How I Wonder What You Are...

When I was in school the years seemed to start and end at the close of summer. I enjoyed the release of that routine when I left my educational years and entered "adulthood". I like starting over every December 31st. Of course we are not machines and we cannot just hit "empty trash" when the clock strikes midnight. But I still enjoy the ceremony of it.

One of my favorite 2 1/2 year olds named Ruby sleeps with what I call her "entourage". It consists of a blanket (or two, but one specific one of course) a plastic doll, a stuffed cat and often next to her bed, a sippy cup of juice or water. One night this fall while I was watching her she emerged from her sleeping quarters, sippy cup in hand and arms full of her entire entourage. She had the whole quivering lip, I'm so tired but I can't sleep thing happening and it was one of the cutest things I've ever seen. I scooped all of them up and we sang some songs together to get calmed down.

"Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are..."

Oh Ruby...
I carry around an entourage too. From this past year, from every year before that, and sometimes I even borrow baggage from tomorrow. And I wake up afraid too. One day your plastic doll and tired blanket will not be enough to scare the dark away. I fear that day for you but I need not because I know you are carried by arms much bigger than mine, bigger than your parents, and He will always sing with you until you get back to sleep.

"Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky..."

This next year is such an unknown for my husband and I. Our roles in life are changing and nothing will stay the same. I suppose not everything will change. We will still love each other and I will still soften each time he says my name. The keys to our house will remain on our keychains and I will soon make baby food with the same food processor we use now. There will be mornings and evenings, suns and moons, as there always has been. But still...I can feel the winds changing direction when I stand outside. I can feel it blowing through my hair as I place my hands where this child grows inside me. I can feel you moving, baby, as your father and I are moving. "Look up!" says the wind. Watch! Listen!

And so we will watch, we will listen. We will enter this new year with great joy and great trust in a strength that surpasses understanding.

The Star, by Jane Taylor

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky!

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the traveller in the dark,—
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

Merry Christmas From Oso!

Silent Stars EP up on Itunes!

The Silent Stars EP is finally up on itunes! Just in time for Christmas. :) I'm really proud of this project and hope you'll give it a listen and leave a review if you want.

There is also a review up about the EP here,

and

my blog was voted one of the top 10 artist blogs of 08 by CMcentral.com!
I'm very grateful for the support!

Tell me a Story

I love reading novels. Sometimes I look at the stack of non-fiction sitting next to my reading chair and feel guilty reaching for the one novel on top of the endless parade of (I'm sure wonderful) books on spirituality, healthy living, and an array of interesting topics that I would love to be more knowledgable on. But the truth is I am a sucker for a good story. This is why I do love non-fiction writers like Frederick Buechner and Annie Dillard; they use story to portray deep truth. This is something Jesus did as well, which I am constantly reminding myself of when I start to feel guilty for reading so many novels and only a handful of non-fiction books. I need not feel guilty, I know this. Story is good for my soul, good for my songwriting even. And I think I learned much more about my own faith while reading this last novel than I would have by reading the latest self-help spirituality book.

The book I just finished is Christ The Lord: Road to Cana by Anne Rice. I was moved deeply by her portrayal of Jesus as a 30 year old man about to start (what we call) His ministry. If you like fiction and the story of Christ interests you, you'll love her two books on His life. Christ The Lord: Out of Egypt was also wonderful. I could go on and on but I don't want to sound like an episode of reading rainbow. I'll just say thank you Anne, for writing something that must not have been easy to write so that the life of Christ could come alive for us readers.

Thank God for the writers, the poets, the artists. I need these people!

22 Weeks

I'm not one to post on this sort of thing, but I couldn't let this one go because I myself, am 22 weeks pregnant this week.

There is a movie out called "22 Weeks" about a mother who went in to an abortion clinic at 22 weeks pregnant and ended up giving birth to her live child in the bathroom by herself, with workers refusing to help her keep him alive. No matter your stance on abortion, this is a story that needs to be told and I'm anxious to see it. Watch the trailer here, and read the article they refer to here.

from their myspace page:
"A film about decisions, their effects and the echos they leave behind. Based on the shocking World Net Daily article by Ron Strom, on victim's testimonies, and real 911 calls about one of the most controversial subjects of our time, "22weeks" achieves to confront both sides of the spectrum and their perspective to the on going question: "what would you do?"
This is the shocking true story about the reality behind abortion and the heroic struggle of a mother willing to do anything to save her child."

Time and It's Trappings

I’m sitting once again at a favorite coffee shop of mine, hot chocolate in hand, Christmas music playing from the speakers, considering the last year of my life. Lately I’ve been struck by the abstract nature of time. I know time is passing, I know the green grass has dried up and turned brown, the flies that invaded my house this past summer have finally left, and I will soon (as I did last year and the year before) have to think twice before I write the date on my checks. I know this is happening. I know.

At church yesterday I watched the children run across the wood floors of the old building we meet in, and I was struck at how fast they are growing! Wasn’t she just pregnant? When did that little girl turn in to a teenager? When did that cute baby get out of that stroller and start walking around?! When did this happen? Well, over time. Over these last years.

This reminder of time’s unforgiving consistency is what causes me to consider my life of 2008. A year in which not much has changed from it’s beginning to now. It seems. A year in which I wrote dozens of songs, some of those songs ended up on a couple records, I played dozens of shows, traveled to many places, watched too many hours of television, read some books, got slightly better at playing the piano, met some new people, grew some relationships, and hopefully learned some things. But it seems to be a dud of a year when I consider the children in my life who have done things like learned how to talk, how to walk, or how to eat solid food! Now THOSE are big accomplishments. This is the point in my thought process when I realize how much our culture shapes the way I look at my life. Culture tells me that my worth is found in what I have accomplished, when I know this is not true.

When I sign off of this website, I’ll still be pondering the funny abstraction of time and how it seems to change it’s dimensions as I get older, but I'll stop pondering what I’ve done over the last year because I know my means of measurement are way off. Here is the first verse and chorus of a song called “Trophies” that I wrote recently with my friend Stephen Gause. Seems appropriate.

Trophies

I have nothing to prove
though I know this to be true
still I will try not to lose
this game where worth is found in what we do

fighting for my survival, to earn my place in line
a status and a title, as if that were the prize

Trophies in my hands
fall apart like castles in the sand
it’ll all be washed away
there I’ll stand with nothing left to say
cause your love has sustained me
your love has sustained me

Baby Feet

Below is my favorite image from our 20 week ultra sound! It was so amazing to get to see the little life growing inside me, too much to explain in words. These little feet and little toes were the first thing we saw on the screen and I think it's quite appropriate to direct you who are reading to this poem I wrote last April 18th. Our Baby is due this April 16th according to one doctor and 20th according to another. So I'm going to say the 18th, which was my original estimation anyway and I enjoy knowing that what I wrote on April 18th of 08 might just have been about our little miracle to be born a year later. It sure makes more sense to me today than it did then. Read it here: By The Feet of a Little One.