Roses

Nobody sees a flower---really---it is so small it takes time---we haven't time---and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time. 

-Georgia O'Keeffe

My husband had to travel this year over Valentine's Day. It wasn't a big deal. Valentine's Day has never been something we go crazy about. In fact, we usually opt for staying in on "fancy grub" holidays to avoid the crowds. Busy restaurants hold very little romantic appeal for me.

V-day came without a big fanfare. I managed to pull off heart shaped pancakes and I let the girls dig into their box of treats from their school friends. That sugar high lasted for hours (not an exaggeration…we have a large island in our kitchen and all three girls did not stop running around it for most of the morning. Yelling like purple minions…).

Late in the evening the flowers arrived. He sent a dozen roses with a simple note to let us know that he loves us and he missed us. The flowers were color coded: three orange roses for the littlest, three white roses for the biggest, three pink roses for the oldest, and three yellow roses for me. He never told us, yet we all knew instantly who he meant each color to represent. It is wonderful to be known.

I have watched the roses bloom over the last few days. I had forgotten just how beautiful roses can be. So delicate. So rich. They have begged me to stop and smell them, and they have made me realize how fast I run. I run all the time. Running in every way: physically, spiritually, emotionally, cognitively. These flowers make me stop what I am doing to truly see them. They seem to be trying to teach me a lesson.

This quote was on a bookmarked page of a book I have been meaning to get back to for awhile. It found me tonight. "Nobody sees a flower---really---it is so small it takes time---and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time." It fit perfectly with where I am tonight. Searching for a way to be more still. Hoping to find a simple solution to a better connection with those I love.

I have been blind, but now I see. I have a renewed joy in sight. It is such a small adjustment…to simply look at the things in front of me more closely; to be present. Small, yes, but HUGE.

The best part is…my best friend is the one who helped me see it. Someone who knows how to see me and be my friend like no one else ever has.

He sent me flowers.

Song Story: Finding Tinker Bell

Finding Tinker Bell was born out of a game I played with my father when I was small. The song touches on the faith of a child and why we need to hang on to that ability as an adult.


When I was a little girl Tinker Bell would visit me
Whenever I was in my daddy's arms or playing at his feet
Her tiny fairy wings sparkled with gold as she danced around the room
Together we would laugh and play in the bright light of afternoon

But when I was a little girl my friends, they laughed at me
When I told them of my fairy friend they said she couldn't be
I ran into my father's arms broken and close to tears
He said "Baby girl, tell me about your fears."

Sometimes it's best to believe in things we cannot see 
To figure out what matters
Just let go of all your fear and doubt
Close your eyes and see
Go find Tinker Bell

Somehow I became a grown up girl, a heart and mind all my own
Tinker Bell became a faded thought, a memory of a childhood home

My soul was selfish, I was lost and alone
I longed for something more
From within me an answer came from a lesson I'd learned years before.

Sometimes it's best to believe in things we cannot see
To figure our what matters
Just let go of all your fear and doubt
Close your eyes and see
If you close your eyes you'll see
I'm Finding Tinker Bell

I am a Songwriter

We live in a culture obsessed with titles. Think about it. What is one of the first questions you ask someone that you have just met? I usually ask what they "do" and expect them to tell me how they make a living. Don't you? We draw a lot of importance in what we do and having a title that gives us some social status.

Here is what I don't like about titles. We feel like we have to be successful at something (or at least compitent) to hold that title. Therefore, many of us have what I will call shadow titles...those descriptions we long to have and know we were created to be, but don't yet feel comfortable sharing with the world. What a shame.

I understand that there will always be a spectrum of what is socially acceptable; that black and white is impossible to apply to social norms. But wouldn't it be wonderful to feel more freedom to push against what is considered acceptable and not worry about what others will think?

I am a songwriter. Writing songs is what I am good at and what I am created to do. However, I never tell people that is what I am. I give a whole list of other things that I "do" and if you are lucky (and I am feeling rather brave) I will tell you I am an "aspiring" songwriter. I don't feel like I have done anything to deserve the real title. That is ridiculous.

Has anyone famous ever recorded one of my songs? Nope. Has anyone other than myself ever recorded one of my songs? Nope. Have I ever earned any money from selling my songs? Not enough to report to the IRS. Yikes.

Yet I choose to look through a different lens and claim my title from a different standard: I have written a bunch of songs. I have a bunch more that are waiting to be finished. In time, they will be molded in a recording studio and find an audience. Doesn't that make me a songwriter?

I think so.

Choices

I read a newsletter today from a singer/songwriter I played with once in my early 20s. I have been on her email list since 2003, and I watched her grow over the past decade into one of the better independent artists in the industry. To be a bit raw, I will admit that I have followed her career because I believe if I had stuck to my songwriting career goals, I would likely be in a very similar place. We were alike in many ways.

I always finish her newsletters conflicted: I'm excited for her and all the amazing adventures she gets to be a part of, and a bit gloomy with the "what ifs" had I chosen to follow a path like hers. I still write songs (even if most of them are still in my head or partially written down) and I love grabbing my guitar and hiding in the basement late a night after the girls are asleep for a little music time. Sometimes I wonder if my days of playing for crowds of people are over, and the rest of my life will be spent playing songs for my own enjoyment.

Right now, I can't say.

I can say that I am so thankful that my 20s ended up being taken over by three little girls. They are worth every minute. And maybe I didn't spend the last 10 years touring Europe or headlining sold out shows in NYC, but I did get to snuggle feverish toddlers and create lots of crayola masterpieces. And, somehow, I think I am happier now than I would have been had I chosen differently.

No one says I can't still have some amazing adventures down the road, right? Didn't I hear recently that 40 is the new 20? We shall see.

The Easter Bunny

Today in the checkout line at Costco, one of the cashiers asked our eldest if she was excited for the Easter Bunny to bring her an Easter basket. She replied "The Easter Bunny isn't real, so I don't know how he will bring a basket. Easter is all about Jesus." 

We don't have any huge issues with the Easter Bunny and I have no idea where my daughter learned about his lack of existence.  What I do know is that Easter is about Jesus, and our girls seem to be much more interested in the story of His death and Resurrection than any rabbit that hides eggs. And that is the way it should be; the life and death and new life of Jesus is so exciting and powerful; it should be celebrated!

So, I pray that we have a glorious day this Sunday finding eggs and eating chocolate bunnies, but that the emphasis of the day is put in the Glory of God and the HUGE sacrifice He made in order to save us.

He is Risen. He is Risen Indeed.

"Mom...Jesus carried a log on His back up a tall mountain and when He got to the top, He died. Then, He LIVED AGAIN!" -my littlest (emphasis hers). Amen.

Focus

God often gives us direction in life. The trick is choosing it, as it is often a different path than we would choose for ourselves.

We all have God created gifts and characteristics that shape what we are good at. To truly find what our purpose is in this short lifetime, we need to look at those gifts, look at what we truly value, and sink our time and effort into those things.

Focus. You know what that one thing is that you were designed for. Seriously...you do. God has shown you at some point along the road. It will probably take a lot of courage and persistence to accomplish. It won't be easy; it will be fulfilling. Do it.

Note to self: This means you, Jenna. Read this often. Stop getting sidetracked and focus. Stop whining...it is not impossible. Hard, yes, but not impossible. Focus.

Hello!

This is my Journal.

I have no idea what it will become. I do know that I have many things to share about what I do and the process that allows me to do it. Let's assume that this will be a good place for those thoughts to come out.

I am a horrible speller. I don't always remember to run my work through the glorious tool that is spellcheck. A little grace would be greatly appreciated.

Good times are ahead.
J