to count out the possibility, the expectation, the optimism, the faith.  God is still in control of this universe, and I base my trust, my hope, and my faith in Him.

Thankful: That I Don't Drink

Do not gaze at wine when it is red, when it sparkles in the cup, 

when it goes down smoothly!

In the end it bites like a snake and poisons like a viper.

Proverbs 23:31-32 

Alcohol has long been known and recognized

as a human carcinogen...

Dr. Timothy Naimi, Boston University Medical Center

I was browsing the Internet yesterday when an article on Yahoo.com caught my eye:  Even Moderate Drinking Linked to Increased Cancer Risk.  The opening paragraph pretty much said it all:

New research shows that even a single alcoholic drink per day

can increase your risk of developing certain types of cancer,

including breast cancer in women.  Though people have long

believed that a glass or two of wine can be good for your heart,

the new study, conducted in conjunction with researchers in

the U.S., Canada and France, shows that the cancer risks

far outweigh any heart-healthy benefits.

Although that paragraph was quite unexpected, given all the hype about red wine being good for your heart, what really stunned me was Dr. Naimi's statement calling alcohol a human carcinogen.  Although the good doctor states that this truth has "long been known," I can say unequivocally that I have never seen that fact in print before reading this article.  

The study found that approximately 6,000 breast cancer deaths each year (15% of the total) could be attributed to alcohol consumption.  Men's alcohol-related cancers tended to be in the mouth, throat or esophagus.  Alcohol is also linked to cancer of the liver, colon, and rectum.  Dr. Naimi finished the article with a classic understatement:  Alcohol is a big preventable cancer risk factor that has been hiding in plain sight.

Having passed the five year survival mark for uterine cancer, I try my best to avoid anything that is in the least carcinogenic - such as second-hand smoke.  I now have another cancer-causer to dodge.  Although I do not drink, for which I am truly thankful, I do occasionally use wine in cooking.  Those recipes will now be tossed in the recycling bin.  As Dr. Naimi said: It is important to recognize that when it comes to cancer, there's no free lunch.

 

Thankful: For Electricity and Plumbing!

 

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, 

be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.

-John Howard Payne

Friday is my day off from my church job.  Every other Friday I have to teach at the Specialty Center, however, so every other week I have a full day off - and today was such a day.  Not only was it my free day, but it was absolutely beautiful outside - reaching 61 degrees.  After running errands and getting groceries this morning, I settled down to some much-needed house cleaning - dusting, changing beds, vacuuming, and mopping.  As I cleaned the bathroom, I acknowledged with a chuckle how thankful I was to have spent this last week in my snug little home, rather than on a certain cruise ship in the Gulf of Mexico.

Last Sunday, the Carnival Triumph experienced an on-board fire, which knocked out all power and eventually a good deal of the plumbing.  Toilets stopped working, leaving 3,143 passengers and 1,086 crew with no place to go to the bathroom.  They used the sinks for awhile (I cannot imagine!), then utilized red plastic bags.  As the days went by, one passenger remarked that it was like living in a hot, smelly port-a-potty. Many of the passengers used rope and sheets to erect little tents on deck rather than live in their airless cabins with sewage pouring down the walls whenever the ship listed.

The cruiseliner was finally towed to Mobile, Alabama, where it took all evening and most of the night last night to remove the passengers and crew from the ship.  I can only imagine that the first thing most of them wanted was a clean bathroom and a hot shower.  Even though the cruise company is giving each passenger a full refund (and hopefully each crew member a bonus?), it may be a while before any of these vacationers decide to take another cruise!

Thankful: That Revenge is Not Mine

Never take your own revenge, beloved, 

but leave room for the wrath of God, 

for it is written, 

"VENGEANCE IS MINE, I WILL REPAY," says the Lord.

Romans 12:19

The news has been filled with headline after headline regarding Christopher Dorner, the former LAPD police officer who has been terrorizing Los Angeles police families and the population in general.  Dorner was fired from the LAPD five years ago.  He saw himself as a whistle-blower who was fired without cause; the Department saw him as a bad cop who lied about his partner.  Dorner was undoubtedly frustrated by his inability to clear his name, but he let that frustration turn into a deadly rage that blossomed into a thirst for revenge.  A police captain's daughter and her fiance, a Riverside police officer, and a San Bernadino Sherriff's deputy lost their lives during his murderous rampage.

My dad taught me that living above what others were saying - proving them wrong by my life and my character, was the best form of revenge.  Edwin Chapin once said, "Never does the human soul appear so strong as when it foregoes revenge and dares to forgive an injury."  Christopher Dorner may have been in the right or in the wrong over the issues that occurred five years ago when he was fired.  He may or may not have sought counseling to help him deal with his situation. There was still time to somehow find resolution and truth. But when he picked up a gun and began killing innocent people, he crossed a line from which there was no return. His quest for revenge finally came to an end in the smoking ruins of an empty cabin.

Revenge never quite turns out like we think it is going to.  It never wipes away the pain, or erases the injury from the mind.  It does not quench the fire of irritation at perceived injustice - it simply stokes the flames.  The old saying, Revenge is a dish best served cold" is incorrect.  Revenge is a dish best not served at all.

There is no revenge so sweet as forgiveness. 

~ Josh Billings

Thankful: For a Season of Thoughtfulness

They know nothing, they understand nothing;

their eyes are plastered over so they cannot see, 

and their minds are closed so they cannot understand.

No one stops to think...

Isaiah 44:18-19a

I was not raised in a church that followed the lectionary or the liturgical church calendar, so I knew nothing of the season of Lent, or of Ash Wednesday (the day after Fat Tuesday) that marks its beginning.  Palm Sunday? Easter?  I knew and understood them both.  But I did not become acquainted with Ash Wednesday and the Lenten traditions until I was hired (beginning at age 14) to be the organist for churches of other denominations.

Lent is a period of approximately six weeks calculated from Ash Wednesday until Easter.  Most churches do not count Sunday as part of Lent, and many denominations end Lent on either Maundy Thursday (in commemoration of Christ's arrest and trial), Good Friday (Jesus' death by crucifixion), or Easter Eve (Saturday evening when Jesus lay in the tomb).  For many denominations, Lent is a time of contemplation, prayer, repentence and self-denial.  Often individuals "give up" one of their favorite things during the time of Lent.  One of my good friends gives up chocolate every single year. 

I see great benefit in setting aside a period of time to spend in thoughtful contemplation of one's life (where you have been, where you are now, and where you hope to be in the future), prayer and an examination of character.  Ideally, this should happen on a daily basis, but most of us, ironically, don't have "time" for that.  Perhaps this year I should "give up" my hurried, driven pace and determine to start each day during Lent 2013 by stopping and thinking - about God, about life, about me.

Thankful: That People Prove Me Wrong

The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. 

Man looks at the outward appearance, 

but the LORD looks at the heart."

1 Samuel 16:7

Yesterday my daughter made a remark about my new next-door neighbor - a single man (from all appearances) somewhere in my age range.  I met him weeks ago on the day his house closed, and he seemed rather friendly and nice - good qualities in a neighbor.  Since that day, however, he has never acknowledged my presence when we are both outside at the same time.

I said to my daughter, "He has not turned out to be a very friendly sort."  "You're kidding," she said.  "He waves to me every time we are both in our backyards, and we've had a couple of good conversations."  "Well," that's good to hear," I replied, " because he does not wave or speak to me."  "Maybe he didn't see you," she said, "or was thinking about something else."  Whatever.

Ten minutes later, I walked out the front door to go to work.  Low and behold, who should be out in his yard but the neighbor.  He looked up, grinned, gave a big wave, yelled, "Hey, neighbor!" and started walking toward my house.  I almost laughed out loud!  Talk about making a liar out of me!  He told me all about the fence that a workman had put up and then taken right back down six days later (I had been dying of curiosity on that score).  He warned me that the place would be swarming with roofers in the next couple of days, then invited me to come inside and see what he and a hired workman were doing with the interior of the house (the previous owners and their huge pit bull had pretty much trashed the place).  It was in worse shape than I had imagined, and I do not envy him his "fixer-upper" project.

As I got into my car to drive to work, I chuckled - not at him, but at myself.  My view of the man that I expressed to my daughter was borne out of my own insecurities rather than anything that he did or did not do.  I need to shelve my useless assumptions and give the man a chance to be exactly what I hope he will be - a good neighbor.

Thankful: For No Auditions!

Sing to the Lord a new song...

Psalm 149:1

 

Of all the experiences that are part and parcel of being a musician, the one I hated the most?  Auditions! America has experienced years of auditions through television shows such as American Idol, X-Factor, America's Got Talent, Britain's Got Talent, and The Voice.  For the singer, there is nothing quite like the nerve-racking, heart-pounding sensation of having to "put yourself out there" in front of an audience of judges.  It can be quite difficult to do your best when you are scared to death.

This week I will be involved in the judging of auditions for the in-coming class of freshmen for the high school Performing Arts specialty center where I teach.  Their admittance or non-admittance hinges primarily on that audition.  They have had the music to practice since last November.  One would think they would know it backwards and forwards.  Of the 50-60 candidates we will hear, however, there will only be a handfull who are truly prepared.

As a private voice instructor, I have spent the last few months preparing high school seniors to sing their college auditions for music programs at universities across Virginia.  My heart goes out to these young people.  I received a telephone call today from a young woman who had a major audition this last weekend.  She wanted to fill me in on every little detail of the experience with the hope that I could somehow dissect all of it and come up with an indication of how she did in the judges eyes.  "They did not chitchat when I was finished.  Does that mean they didn't like me?"  "We were broken up into two groups after the audition.  I was in the downstairs group instead of the upstairs group.  What does that mean?" When there is so much riding on the outcome, you grasp at any straw. 

 

After that phone conversation, while waiting for my next audition-bound student to appear, I breathed a silent "Thank you," to no one in particular and every one in general, that I no longer have to sweat through that process.  When I sing now, I sing simply for the joy of it.  I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Thankful: For the Chance to Dream

Whatever your hand finds to do,

do it with your might...

Ecclesiastes 9:10

Tonight I was reading an interview in AARP the Magazine with Kenny Loggins - master musician and longtime rocker.  He was a star in his 20's, with a long string of hits (12 platinum albums).  Now, at age 64, you would think that he would be sitting back with his feet on the coffee table, taking it easy.  Instead, he has launched a new band - the Blue Sky Riders, who have just released their first album, Finally Home.

When asked what advice he had for other people his age, he said:

The head and heart are almost always in disagreement.

The head wants to play it safe;  the heart wants

to jump in.  I've taught my head to serve my heart,

so when I get a crazy intuitive idea, my brain's job

is to figure out how to achieve that goal,

not scare me off with reasons why it's impossible.

All dreams are impossible until proven otherwise.

Those words really struck home with me.  I am the queen of nay-sayers to my own ideas.  I have all kinds of things that I would love to put my hand to, but before my heart can really kick into gear, my head has unloaded all of the reasons why the idea won't work.  I am, in a word, my own chief "discourage-er."

The interviewer closed with this question:  "What's been your best moment in life so far?"  Mr. Loggins' answer is one that I want to carry with me as a motto for my life in 2013:

I like to think that the best times are yet to come.

By living in gratitude and believing in everyday miracles,

I stay open to magic in my life. 

Thankful: That God = Love.

 Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. 

For whoever does not love their brother and sister, 

whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.

1 John 4:20

 

Earlier this week, we received word from the Catholic Church (right next door to the church facility where I work) that they would be having a funeral this morning at 8:00 a.m. for a young man killed in Afghanistan, and had somehow received notification that the Westboro Baptist Church would be showing up to protest.  I have no idea why they thought that this was going to happen, but they took the threat of picketing very seriously.  Fortunately, their information was either incorrect or the WBC changed their mind, and the funeral took place without any picketings or protests.

The Westboro Baptist is a church from Topeka, Kansas, that has made it their mission to protest at funerals of both soldiers and homosexuals.  The church believes that God hates soldiers (Soldiers die - God laughs; Thank God for dead soldiers!) because of the policy of allowing gay men to serve their country.  They believe that God hates homosexuals (their website is www.godhatesfags.com).  They also believe that God hates Islam, the media, Jews, the world in general, and anyone else who does not agree with their ideas and beliefs.

 

During my childhood in Arizona, my little church class learned a song that has stayed in my mind all these years.  I thought of it again today when I saw a photograph of a young child from Westboro Baptist holding a sign dripping with hatred.  I'm quite sure that the members of the Westboro Baptist Church would have no interest in learning my song, but it might do them a world of good:

God is love - we're His little children.

God is love - we should be like Him.

`Tis love that makes us happy,

`Tis love that smooths the way.

It helps us mind,

It makes us kind to others every day.

Thankful: That I Live in the 21st Century

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body 

and knit me together in my mother's womb.

Psalm 139:13

I am fascinated by the history of the British crown, particularly the time of the Tudors in the 16th Century.  I have read non-fiction and historical novels of that period, and find the people and the customs enchanting.  You can understand my interest, therefore, in the news that Britain believes that skeletal remains found buried beneath an English carpark are those of King Richard III.

British scientists believe "beyond a reasonable doubt" that the skeleton found during an archaeological dig in Leicester, central England, last August is that of King Richard, who was killed at the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485.  Richard, of the house of York,  has long been a subject of scrutiny due to the events surrounding his ascension to the throne.  The disappearance of his two nephews from the Tower of London - the eldest of whom was awaiting his own coronation as king - has tainted Richard III's reputation and character throughout history.  I recently ordered Paul Murrray Kendall's biography, Richard III, and know that I will thoroughly enjoy perusing it.

Although I find this era endlessly fascinating, I can say with certainty that I would not have wanted to be a female living during that period of history.  There were very few women with any power or authority.  Most of them were housewives, without property or wealth of their own - everything being held in the hands of their husbands.  If, God forbid, you were the daughter of a man of political influence or royalty, you were not much more than a pawn on the chessboard of your father's push for position and influence.  I may enjoy reading English history, but I would not have wanted to live it.

How thankful I am that I live in an age when I can have a life and a career on my own, without the need for a husband or father to tell me what to do.  As I arrive home from a fulfilling day at work to my own warm and secure little bungalow, I am reminded yet again of the many blessings in my life.

Thankful: For a Father Who Waited for Me

Honor your father...

Exodus 20:12

A week ago today, one of the staff at the church where I work left to travel to her father's bedside in South Carolina.  He had not been doing well, and she felt compelled to make the trip for just a few days to see for herself how he was doing.  Two days after she arrived, he took a turn for the worse, hospice was called in, and the family gathered around the bedside to wait.  I texted her on Friday, letting her know that I was praying for her, and also that it was so wonderful that she was there with her dad, instead of frantically trying to get there.  Her father passed away on Saturday evening, peacefully and quietly, with the entire family gathered at his bedside.

In the summer of 2005, my father began to suffer from congestive heart failure.  I lived in the southeast and my parents lived in the southwest, but I made several trips out to visit and oversee their care.  In December, it became obvious that Mom, who suffered from Alzheimer's, needed to be moved to a care facility.  They had been married almost 70 years, and we were all worried that taking her from the home might hasten my father's decline.  In the end, we had no other choice.

In January of 2006, one of my daughters and I went out see my father and move my mother.  Taking her from the house caused Dad to have a spell that landed him in the hospital.  We stayed for almost a week, until he was home again, then went back East while my brother flew out to take my place.  At the beginning of February, I flew out again, making sure that hospice was still engaged with my father, and trying to quiet his anxiety and fear.  My oldest brother, though autistic, moved into the family home to watch over Dad.

On Friday, February 24, Dad fell in the kitchen, and hospice came and took him to their inpatient facility.  During the night Saturday night, he took a turn for the worse, and the nurses called me.  I asked them to please relay to Dad that I was coming - as quickly as I could.  The first flight available was Sunday afternoon.  I remember grabbing my rental car and flying down the highway to the hospice center.  As I was buzzed through the door, the head nurse came over and took my hand.  "He's been waiting for you," she said.

When I walked in the room, Dad was flailing from side to side, his clawed hands scratching at the air.  I caught one of his hands, and began to whisper..."Daddy, I'm here."  Ever so slowly his body began to calm, then his other hand came down on my arm, and he quieted down completely.  He had fought for life until he knew I was there.  Three hours later, he breathed his last.

Thankful: For a Rest

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,

and I will give you rest.

 Matthew 11:28

 

I am not a football fan, per se, and do not have a great loyalty to any specific team.  I watch the game occasionally, but do not go out of my way to do so.  Superbowl Sunday has no attraction for me from the standpoint of the game, but I look forward to it every year, because it means that I have Sunday afternoon/evening off from work.

Sunday is usually a ten-hour work day for me.  After the morning worship services, I grab a quick lunch and then prepare for youth rehearsals and men's chorus rehearsals.  Today, on Superbowl Sunday, I was able to go home after services, take my daughter and her significant other out to lunch at Panera, take a nap, wash some clothes and generally just relax.  It was a welcome break, particularly after being ill during this last week.

I am not a "stop-and-smell-the-roses" type of person.  I am pretty driven, a perfectionist, and a bit of a workaholic.  Slowing down and taking a "rest" is not something I manage on a regular basis.  Those same qualities cause me to shoulder most of the burdens in my spiritual life as well.  Jesus is well acquainted with people like me, and He calls out - "Tired?  Bushed?  Come - give Me your burdens and take a rest."  That is an invitation that I need to readily and regularly accept. 

Thankful: For Being Able to Help

...there is a friend who stick closer than a brother.

Proverbs 18:24

 

Today I went to the Children's Museum of Virginia to be a participant in the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Awards program for the fundraising efforts of many friends and family groups in Virginia during  2012.  The Richmond chapter of LLS raised over $240,000 in 2012 for blood cancer research.

The church where I am employed has an LLS walking team of which I am the captain.  Our team was formed three years ago when our associate pastor, Ben Horrocks, was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma in an advanced stage.  Pastor Ben had extreme chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant, and is now in remission.  2012 was the third year that we participated in the Light the Night Walk, and our team raised just short of $4000.00.  

Today's ceremony was an emotional one, with stories of medical victories won and cancer battles lost.  One man who was the touchstone and inspiration for one of the top fundraising teams passed away just a few weeks ago, on January 14.  His entire family was there with tears of grief but words of hope and encouragement for those who are still fighting the disease.  Their pleas for continued fundraising did not fall on deaf ears.

I am so thankful that I can help.  There are many walks and events that benefit cancer research around the world such as Light the Night and Relay for Life.  If you have the opportunity to join a team, I would encourage you to do so.  Be thankful for your own good health   And give your time and energy to those who are less fortunate.

Thankful: For Endurance

Weeping may last through the night,

but joy comes with the morning.

Psalm 30:50

Two nights ago my gluten intolerance combined with my food allergies to cause a stomach meltdown.  I was up most of the night throwing up, and I have not felt particularly well ever since.  It usually takes me a few days to get back to normal when I have one of these attacks.  I get smarter and smarter about avoiding stomach problems, but they still happen more frequently than I would like. During my recovery, I have thought alot about endurance.  Funny topic?  Perhaps, but it takes a fair amount of endurance to get through a night of stomach sickness, and there was more than once the other evening when I felt like rolling into a ball and just giving up.

Late last fall, I was doing some final gardening in the back yard, and decided to dig out the stump of an old plant in the area around my pecan tree.  I grabbed a shovel and dug around the roots until the stump finally pulled free.  There appeared to be something white and glistening down in the bottom of the hole.  I worked on it for a minute with my trowel, and up popped a bulb.  As I scratched away at the area, carefully moving dirt, I found a huge mound of bulbs, all crunched together in a round ball, at least a foot deep in the dirt around the pecan tree.  How long they had been there, I do not know.  They had never bloomed - of that I am certain.  I removed all of them, put them in a large plastic nursery pot, then set them by the back door.

Two months later, I happened upon the pot of bulbs, and set them by the front door, figuring that I would see them there and do something with them.  Finally, around the first of December, I took advantage of a slightly warmer day to plant the bulbs in brick planter that skirts the front of my house.  I poked them in the dirt, watered them a little, then forgot about them completely. I did not have much hope that anything would come of them.  After all, they had been buried far below ground for a long time.  I don't know what kind of shelf life flower bulbs have, but I told myself that if they didn't bloom, I was only out a small bit of effort.

This morning, I was on my way to throw out some trash when I happened to glance at the flower bed and stopped in my tracks.  Bright green shoots - obviously daffodils - are coming up in wavery rows (just like I haphazardly planted them) from back to front, side to side - a veritable plethora of green shoots.  It is a little early here for daffodils to come up, but they are hardy, resiliant little buggers - flowers that know how to endure until they are able to burst forth and shine.  They will provide a wonderful mental reminder for me whenever my endurance begins to falter.