Swallow Darkness Whole

If you want to know the truth, it's been a rough year for me.  And my family.  Not because of huge, disastrous events and misfortunes.  It's nothing huge or traumatic, but without going into detail--for me, it's been a year of feeling mostly displaced and under strain.  No, it hasn't been all darkness and gloom; there have been bright spots.  Like the camp I worked at over the summer & the kids I befriended there.  My parents moved to the Seattle area which was sad for me, but great for them.  (And they are still inviting me to come and join them, so don't be shocked if I up & move to Washington...)  I guess it's been a mixed bag of a year, but right now I just feel sort of weighed down and frustrated with my life.

I don't say all this to complain, but to explain.  When I share the things that have brought a little bit of light and hope to my life, I want you to understand that they are like islands of relief in what sometimes feels like an onslaught of disappointment.  I am blessed to have such a great family & far-away friends, and I know it.  I also go to a fantastic church & women's group here.  These things help ease my melodramatic sense of stress.  But one other thing that brings relief and even release is music.

In particular, I've recently gotten into a band called Sleeping At Last.  I first heard their song "Umbrellas" on the Relevant podcast and was blown away.  It took me a while to explore their other music, but for a while they had their album up for free on noisetrade.com, and I downloaded it & fell in love with them.  The more I've heard, the more quickly they've become a new favorite band of mine.  Though they have a different sound from Switchfoot (my very fave, for those that didn't know!) they have the same poetic, honest quality to their lyrics.

Recently, Sleeping At Last launched a new project, called Yearbook.  Instead of doing another traditional 10-12 song album, working on the songs for a year, and then recording it & releasing it all at once, they have committed to writing and releasing three new songs a month for a whole year.  They've already successfully completed the first two months, October and November, and I highly recommend them.  Not only is Yearbook and innovative project, the guys in the band are also very vocal about their process and often tweet and update facebook on the status of the songs for each month.  For people like me, who splurged and signed up for the whole year (actually, it was a good deal, considering you get about three CD's worth of songs by the end!), it feels like I'm involved.

The reason I wanted to share about this project is not just because I find it creative, and a perfect example of what post-modern music making can look like.  I wanted to share because I have found SAL's songs to be very encouraging and healing over the last few months.  They have a folksy, acoustic sound, with lots of piano, strings, and yearning, soulful vocals.  But it's not only their sound--their lyrics acknowledge the brokenness and fragility of life, but speak to a an understanding of hope in something bigger, truer, greater, and deeper.  Though I'm a writer, I don't know if words can fully express how much I have needed these songs this year.  Because music has a power that goes beyond scientific explanation and quantification, the best I can do is say that their songs have poured into me, sifted through the chinks in my armor, and filled me with light and hope.  They are not songs to rock out to; they are often more like lullabies that soothe the soul the way a mother helps a fussy child finally fall asleep and rest.

Sleeping At Last's Ryan & Dan paint soft impressionist watercolors with their gentle melodies and poetic lyrics.  They know how to use shading, and they know how to capture light.  The pairing of their melodies with their words have brought tears to my eyes more than once.  Right now, I'm particularly enamored of their song "Emphasis" from "November":

‎"Life is a gorgeous, broken gift/ six billion pieces waiting to be fixed/ love letters that were never signed, sent to where we live;
The sweetest thing I've ever heard/ is that I don't have to have the answers/ just a little light to call my own;
Though it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows/ a speck of light... can reignite the sun/ and swallow darkness whole."

That's just the tip of the iceberg.  They have so many beautiful songs.  On their previous album, "Storyboards," they used film as an ongoing metaphor for life.  One of my favorite songs from it is "All This to Say":

"Before we were born
God gently told us the truth,
but understanding is something that stops
as our bodies bruise...

Layer by layer, the framework was formed
on an epic of paper:
we breathe to explore.
and fast-forward motion
will gracefully show
the flickering story
that all of our sketches unfold."

There are several really great songs from that album.  Though I haven't heard all of the songs from the previous album, "Keep No Score," the aforementioned "Umbrellas" took my breath away (and helped me flesh out a scene near the climactic end of one of my novels!); "Needle and Thread" is beautiful in every way and is something I can imagine singing as a lullaby:

“'You were a million years of work,'
Said God and His angels, with needle and thread.
They kissed your head and said,
'You’re a good kid and you make us proud.
So just give your best and the rest will come,
And we’ll see you soon.'

All the blood and all the sweat
That we invested to be loved
Follows us into our end,
Where we begin to understand

That maybe Hollywood was right:
When the credits have rolled and the tears have dried,
The answers that we have been dying to find
Are all pieced together and, somehow,
Made perfectly mine.

We are made of love,
And all the beauty stemming from it.
We are made of love,
And every fracture caused by the lack of love."

On my darker days, when all I see are obstacles and enemies, it does my heart immeasurable good to hear the gentle insistence of these two musicians who beautifully but firmly remind me that there is a God, and He is Love, and that is the truest thing in all the universe.  Suck a speck of light can reignite me, and if I can be reignited, so can others.  And together, maybe we can swallow the darkness whole.

An explanation and an excerpt...

So what's been going on?
Um...work. Lots and lots of work. I've read some good books lately, too. C. S. Lewis' Space Trilogy (I'm on the third one now, "That Hideous Strength"). "Downsiders," by Neal Shusterman. "An Abundance of Katherines," by John Green. And some others.

I have been trying to write more, but I'm working on about half a dozen different things, so progress is slow. However, I thought it was time I put something new up on my blog so as not to completely abandon it.
So: here is an excerpt from something I've been working on.
It's called "Blind Like Love" and it's about a broken-hearted girl named Brianne (after my bff) who is finishing college with a pottery class and guitar lessons from a blind adjunct professor, Evan Anderson. I'd love to know what you think.

Chapter Six

“I believe in music the way
some people believe in fairy tales....
The music is all around you.
All you have to do is listen.”
—Evan, “August Rush”

“Okay, first things first,” Mr. Anderson said as he settled across from me in the empty pottery studio. “This,” he patted the guitar as he cradled it, “is Grace. As in, 'Amazing Grace.' She was my grandfather's, and the first thing he learned to play was...”

“Amazing Grace.”

“Right. So that's what he named her. And, that was the first thing he taught me, when he gave her to me.” He gave her a quick, arpeggiated strum, and grinned. “She says 'hi.'”

“Right. Um, hi, back, I guess.” I picked up the guitar he'd brought for me. “Does this one have a name?”

“I brought the black Martin, right?”

I checked the name at the top, by all the tuning pegs. “Yep.”

“Right. That's Roxy.”

I was glad he couldn't see the somewhat skeptical look on my face. It seemed silly to be naming inanimate objects.

“Now, I know this feels a little weird, for me to be teaching you guitar. I mean, I have worksheets and textbooks for you, and obviously I don't go by them. But that stuff—that's just mechanics. I learned how to play both guitar and piano before I lost my sight, so I know how to read music and chords, and I understand chord theory. Honestly, you can learn that stuff from anyone. I think you can even teach it to yourself online. But I'm of the school of thought that music is not taught.”

“It's not?” Then what was I paying him for?

“Well, not exactly. Now, some would disagree with me—after all, music has a very mathematical quality to it. It has set rules and forms. It follows patterns and structures. Right?”

“Sure.” I strained to remember the one chord theory class I'd taken. “That sounds right.”

“Well, I think that while music—like other forms of art—contains structural properties and guidelines, it is inevitably something that either flows out of you, or not. That's why I don't charge for the first lesson. This is basically to see if it's in you, or not.”

“If what is in me?”

“Music. Art. Some people think they have it, but they're really just regurgitating formulas. Others don't know they have it, and never try. But think of the great artists: they weren't people who just studied colors and lines and concepts. They painted what they saw, what they felt. Same for musicians. You can study all you want, but it won't make you a musician if you're not one. To really be good, you have to feel it, in your soul. You have to mean it. It's not science. It's...philosophy.”

He was losing me, rapidly. “Huh?”

“I mean, it's something you let soak into you, and flow back out. It's like a religion, or a relationship. When you devote yourself to God, or to a person, you make a commitment. You spend time with them. You study them. Music, really, is like love.”

That sounded interesting. “How so?”

“Well, like I said, you can't just base it around formulas. A plus B equals C. I mean, yes, if you put this finger here, and this finger there, and strum, you get E minor. But making music is about so much more than that. Like a good relationship, you have to put in time and work. But just being with a person and talking to him, even taking care of his needs, doesn't make it a romance. Just like just playing chords doesn't make someone a musician.

“You have to feel it. Like love, music fills you up, heart and soul. You think about it. You obsess. You hear it, you notice. Even when no one else does. You get lost in it, sometimes. That's what makes someone a musician. Even over talent. Just like...a relationship can look perfect from the outside, but be dying. People can play and sing without meaning it, but the great ones...like relationships that last...they mean it. They know it, they feel it.”

“Wow,” I whispered. A little chill went down my spine. “I've never heard anyone talk about music that way. Except in the movie 'August Rush,'” I amended. “You start off all your classes like this?”

He shrugged. “More or less.”

I drew a deep breath. “Well, I'm not sure if I really fit that description.”

“Well, let's find out.”

“How?”

“What's your favorite song?”

I gawked at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“I...I don't have one favorite,” I told him. “I couldn't possibly.”

“Why not?”

“You should see my iPod,” I said, forgetting that he couldn't actually see it. “Seriously. I have so many different genres and artists and songs I love. I tried to make a playlist of my favorites? Yeah, it's over two hundred songs. Songs I love. I have a hard time even picking a top five.”

He smiled. “And they are?”

I sighed. “Um, 'Cannonball,' by Damien Rice. 'On Fire,' by Switchfoot. 'The Breaking of the Fellowship,' from the Lord of the Rings soundtrack. 'Clocks,' by Coldplay, even though I know it's overplayed. And...oh, I don't know. There are too many others. Isn't a top four good enough?”

“Yes,” he replied. “In fact, you just told me exactly what I needed to know.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You love music. In various styles and formats. You seem to cut across genres and labels and trends. That means something.”

“What?”

“Well, I think it means you're more of a musician than you know.”

I shrugged a little. “Yeah, but, everybody likes music.”

“Not exactly,” he returned. “Some people just like a certain kind of music. And some people just use it as background noise. Some people play music to remind themselves of another time in their life. Some people just listen to the radio and like certain artists because they think they're supposed to—for them, it's just another trend to follow.”

“I guess when you put it that way....”

“Yes, Brianne, you're more unique than you realize.”

“Fantastic.”

He overlooked my sarcasm. “Now, before we get into learning chords, I assume you're most interested in learning worship songs, correct?”

“Um, yeah. I guess. Though I suppose it would be cool to learn a Coldplay song or two.”

He nodded. “I think we can manage that. What kinds of songs are you guys into at IV?”

“Mm, mostly Chris Tomlin, Matt Redman, and David Crowder stuff. Some oldies. Some hymns.”

“Okay. I'll try to pull some music for you. I've found that most people are more motivated to learn chords if they are learning to play a song they like. For now,” he rifled through a folder, feeling the corners of each sheet, “let's start with this one. It's what I teach all of my students on the first lesson.” He handed me a piece of music.

“Amazing Grace,” I read.

“Yeah. A classic. It's my grandpa's favorite. Grandpa Ray taught me to play the guitar, and since the first thing he learned was 'Amazing Grace,” he figured it should be the first thing I learned, too.”

“And now you carry on the tradition.”

“Exactly. You know the song, right?”

I snorted. “Who doesn't?”

“Right. So you can see the letters at the top of the music—those are chords. G, C, D, and E minor—all very simple, basic chords. Once you learn those, you'll be able to play practically any song in the world. Just maybe not in your key. But that is what this is for.” He felt around in his guitar case and pulled out a funny looking metal contraption. “This is called a capo. You squeeze it here,” he demonstrated, “and you fit it on the fretboard,” it clamped onto the neck of his guitar, “and it puts your song in a different key. I have a circle of fifths for you that helps with transposing, too. And a map of the fret board to help with chord theory.”

“Okay, slow down, Mr. Anderson. I learned a little tiny bit about chord theory, but that was a few semesters ago, so. I barely remember the stuff I'm learning this semester.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Sorry, sometimes I get ahead of myself. Let's try a C chord first.” He positioned his fingers on on what he called the fretboard and pressed down on the strings. Then, with his right hand, he strummed. “That's a C. Think you can give it a try? Put your fingers where mine are.”

I looked at his fingers carefully and tried to mirror him.

“Okay, now give her a strum.”

I did. It sounded like crap. I let out a grunt of irritation.

“That's okay. Everyone sounds like that at first. Try adjusting your pointer finger down one string. And make sure you press down hard, with just the tips of your fingers.”

I tried again, and it sounded slightly better.

“There you go! You got it!” My teacher was effusive with praise. I was glad he couldn't see my skeptical expression. “Yeah, strum some more. That's a C. Good job. Now let's try a G.” He repositioned his fingers, and once more I copied him. “Okay, good. Now a D.” He taught me an E minor also, and after reviewing, he suggested we try the song.

My fingertips were already sore from pressing down on the thin metal wires that passed for strings. But I gave it a shot, haltingly getting out each chord. It sounded awful, and I knew it.

“Let's try it together,” Mr. Anderson said. He began strumming, and then singing. It was too low for me to sing, so I concentrated on trying to match him and play the same chord at the same time. My strumming was horrible. I stopped after the first verse, but he kept going.

I tried to make my fingers remember where they should go to correspond with each letter. I still didn't sound as good as he did. He had the easy, relaxed strum of someone who's been playing for years and loves it. And he could sing, too. It wasn't a classically good voice, like someone who would do well in show choirs; he had a unique, kind of soulful, yearning voice.

He sang Amazing Grace like he meant it. And though it didn't matter whether his eyes were open or closed, he closed them anyway, as if by default, to shut out the world a little. Like he forgot I was there. So I just listened as he sang the last verse, about singing praises for eternity. Then he circled back and sang the first verse again, and suddenly I felt awkward.

The last line of it—“was blind, but now I see”—stuck out to me, and I wondered how he felt, singing that. He chose to sing it a second time, and chose to teach the song to me in the first place, so it clearly didn't offend him. His strumming stopped and he fell silent. “You stopped playing,” he said.

“My fingers hurt,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, you'll develop callouses. Start by practicing a few minutes every day. Work on the chords we learned, and I expect you to play the whole song with me next time. And sing,too.”

“Um, okay. But how will I practice? I told you I don't have a guitar.”

“Well, you can hang on to Roxy for now. I told you I'd help you find one, and I will. You just worry about practicing. Okay?”

I ran my hand over Roxy's smooth, varnished surface. “Okay. So...I was kind of crap.”

He smiled patiently. “You did fine, Brianne. Trust me, everyone sounds like that when they start out. You'll get better with practice.”

“Yeah, but you gave that whole speech about trying to see if the music was in me, remember?”

“Right.”

“So is it?”

He didn't answer right away. “I didn't hear you sing,” he said. “When I played 'Amazing Grace.'”

“It was too low for me,” I told him.

“You a soprano?”

“Yeah. I can sing some alto parts, but that was just too low.”

He thought for a moment. “Then let's put it in your key. What do you think, C? Or D?”

“Um...” I tried to remember what Clarke would transpose songs into if I was singing lead. “D?”

Evan strummed a few bars. “That sound right?”

“I guess.”

“Then let's hear it.”

I cleared my throat nervously. I was relatively used to singing in front of people, but in the sudden solo performance for an audience of one, I found myself feeling awkward and unsure. I was beginning to think I didn't really have the music in me after all.

Mr. Anderson graciously, quietly started me off, though it was clearly not an ideal key for him. “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound....”

“That saved a wretch like me,” I joined in. “I once was lost, but now I'm found. Was blind,” I tried not to falter, “but now I see.”

Mr. Anderson's gentle chords soothed my jitters; the key was good for me, and I found myself singing the very familiar song with my own eyes closed. And we were in our own little world, the two of us making music that colored the darkness behind my eyelids. I felt as in that moment that the music had a weight and substance to it, like it meant something.

On the final verse, he joined in again, adding a little harmony—I was impressed. He was really very talented. But somehow, he made me feel like I was talented, too. And it was more than that: I felt like our song had lodged somewhere in my soul. It had soothed some rough corner of my heart and I wondered if he felt that way every time he sang.

“That was really beautiful, Brianne,” he said, in the silence that followed our duet. “You have an amazing voice.”

I shrugged modestly, as I always did, then caught myself. “I enjoy it,” I said.

He nodded. “I can tell.” He felt for his case and began putting Grace away, as well as the rest of his materials. “If you keep at the guitar, I have a feeling you'll find you enjoy that, too,” he said, as he gathered up his things and headed for the door. “Don't give up too quickly. It'll be a challenge at first, but you'll get it.” He turned and flashed me a smile. “You do, by the way.”

“Do what?”

“Have the music in you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” My words were simple, and completely inadequate to express the joy I felt knowing he thought so.

“See you Tuesday.”

Dear Switchfoot,

Thank you.

For an awesome concert & a great night. For writing great music that is fun to listen to and still resonates deeply. And for being real & genuine, and hanging out in the parking lot after your show.

Jon Foreman: I got to shake your hand, get a pic, and tell you that your songs have meant a lot to me--but forgive me, I was a bit dazzled being in the presence of one of my heroes. So, here is what I meant to say, if I'd been able to be eloquent, witty, and didn't have to worry about the other people standing around:

Roughly five years ago, my brother told me about a song he heard on the radio. "It's by a band called Switchfoot," he said. "Have you heard of them? Are they Christian? Because I think he's talking about God."
I thought for a moment. I was pretty sure I had a song or two on some Christian compilations, like WOW. "Yeah, I think they are," I replied. Kyle went on to tell me more about the song "Meant to Live" and how good it was. Not long after, he bought the album, "The Beautiful Letdown." My brother is one of my sources for new music recommendations, so when he told me that it was a really good CD, I borrowed it. He didn't get it back for several months.

Eventually, my entire family had to buy our own copies, because we all loved it so much--all four of us with our own "Beautiful Letdown" CD. (Clearly, this was in the days before we had our zunes.) It took me a while to move past the first few songs, but I finally did and was blown away. You see, 2004-2005 was a rough time for me. I was in a job I hated. My family was going through some rough times--my mom had cancer, my dad was switching jobs, my grandmother died, and we were moving out of our house and into a really crappy apartment. And did I mention I hated my job?

Suddenly I had these songs calling to me, urging me, comforting me. Although I had my family, and we are close, I did not have a community of friendships at that point in my life. I was finding the transition from campus life to the real world challenging. It was a dry, deserty time for me. A dark night of the soul, as St. John of the Cross would say. It was, in fact, a Beautiful Letdown.

So, when I say these songs meant a lot to me, I feel like that's kind of an understatement. For the past few years, since TBL, I have continually found solace and strength in Switchfoot's songs. When "Nothing is Sound" came out, I was grateful for the raw, lament-like honesty of songs like "The Blues" and "Lonely Nation." (And I blogged about it, too.) When "Oh! Gravity" was released, I connected with songs like "The Awakening" and "4:12." I also discovered some older tunes like "You," "Let That Be Enough," and "Only Hope," which somehow were just what I needed to hear at the time. Last summer, when I was searching for direction and leaving a job I loved but which had become too much of a constant battle for me, I was touched by "This is Home." (I cried every time I saw the video--but that probably has as much to do with Switchfoot as it does with the fact that I adore anything involving Narnia, Aslan, and C. S. Lewis.) In fact, my few and faithful readers might remember that I used lyrics from that song several times in this blog that summer.

Even earlier this year, as I discovered "Fiction Family" and caught up on all of Jon Foreman's eps, I continued to be uplifted by the words and music. So many of the songs from "Fall," "Winter," "Spring," & "Summer" just hit me right where I was at. It was another bit of a rough time for me, a time of searching and seeking God, a time of wanting to be renewed and refreshed, and I have to say it: God used many of those songs to restore my soul. Songs like "The Cure for Pain," "White as Snow," "The House of God, Forever," "I am Still Running," and especially "Your Love is Strong" (which my friends and I have played many times in our small groups) were like a healing salve for my troubled soul. They became my prayers in a time when going to church was a struggle.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, I discovered that you had become my favorite band. Which was something of a shock, because as anyone who knew me in high school and college will tell you, I was a rabid Newsboys fan for the longest time. I'm not going to compare the two bands, because such comparisons are "odious" as Madeleine L'Engle would quote. It's enough for me to say that your songs have changed my life and probably in some way saved me. I apologize if that sounds hyperbolic, but that's certainly how it feels.


People are already talking about your upcoming album, and it bugs me when they compare it to your old stuff. Not every album has to be "The Beautiful Letdown." Not every song can be "Dare You to Move." To expect that is just folly--it's like people who wanted every M. Night Shyamalan movie to be "Sixth Sense," when if they'd just been paying attention, they would have seen that "Signs" and "Lady in the Water" were just as good in their own way (better, in my opinion, but that's me). From what I've heard, both at your concert last night and on Youtube (I shamelessly looked up people's amateur vids of you playing new stuff), I think it's going to be good. In fact, I think "Hello Hurricane" is going to be my new anthem. I'm already in love with that song, and can't wait til November so I can have a copy of it.

So thank you once again for being real and honest; for writing and playing songs that are authentic and which resonate and speak to people's hearts and pour into their souls. Your songs have comforted me, challenged me, pushed me, and healed me. Thank you for letting God use you.

Sincerely,

Jessica Richards
(aka the girl who finally went to see you for the first time last night @ Robert Morris U & had an amazing time.)

Can You Hear It?

There's a movie that I absolutely love called August Rush. I've talked about it before.
It's about a boy who grows up in an orphanage, but wants to find his parents. He believes if he plays the music he can hear in his head, they will hear it too, and find him. While that overly simplified synopsis may sound cheesy, Freddie Highmore's portrayal of Evan (later stage-named August) was very convincing.
He says of music that it is "all around. All you have to do is listen."

I saw it last year, and I fell in love with the idea of "hearing the music," the symbolism of something deeper and truer than the noise around us, that connects people and draws them together, if only they can hear it.

This weekend, a newly begun Girl's Group met at my friends' house. We watched a Nooma video, one called Rhythm. Wendy blogged about this on her own blog, so technically, I'm kind of copying her. But anyway. In Rhythm, Rob Bell says that God is like a melody, one that's been going on for thousands of years, and that being in relationship with Him is more than knowing chord theory or having the skill to play perfectly. It's about joining Him in the song. The question, Bell said, isn't whether you are playing any music at all. It's, "are you in tune with God?"

Afterward, we talked about that concept, one you can probably guess I liked. And of course, it made me think of August Rush. One thing we talked about was how we often feel "out of tune" and don't always know how to get back. You could extend the analogy here and say that certain disciplines can help you get back in that rhythm, just like practicing and studying makes you a better musician. So, conceivably, things like prayer and reading the bible would also help one get back in tune with God.

But I, as usual, tend to see things just a little bit differently. I've noticed that sometimes retuning happens whether or not I'm trying for it. Sometimes God gets my attention in unusual ways. Like movies and TV shows and impromptu conversations. I like to think in those moments He's doing the tuning, not me.

I'm a guitar player. So I know that once in a while, I need to tune Holly. The B string in particular likes to go flat. But other times, I go weeks without tuning it. It sounds just fine, so why should I? But if I begin to play Holly alongside another instrument, and she's not in tune, look out! And then I pull out the tuner.

But being "tuned in" can have another connotation. The idea is that you actually listening for something. You're aware of it. In this sense, being tuned into God is almost like trying to find a good radio signal. You want just the right frequency. But how do you get that? With God? How do you get that tuned into Him? I think you have to start by listening. By believing that there IS a signal (or a melody), and that you're supposed to hear it. And that you might hear it anywhere, at any time. Not just Sunday mornings. Not just when you're being ultra-good.

I like the idea of God being like a song. It reminds me of the beginning of "The Silmarillion." And "The Magician's Nephew." Both J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis depicted creation scenes as songs. Which, I think is pretty brilliant. In both cases, they became these epic symphonies in which other voices participated.

I think of Life as a lot of things: a Journey, a Battle, a Love Story...I like the idea of it being a Song, too. A song that God is singing. Can You hear it? On a beautiful, nearly-spring day, can you hear it? When a stranger shows you a small kindness, can you hear it? In good conversations with good friends, can you hear it? "The music is all around you. All you have to do...is listen." And then, join in.

Year in Review.

I stole this survey off of someone else's blog, because I couldn't come up with anything creative and contemplative on my own.


1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
Traveled overseas. Got a passport, had an international flight, went through customs.
Drove into Pittsburgh by myself. Drove to Missouri and back, the whole way!!


2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Um...not as well as I would have liked. I am making some resolutions, because hope springs eternal. And also because I'm making new "decade" resolutions.

And because some things just have to change!!

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Well, I know a few people who had babies. Nobody that I'm super (at least in terms of physical proximity) close with, though.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Not this year, no.

5. What countries did you visit?
IRELAND!!! It was awesome.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
I would love to know what I'm doing with my life, but I doubt that will happen.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
From '07?? Well, probably some boy related ones that seemed momentous at the time but are now irrelevant...and Jan. 2nd, when Brianne got her tat and I got my nose pierced. That was a good day in 2007.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Geez. This is tough. I mean, I think just going to Ireland was the biggest deal. I finally did it. That was a lifelong dream, to get over to that part of the world.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Sometimes the way things ended with CW feels like I failed. Or maybe just how I handled it.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Just the usual colds I always get.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My camera. They say material things can't bring you happiness, but it has brought me such simple joy.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?
We threw Jake a going away party...but that wasn't really a celebration. We still miss him.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
It was hard watching my brother's relationship go sour. (Sometimes it was hard to watch when it was good, too; but it sucks watching someone you love go through a bad break-up.)

14. Where did most of your money go?
Stuff I didn't need at Target, probably. And Mp3 downloads.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Ireland. Going to see Brianne. Prince Caspian. My new phone. Spring.


16. What songs will always remind you of 2008?
Pocketful of Sunshine. "This is Home," by Switchfoot. "The Call," by Regina Spektor.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? About even, I think.
b) thinner or fatter? I've probably put on a few this year.
c) richer or poorer? Slightly poorer, since my job change.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Writing. Job hunting, maybe. Yoga.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Worrying. Stressing. Complaining.

20. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?
Hopefully going downtown for First Night with friends.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008?
No. Fell out of love, actually. But it's a good thing.
Well, unless you count my mad crush on Zachary Levi of "Chuck."

22. How many one-night stands?
None. I could have changed that to "dates" and the answer would still be the same.

23. What was your favourite TV program?
Chuck. Eli Stone. Heroes. Lost. Bones. Pushing Daisies. Monk. Psych. Samantha Who?

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Well, it's more that an already strong disliking intensified.

25.What was the best book you read?
"Culture Making" by Andy Crouch, or "The Celtic Way of Evangelism" by George G. Hunter. Both AMAZING books. I'd put "Walking With God" by John Eldredge, but I'm not quite finished with it yet.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I discovered that I love Coldplay. I know, they're popular and ubiquitous. Like U2. I never thought I liked them much, either. But I do, now. It's weird.

27. What did you want and get?
A camera. My new phone.

28. What did you want and not get?
A new job--something that I'm MEANT to do, you know? Some purpose and direction.

29. What was your favourite film of this year?
Ooh. Well, the sad thing is, I haven't seen a movie since July ( I know, right?!). Ironman was good, so was Get Smart. I really liked Prince Caspian, despite plot changes. HATED The Happening, but Kung Fu Panda was cute. I adored Wall-E.

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Hmm...I believe I went to Seib's with friends. Yes. Several birthday drinks were consumed. Well you only turn 29 once. Or, once a year from now on.

31.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A sense of where I'm going and what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. That would have been helpful.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Scarves. Ballet flats.

33. What kept you sane?
My friends. You know who you are. My head would have exploded without you.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I think I answered that already, but I'll gladly say it again: Zachary Levi. Mmm.

35. What political issue stirred you the most?
Ugh. Don't get me started. I tried to avoid everything remotely political.

36. Who did you miss?
Brianne.

37. Who was the best new person you met?
I met some cool folks in Ireland.

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008?
Community. Fellowship. Vital to survival.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"It started out as feeling, which then grew into a hope.
Which then turned into a quiet thought, which then turned into a quiet word.
And then that word grew louder and louder, until it was a battle cry!
I'll come back, when you call me, no need to say goodbye."
--Regina Spektor, "The Call" (From the Prince Caspian Soundtrack)

I used this already this year, but:
"I still haven't found what I'm looking for." --U2

"Well yes, I'm still running..."

So, considering my current frame of mind, I stumbled across an unexpected anthem yesterday.


I was driving to Aldi after work to pick up a few things (allow me a sidebar: their roasted red pepper hummus is so good I had to go back for more!!)...and I turned on the radio.


Lately, I've either been sticking in a CD or riding in silence...often silence wins out because I can't find music to suit my mood, or it seems like a good way to process some thoughts and talk to God. But anyway, there I was flipping stations, when I heard some familiar strums. It's a song I've heard nearly all of my music-noticing life. I remember hearing my dad talk about it and the meaning of it. And it's famous, a song that nearly everyone knows by a band that everyone's heard of.


It was "I Still Haven't Found What I'm looking For," by U2.


And it hit me in a profound and unexpected way.


There are powerful, controversial lyrics packed in there:

I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one, bleed into one
Well yes, I'm still running
You broke the bonds and you loosed the chains
Carried the cross of my shame, of my shame
You know I believe it

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I think as Christians, we can feel somewhat offended or at least mildly ruffled by the implication that one can deeply believe in the life-changing work of Christ and the cross, and yet still claim to not have found whatever it is that we're all looking for.


But in that moment, I completely resonated with that song in a way I never had before. I feel like I owe apologies to friends like E and Sara who have championed the virtues of U2, because I never really got into them. Despite whatever controversies some might have perceived, U2 is still a trendy secular band for Christians to like. And it was in part for that reason that I never really bothered to give them a listen. I'm repentant now; and I have seen how obnoxious it can be when you try to share something with someone only to have it snubbed because it's "too popular." Sometimes things are popular because they actually are good. Not always. But sometimes. And I guess now I have moved U2 into that category.

I wonder, does Bono still feel that way? 20 years later, is he still looking? Do any of us ever really stop looking?


Anyway. I share all this because I think it's important to acknowledge that there are some things we will never "find" in this life, and others we may spend years chasing. Right now, I'm searching for a sense of calling, of specific purpose for my life. My path. I definitely have not found what I'm looking for. I believe everything I'm supposed to believe, and I desire to serve God wherever he calls me...but I still haven't found what I'm looking for.


And actually, it's kind of a relief to say that. Or...sing it.

Music is My Mood

So, just about ten minutes ago, I was browsing my myspace, and discovered that my [former] favorite band is releasing a new "Greatest Hits" album this month. I (a) cannot believe it is time for another one of those already, and (b) already like the two new songs that will be on this album (courtesy of their myspace).

I've been thinking about music a lot lately. It's funny, I never really considered myself as an overly musical person, even though I play guitar. Even so, I don't think of myself as a "musician." that's reserved for people who can actually read music--or write it, for that mater. People who know how to play multiple instruments or sing or can speak in musical terminology. BUT I have always loved music. And I did want to be a singer when I was about nine.

For most of my life though, I've been fairly sheltered in my selection of music. It's not entirely all my own doing; my parents got rid of all their secular albums (y'know, vinyls) when I was a baby. They didn't want it to have a negative impact on me. It was okay, though, because Christian music was just starting to come into its own at that time. So I grew up on Maranatha, Michael W. Smith, Amy Grant, Twila Paris, etc.

It wasn't until my senior year of high school that I voluntarily listened to the radio. True story. That's perhaps why I love 90's music so much. Anyway, in college I went through another Christian music relapse...but as it helped shape my understanding of worship, I don't consider that such a bad thing.

But lately, I've been branching out again. It's due to a lot of things. The Indie stuff is because of Brianne. The techno/alternative-type stuff is because of Kyle. The Obscure stuff is because of "Chuck" (on NBC before Heroes)...and the Classic/Rock stuff is because of Guitar Hero. You can't listen to those songs as many times as it takes to get them right and not start to jam to it just a little. (Do I like them all? No. But more than I ever expected to, once again scandalizing the 16-year-old-me.) I'm surprised to find, for example, that I kind of like the Foo Fighters. At least a couple of their songs. And I'm really digging a song by the Eels that was on Chuck this week.

So I've been building my digital library lately, in hopes that soon I will be able to get a Zune (I'll save my anti-itunes rant for another time). Because CDs just aren't cutting it anymore. And music is useful for so many things: expressing feelings, keeping me on track when I'm doing mundane tasks, shaping moods, and helping me visualize a scene. I use playlists a lot in my writing. I kind of do this thing when I'm listening to music--I picture what is going on. Maybe it's due partly to growing up in the Mtv generation, and all the music videos. But a good song can often help me picture a specific scene in one of my stories. Sometimes it even changes or enhances the direction I was going.

But most off all, music just makes me feel good. Doesn't it? I love blasting a song in my car, singing at the top of my lungs, the bass thumping loudly, people in cars around me laughing at me. It's great. Music: What would we do without it?

Friday Surprise!!

Okay, I have something I would like to share with you. I've been keeping it to myself for a while, mostly to see how things would turn out. Now, before you get all excited, let me explain. It's just a blog.

You read that correctly: I have a new blog.

No, I'm not abandoning this one, not by any means. Why on earth, then, would I be starting a new one? The answer is quite simple: I was asked to.

I saw recently that an online music community called hearitfirst was looking for some blog writers. I "applied" so to speak, sending samples of my writing...earlier posts from this very blog. And they accepted me! I guess I'll be writing for them pretty regularly...they just published my first post, and I've already been given an assignment for next week.

Hearitfirst.com is all about Christian music (Sorry, Brianne! Maybe I'll find a way to mention Nickel Creek, Imogen or Damien yet, though). They have a few different blogs on different topics. The blog I'll be writing for is a "Spiritual Growth" blog. Does that sound as intimidating to you as it does to me???

Anyway, I just wanted to share the news. Happy Friday, Everyone!

The Boys Are Back

...And better than ever.

And now we come to the part of this blog where I treat you to my opinions on a piece of artwork—otherwise known as a review.

Now, you might know that I am typically disdainful of reviews, especially critical ones.

But actually, this is one area where I am known for being rather…biased.

A brief prologue: Since my high school years, The Newsboys have been my favorite band. They captivated me with their funny, funky songs and extravagant stage productions. I was a fanatic. In college, I was actually known for it. I hung posters up in my dorm. I converted people to being fellow fans by incessantly playing their music. I got people to come to concerts with me. To this day, college friends tell me that when they hear a Newsboys song, they think of me. Okay, prologue over.

Flash-forward to today. It’s been several years since the ’Boys have released a new album that wasn’t labeled “worship.” Don’t get me wrong—the worship stuff was good. But it just felt so…trendy. Everyone had a worship album at that point. And...call me sacrilegious, but I actually missed their snarky, sarcastic lyrics.

Now they’ve released “Go.” It just came out at the end of last month. I finally bought it the other night; the single had been tiding me over for the time being.

Yay! It’s so fun. I love those guys. They have such good music. Their melodies are catchy, their lyrics are witty, and their bass lines are thumping.

My favorites so far are: Wherever We Go, Your Love is better than Life, and Secret Kingdom. The others are also very good…but those are addicting. I play them at very high decibels, especially in my car.

Okay, so that’s my Newsboys plug. I love that band. You should check them out! They are supposed to be coming to Grove City College in February....I am SO THERE!!!

Want to come with?

Turkish Delight

“What would you like best to eat?”
“Turkish Delight, please, your majesty,” said Edmund.
The Queen let another drop fall from her bottle on the snow, and instantly there appeared a round box, tied with a green silk ribbon, which, when opened turned out to contain several pounds of the best Turkish Delight….Edmund had never tasted anything so delicious….and the more he ate the more he wanted to eat….
At last the Turkish Delight was all finished and Edmund was looking very hard at the empty box and wishing that she would ask him whether he would like some more. Probably the queen knew quite well what he was thinking; for she knew, though Edmund did not, that this was enchanted Turkish Delight and that anyone who had once tasted it would want more and more of it, and would even, if they were allowed, go on eating it till they killed themselves. …
But he still wanted to taste that Turkish Delight again more than he wanted anything else.

Recently, I had the opportunity to try some Turkish Delight. I found some in a store that carries specialty imported foods. I decided that it would not have been my first choice in that situation, and I would much rather have chocolate or cheesecake.

When I was little, my dad would make his version of Turkish Delight for my brother and I. It was based on something his father called “German” Toast (instead of French Toast)—syrup or honey on toast, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. Oh, yeah. We were incorrigible little sweet tooths. Real Turkish Delight is a gelatiny confection usually rose or lemon flavored, and sometimes covered in chocolate, powdered sugar or containing nuts. Needless to say, my brother Kyle was quite disappointed with the genuine article and still maintains that it has messed up his childhood memories.

However, there is one form of Turkish Delight that I absolutely love. In fact, I’m completely addicted. I even crave it. It is…a song by David Crowder Band.

Disney and Walden Media just released a “music inspired by” CD for the upcoming Narnia movie. It is a compilation project by today’s top Christian Artists. Which you might not think I’d go for, but I did. Mostly because it’s Narnia…but also in large part because I was intrigued that DCB did a song on Turkish Delight.

I must confess that a good chunk of the CD disappointed me. You might think that a song “inspired by” Narnia might actually be about Narnia. I did. I was wrong. Many of the songs seem to be more about the artist’s perspective of Narnia, and more about The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe as an allegory than as a story. Which…would be okay…if it was only one or two songs. But several of them don’t seem to be any different than a typical Christian song talking about God and worship. They’re good pieces of music, by my humble standards, but they just don’t seem to have a lot to do with Narnia.

However, there are a few notable exceptions. Nichole Nordeman’s contribution “I Will Believe” is good and has a few really great lines in it; I’m not the biggest tobymac fan but his song “New World” is quite catchy…once you get past the fact that he practically yells “Narnia” in the chorus. My second favorite song on the album is Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Remembering You.” I couldn’t figure out why he sang “I wish you could stay,” instead of I wish I could stay, until I remembered that Aslan does leave the children after they are coronated (hope I didn’t spoil anyone!!). It makes me teary-eyed when I hear it…though not in the same way that Annie Lennox’s “Into the West” from “The Return of the King” did. “Remembering You” is both wistful and joyful, with beautiful lilting Celtic pipes (which I just adore!!)

But my absolute favorite song on the album (and I need it after all those other sappy songs start making me cry) is “Turkish Delight” by the David Crowder Band. It is the only song on the album that is from a character’s point of view dealing directly with an event from the story. A few other songs might be from a character’s point of view, like “Remembering You” might be Lucy or Susan (my vote is Lucy), and Kutlass’ “More than it Seems” sounds like it is Peter speaking.

But as you can see from the excerpt above, the DCB song is the only one taken straight from Lewis’ pages. It is soooo good. From the 70’s inspired melody (read: disco-esque) to the nearly perfect lyrics, it is a song that I have been playing over and over and over. I say “nearly perfect” because he calls it a “bit of pie”— which you now know is completely incorrect. I can forgive that, since he only used it to rhyme with “lie.” But with other lyrics like “what I wouldn’t do…it’s all I want…I gotta get another taste…the more I have, the more I want” it makes not only for a great song about the story, but in so doing illustrated the very nature of temptation and addiction in general. I think Lewis would have been pleased with that.

I know I am. (This morning I had it cranked up and was dancing in the kitchen to it. I kid you not, both of my cats came in and started at me like I was crazy. It was great.) I'm enjoying some Turkish Delight right now. 

Nothing is Sound

I got a new CD the other day. I took it home from the store and cut it open to read the lyrics. I was blown away. I put it in the CD player to listen and just continued to play it over and over. I have been listening to it almost constantly.

Now if I was Brianne, you would know what the album was without even asking, since she talks about her passion all the time on her blog.

But this is my blog and therefore you probably want to know what CD I’m referring to. (Unless, of course, you recognized the title.)

I’m talking about Switchfoot’s new album, Nothing is Sound. I first got into Switchfoot with their Beautiful Letdown CD, so it’s not like I’m a long-time, die-hard fan writing here. But I was touched deeply by songs like “Meant to Live,” “This is Your Life,” and “Dare You to Move” (which is probably one of my most favorite songs ever).

So naturally I was drawn to the new CD, despite my brother’s warning that a friend of his hadn’t liked it as much. Well, I like it so much that I’m blogging about it, except I hardly know where to begin.

I guess what hits me most and hardest is the unrelentless honesty of their songs. They are singing about things like brokenness and wounds and what is life all about, anyway? They pick up on the absurd paradoxes and double standards of our culture in a way that keeps form being overly cynical by adding in hope, and they aren’t afraid to humbly admit they are as much a part of the problem as anyone else.

I love it.

The minute I began reading the lyrics, I was hooked. But now I’ve been playing it over and over, and I just went to their website. I read Jon Foreman’s notes on how the songs came about and what the album is really supposed to be saying. I almost cried. Sometimes I’m afraid that the things I love so swiftly and deeply are things I will regret later. This is probably a lie of the Enemy. I told my family (and Brianne) that it felt like they had read through Ecclesiastes before writing the songs, and Foreman mentioned not only Ecclesiastes, but Psalms as well. He spoke with such honesty about the paradoxes in our world…I don’t know why but it was so refreshing.

This is the kind of CD I could put in at the end of a long, horrible day, when I’m angry with my life or myself or when I just don’t understand what is going on in the world. And it is the kind of CD that would make me feel better. It is like a lament: it starts with questions, with admissions of pain, loneliness, and wounds…and moves into an acknowledgement that there is still hope. It lets you cry, it lets you sing, it lets you breathe.

To keep this from sounding like an ad for Switchfoot, I just want to make it clear why I love it so much. I have felt for a long time that there is something lacking in our culture—and that it has spilled over into the Church. Call it what you want—honesty, openness, authenticity. We are afraid to be ourselves. We are afraid to let others see us struggling. Wait. No. I. I am afraid to let people know when I am hurting. I don’t want people to see me when I am vulnerable. I hate to cry in front of others.

I think the reason for this is that something critical happens when we share the vulnerable broken parts of ourselves with someone else. You can only forge a genuine friendship—or any other kind of ’ship—when you are real with someone else. And if there is one thing our Enemy hates, it is fellowship. He will keep us from being real if it keeps us from being connected.

These songs are about brokenness; they aren’t about how great life is when you become a Christian. They aren’t La-la-la-le-lujah songs. Those have their place, but we’ve made them the center. We have forgotten how to lament.

Sometimes when I walk into church, I want to turn around and walk right back out again. I hear the music: it’ another “It’s a Wonderful Day So Let’s Praise the Lord” song. Are you kidding me? I overslept and missed breakfast and got into fights on the way here. I had a lousy week at my lousy job. The highlight of my week was watching TV. And now I’m supposed to automatically turn on my smile and start singing? I can’t do it. Well, I guess I can…but I don’t like to. I need time and silence to get my heart right with God again.

These songs speak to that need. They speak to that place inside you that wonders while you sing in church, “Am I really satisfied? Am I really as happy in Christ as this song says I should be?” So if you’ve ever felt like something wasn’t right—with you, with the world, with everything—go get this CD. And go read what they have to say about the songs. And don’t ask me if they are a Christian Band. Listen to it and decide for yourself.

And the next time someone asks how you were doing, before automatically responding, “Fine,” at least consider being honest. 

Community Worship

Last night a woman asked me for my autograph.

Not because of my writing. Because of my music.

I am not a “musician.” My friend Brianne? She’s a musician. But I like to play the guitar, and I like to sing. And because of those to interests (notice which one came first) I volunteer in my church’s worship band a couple times a month. Sometimes more.

We have a contemporary service on Saturday night called “Community Worship” (link just added on the right). I like being a part of it, getting to teach new songs to the congregation. (After singing and playing them at least once a week for four consecutive years, I am little tired of songs like “Holiness,” “Open the Eyes of My Heart,” and the especially overplayed “Better is one Day.”)

Anyway, this week, there was a problem with the schedule: a shortage of vocalists. So since I was already scheduled to play guitar, Alycia (the Coordinator of CW schedules and one of the worship leaders) asked me to also be a vocalist. I normally sing when I play; I have a microphone in front of me. But it is harmony. Even when I sing the melody, there are usually at least two other voices singing with me. You can’t really her me. I know this because my family has complained, “We can’t hear you!”

A woman who also plays the bass was going to do vocals as well. But she, too, usually does the harmony part. And we are both altos. So you can see this was going to be tricky. It ended up that we both sang lead on different songs…but I did the majority. At first I was a little annoyed. I like singing harmony. But then I thought, maybe it is a bit too much in my comfort zone.

In practice I was relatively fine. No big. And in my room…well, I usually belt it out there anyway. But it is a completely different thing when there is a microphone in front of you, and a monitor pointed in your direction so you can actually hear yourself, exactly as you sound. Add in an audience and…you get a bundle of nerves. At least, I did. I was a basket case before we started. I’m always a little nervous, because I don’t want to screw up. And just so you know, it takes coordination to sing and play guitar. Rock stars make it look easy, but it’s not.

I think I mentioned earlier that I like to sing. I do. I’m not someone you would hear and go, “Wow! Someone get her a recording contract!” but I’m also not someone you hear and go, “Is a dog dying somewhere nearby?” Still, I had no choice. I had to usher the congregation into worship. I took a breath, closed my eyes, and let it out.

Afterward, I had people tell me we sounded good. Note the “we,” that’s important. A leader without a band is just…lonely. And the woman who asked for my autograph? No, it wasn’t my mom. But it was a friend of mine. And she really did make me sign a piece of paper.

I guess the point could be that it’s good to stretch yourself; that it’s good to get out of your comfort zone. Or not to care too much what “everyone” thinks. But actually, there is no moral here. Sorry. I just wanted to tell the story of how I had to sing at CW. That there were people actually listening to my voice and they didn’t boo or leave or throw rotten fruit. You can be told that you’re okay at something, even that you’re good, by people. But when they’re family or friends, I think we all just kinda go “yeah, right” in the back of our minds. Even if the person is a ferociously truthful person. But until you go through a public trial, you never really know.

And so I’m still waiting to be asked for my autograph in my novel.