It’s essentially impossible for me to do the Sunset post on time. October 31 is always Halloween, I have trick-or-treat age kids, and the sunset falls right in the middle of all the festivities. So for me it’s nearly impossible to capture the sunset photo AND find the time to…
A great misconception our culture perpetuates is that the longer the life, the greater the legacy, the more valuable the life. This is closely tied to the ugly belief some hold that a child in the womb has no “value” unless the mother wants him or her. But as many…
Dear Lightning Bug, It has been over two weeks since I first held you in my arms, over four months too soon. Two weeks since we gave you your “real” name, Alexander Gregory. Two weeks since we told you goodbye. I am so sad that you aren’t with us,…
“…And forgive us our tresspasses as we forgive those who tresspass against us…” Those are familiar words, but, too often, a foreign concept. We live in a culture that remembers and encourages us to stoke anger and feed grudges. After all, if the wife of the politician who cheated with…
A few nights ago — or mornings, rather — Jason Mraz met me in my subconscious again. Even as my husband spooned me in the stolen moments before the alarm went off, I couldn’t help but savor the interactive screenplay in my head.
In my dream, I was at an outdoor concert, one where the parking lot was a field constrained by woods. It was nearing the end of a clear summer day. Near the woodline, I could feel the cool breath of evening, but still, the air was heavy with the heat and humidity of late July in Pennsylvania.
The concert was nearing an end, and Jason had just “disappeared” from the stage though the show continued; most of the crowd was still at the stage. I, however, was in the parking lot. I had missed the very end of Jason’s set in hopes of catching up with him at the bus. Sure enough, as he sprinted to the bus, somehow without an entourage or gaggle of starstruck fans, I was able to catch him. He had a huge, black afro wig in hand, presumably to disguise himself as he made his great escape. (At this point, we could hear that the crowds were on their way.) I asked if he had a minute before he got on the bus. He obliged, stressing though, that it needed to be quick. I introduced myself as being a huge fan, and thanked him for his influence and inspiration.
He was sweet and thanked me. And then he asked:
As I did what I do in real life, talking myself in circles, he slipped the hilariously conspicuous “disguise” head piece onto his head.
And right about then, my alarm went off.
I hit snooze and tried to go back to dreamland. Alas, it was gone. All but that line:
The sentiment has stuck with me along with Psalm 100:1: “Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.” Take those along with the image of God as Loving Father, braid those three thoughts, and you have one of one of my deepest “faith roots.” It makes me smile to hear someone at church singing loudly off-key. (Often I’m just hearing myself.) It makes me think of how much I love to hear my children (neither of whom could be mistaken for members of the Von Trapp family) sing with abandon. I think their songs are something like what we give to God, when we sing with our hearts.
But I noticed that I haven’t really been singing lately. I mean, yes, I sing at church, along with the radio, and every word of “We Sing We Dance We Steal Things.” But I haven’t really been singing with intent, with my voice or otherwise. Really, my life has been a lot of humming lately.
I want to change that. I’m just not sure what song to sing.
So now, I ask you: