“That’s the Day that Leaves Fell Down in Denver,” to the tune of “That’s the Night that the Lights Went Out in Georgia” ;)
October 7 :: Kai and I picnic in the backyard. The leaves were changing color right before our eyes. However, the Aspens, just to the left – still green.
October 22 :: The yard is ablaze with every autumn hue.
November 8 :: Just another pretty (blue sky) day in Denver
But today…November 10th :: the north wind blows, the temp drops 30-degrees in a few hours and the flakes start to fall.
We hit our high of 64 degrees at about 7:30 am this morning.
The Aspen leaves, the last of them that have held on for all they’re worth, the ones that have waved at me happily with each gentle breeze as the sweetest autumn days have drifted by – they are getting kicked out on their butts! Today is the day, I am thinking.
I’d say the Aspens were at about 50% leafery (made-up word) on Saturday. But that harsh, cold, north wind (thanks a lot, North Dakota) is changing everything…wait…I just saw snowflakes…!!!
{Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr}
The BEST version of “Autumn Leaves” on the planet:
By the incredible, late Eva Cassidy. In honor of a wholly gorgeous 2014 fall season…This is the way I sing it around the house or at the keyboard. It is the MOST beautiful!
This weather re-cap has been brought to you by a woman who hates winter, but who lives in a wintry state.
Ay-yi-yi. Just clinging to my fair-weather memories.
Ruthie* was leading this when I walked in to Southlake Worship Center in Hobart, IN a few weeks ago. Even though I could only recall the last few words, I remember loving the gentle strength of the song’s lyrics, and the soulful melody – which remained with me.
Thanks to my godly, anointed and so-so-so beautiful sister-in-law, Dawn, for helping me find it. I love it even more in the re-listen. The Mountain of the Lord, Kim Clement
“‘Cause there is a place for those who are broken in the mountain of the Lord…”
“…you have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to countless thousands of angels in a joyful gathering.You have come to the assembly of God’s firstborn children, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God himself, who is the judge over all things. You have come to the spirits of the righteous ones in heaven who have now been made perfect.You have come to Jesus, the one who mediates the new covenant between God and people, and to the sprinkled blood, which speaks of forgiveness instead of crying out for vengeance like the blood of Abel.” Hebrews 12.22-24 NLT
My song for this day, a day the Lord has made.
***
*Ruthie was the cutest little girl, daughter of church leaders and powerful worship leading. I’d see her shining her light in the church hallways in the late 80s and early 90s while visiting my parents. Now she is a worship leader, and wholly anointed, bright light and powerful leader, still shining away!
Except, I do have thoughts. That is why – this blog. But sometimes life is careening with such force and speed, the thoughts, the observations and ideas – well, they just zoom on by and I can only retain the barest interpretation of them.
Such is this week.
I get so romantic about the autumnal season
Also the back yard yesterday. No kidding – I got to see all these colors including that Colorado blue sky!
I go out in the cool breeze of night and watch the leaves drifting down and start composing silly poetry in my head like this:
When the breeze picks up and the leaves fall down
And the Jack ‘O Lanterns are scowling all around town…
There is actually much more, and maybe one day I’ll share it with the grandbebes, but I’m no poet. I know it. ;) So for today, we’ll leave it here. Bet you’re wondering what was going to happen, aren’t you?
Which leads me to this question: Would Dr. Seuss be able to find a publisher these days? I mean – he just made up words to make them rhyme.
See how random things just barrel through?
The song of the month: Autumn Leaves {of course}
I love the song. I first loved the song, as a child, when I heard Roger Williams piano version (my Grandma gave me his album). To find it had actual words, not that many years ago, was a bonus. It was originally in French (1945), and all the greats have recorded it. Jo Stafford (one of my favs) was first, but then Edith Piaf (who did both an English and a French version), Diana Krall (she makes all songs amazing), Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, Jerry Lee Lewis, Eric Clapton – they all have recorded it. Eva Cassidy, too.
Kai did not want to model
And I have spent the entire month of October singing it and plunking around on the keyboard playing it. Rocky told me to come to his office and he’d play the guitar and mix my voice (read: tune me up and make me sound good) in his studio. But who has time for that? Neither he nor I.
I get more wordy and gooey each autumn
I have been blogging since 2006, so you’d think by now I wouldn’t have a clue what all I have said. But I always do recall, each fall, that I get a little more, shall we say, descriptive, come autumn. I become quite melancholy and overcome with passion for the season.
Proof:
I ponder autumn red, quote Marilyn Monroe and dissertate on being a woman in the autumn of her life. {{see here}}
In “Delicious Autumn,” I quote George Eliot and tumble head-over-heels into a sensory love affair with nostalgia – the sights, the smells, the tastes, the feels, the sounds of youth faded…while visiting my parents. Haha. {{see it here}}
I’ve often written about October being orange. But in looking back, I do also pay my respects to the reds of October. This one is an homage to red, to “a fully florid, cherry, sanguine scarlet. A puce, a rufescent russet, a bloody, blushing, gushing, infrared hot pink mixed with flaming chestnut and rubies and gleaming copper, all at once…shimmering and iridescent fuchsia, yet dense and heavy garnet, a ruby…bittersweet in both color and the evoking of raw autumn melancholy.” And etc! :){{see it here}}
Two years ago this very day, {{THIS}} was happening. The grandbebes and a little weather forecast. I remember that light, those leaves…
Oh, there are many more fall, autumn, October posts. Some November, too. And miles of words down roads of the romance of the season. But I’ll let this part go with those few examples.
I voted.
Oh how I love getting to vote in the convenient location of my home. And mailing it in…wait, did I remember to mail it? I will say that I wish I could change one of my amendment-issue votes because I researched a bit more later and I think I may have been…*w*r*o*n*g*!??
That is (1) highly unusual, and (2) growth for me…to think that I maybe/might have been/possibly was/super-small chance that I was ever-so-slightly wrong, but instead of demanding a fresh ballot, I’m just going with the flow. It is what it is. And really, in light of SO MANY OTHER PEOPLE VOTING WRONG ALL THE TIME, this one minor issue is of little consequence. Just kidding…about other people’s votes. Maybe.
So now, if all the political ads would kindly remove themselves from my presence. Thank-you very much.
Oh, and I won’t tell you how I voted. No. You couldn’t guess if you tried because I am an independent. Do not try to fence me in!
BUT if she wants to hire me for her campaign, “Carly Fiorina for President!” On women, 53% of voters: “We are not a special-interest, single-issue constituency. We are half the country.” up-project.org
I was in the country the other day
The burning bushes are on fire!
The cows were mooing and a tractor was motoring by. The smell of manure was in the air and a pretty gray cat with grass-green eyes came by to say hi {totally unaware that I am not a cat person, apparently}. The sun was sweet and you could see miles of mountains from there. And even though life was happening all around and “town” was just 3 miles away, it was quiet. So quiet. I think I was made for the country.
A {Country Baby} came to see me.
Sawyer with Guini and Gemma
Two of them in fact, with their parents. Sawyer and Wryder were here visiting from Holyoke. That is country. The term Country Baby comes from one of my fav old movies, Baby Boom, with Diane Keaton. Do you remember that movie? I think that is a good movie to watch near the end of October.
Arsenic and Old Lace
And always-always-always try to view Cary Grant in Arsenic and Old Lacenear Halloween. Because. Cary Grant. He is hilarious in it and scary-good-looking!
It s such a great old black and white flick!
I miss my mom over there in Hoosier-land.
I have been so busy I haven’t had a chance to tell you a million little details about my time in NW Indiana recently (in Chicago-land). It was so windy the last day there, but I held on to my mamala for dear life. In this photo I was thinking, “Oh I love her and I will miss her.” And I was so right. On both counts.
Since the Cardinals did not make the World Series, we are for the Kansas City Royals.
Got it? OK!
I love baseball. I miss my dad, too, because we watched a lot of baseball while I was there. But he can’t take seeing his teams lose, so we missed some great comebacks. Oh, pops. ;)Cardinals forever, anyway!
I threw caution to the wind and listed my Jeanie-green ornate, Baroque, Italianate, solid wood, custom-built green coffee table on Craigslist.
I think I am changing my mind. Because, I mean – even the paint was custom-mixed for ME, to match a sliver of a piece of one of the grandbebe’s art pieces. I don’t know if I can let it go?
A thought about relationships…
Tara brought me a bouquet of flowers just before my birthday, more than 2 weeks ago. It was a huge bouquet of purple lilies, hydrangea, lavender statice, various mums and Gerber daisies. Stormie brought me a big mums-filled bouquet a couple of days later, as seen on the coffee table, above (those fall mums will go on forever!).
At day 17, the purple bouquet from Tara – a third of its original size, yet still lovely.
I have never been one of those women who needs her husband to bring her flowers, though I enjoy the surprise of them, like anyone. I get joy from growing things in the ground.
But both of these bouquets made me so happy and are still bringing me a smiles, light, bright joyful remembrances of warm thoughts and pure love shown towards me.
And while a fresh bouquet is glorious, people often throw the whole thing away when a few of the buds begin to age or drop. But you miss something when you do that. There is still so much beauty there. Yes, the “fussier” parts of the bouquet are long gone. But in just the minute or so it takes me daily to tend to the arrangement, to remove drooping leaves or a dead-headed flower, then to snip the ends and add fresh water, in less than a minute, I have revived the bouquet. It looks a little different each time, some of the filler going away, but its beauty remains and I get to enjoy them much longer.
It is the same with the people we love and the relationships that mean something. Even if things are different now than they once were, a love or friendship worth having is worth tending regularly.
You could just let it go to waste, throwing away wilting expectations and brushing off the dust of disappointment. But you could also decide to spend just a few minutes tending and repairing, loving and caring. And in a very short time you might be made glad by the beauty of it again. Maybe it won’t look like what it once did, as busy and full, but that is OK, too, I think.
Love with all you’ve got while you can.
There are so many leaves falling in this post, you may have to rake now.
I shall bring this to close (I’m a preacher’s daughter and that’s what they all say), but of course, you NEED an autumn quote, yes? Then this, from F. Scott Fitzgerald, “Life starts all over again, when it gets crisp in the fall.” Remember, I told you? October is the new January!
Spotify says this one is from 1994, so that’s 20 years ago – good heavens! Kent is my all-time favorite worship leader. He blazed a trail in worship revelation and leading 30-40 years ago, but he has never stopped, he just keeps worshiping and leading people in to the Presence, year after year, decade after decade.
There is so much great musical worship out there, many new songs (Kent’s latest release: HERE). But every now and then – it is good to remember and some songs hold up over time and remind you of the good God has done over many years. I can recall what He was doing in my life when I was listening to these songs…
High and Lifted Up, For I know the Plans, The Repaired of the Lord (a spontaneous song of encouragement and promise), Burn it Deep (the reprise) – those are my favorites.
The promise in Jeremiah
As it happens, I caught a live-stream service from Summit Christian Center in San Antonio last night. Pastor Rick Godwin preached, “Good News in a Terrible Place.” It was about the conditions in which God’s people found themselves when that beloved and often-quoted prophetic scripture Jeremiah 29.11 came.
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. (Jeremiah 29.11 NKJV)
God’s people were in exile. They were in Babylon, a godless place and they were going to be there a long time, as per, you know – the God of the universe.
Rick said the truth is, being in exile is a regular part of the human existence and the word of the Lord to us is build houses and plant gardens and marry and live fully and dwell and increase in that place – in our Babylon, our place of exile. Because even there, especially there, God promises: I won’t leave you, I won’t quit using you and I won’t quit working in your life the way I have planned. Get used to it. You may be in Babylon a long time. But even there, there in your exile,
Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.I will be found by you, says the Lord… (Jeremiah 29.12-14)
So that passage wasn’t about being immediately rescued from a bad situation, but about God being there even in the situation – and using us in exile to bless the people and community and world around us!
So, take heart, friends and family. Exile doesn’t mean you’re washed up, used up, outside God’s will or out of His favor. It just means, He has put you {led you} in to the middle of a place (a Babylon) that needs His glory, His light and love to be shown and He will do that through you! This is good news in even the most terrible of places!
I was having this Technicolor dream the other morning – vivid, rich hues (slightly cross-processed) and warm, strong light. The greens were deep, the reds were pure, the grass was soft. The world was right.
*”There’s a light in the window and the table’s set in splendor, some one’s standing by the open door…” – Dottie Rambo
In the dream, to my left was a big white house with a wraparound porch. The driveway and street were lined with cars, trunks open, families packing up to leave what had been a loving and happy gathering. All around were my kids and their families. There was much hugging and kissing, so much peace and satisfaction and love flowing like wild water down the mountain in spring. It was going to splash you, love was!
I was on the front sidewalk playing with Kai, talking to him, singing him songs. Then I actually heard the sound of Rambo’s music coming from the direction of the house, like I would have heard it from the hi-fi growing up:
*”I can see the family gathered, sweet faces all familiar…”
I asked Malakai, in my dream, “Kai-Kai, wanna dance with me? Let’s dance!” He was wearing a little light-blue suit with a bow tie, barefoot. He wrapped his arms around my neck (he’s only 1 1/2), me on my knees, and I held him tight and we were swaying, laughing.
It was one of those utterly perfect moments.
Inexplicably, in my dream, in this happy, joyous, loving, golden-light space, I looked up while Kai and I were dancing and there was my {Uncle Bill}, smiling at us from across the sidewalk. At the exact moment, I realized my {Aunt Rosie} was on the front porch talking away, hugging people good-bye, passing out travel sandwiches. And then I realized, it wasn’t just Dave and I and our children and theirs, but my parents were there, too and my siblings and nieces and nephews and people I’ve known across the years and loved.
I should mention, specifically, that both my Aunt Rosie (my dad’s older sister) and my Uncle Bill (married to my dad’s younger sister) passed away years ago. So having them so sharply present was this really sweet and surreal moment.
The Rambo’s song was still playing in my ears as I woke up:
*”I can see the crystal river, I must be near forever…”
I must have been near forever, and it was perfect there, in this dream.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
I am not sure what makes us dream the dreams we do,sometimes; not sure what brings a person or place or thing into such expressive clarity as we sleep. Mulling it over later, I realized it may well have been the result of both missing Kai (he has had a busy summer) and my brother Joe mentioning getting us all together for Thanksgiving this year, a feat of gargantuan proportions, if it could ever, even happen.
But I am also working on the chronicles, the photo books and journals of our family’s lives. I have 33 years worth of pictures and keepsakes I am determined to date and organize. I am in a groove, currently. I pull out a photo box with one child’s name on it and sort them into the years of their living. Then I paste them on to pages with notes about the occasion and in an hour or two, I hold the evidence of one child or another of mine from birth to adulthood and it flies by so fast, my head spins. And yes, I cry sometimes, thinking, “Oh I wish I could have known how fast those fleeting days were going and slowed time down and held that little baby a little longer, cuddled that growing child, kissed those feet, tucked my daughters and son in to bed once more…”
I was a church-busy mommy in the 80s and 90s. And I can tell you that almost nothing else I ever did when my children were young has any meaning, comparatively. I hope that serves as caution to some one who is reading, to some one with babies who are wearing you out. They ARE the Important thing right now (I capitalized Important on purpose). Thirty years later, those grown children are all that matters. And you just hope you instilled what you really meant to instill somehow…
Geez, I didn’t know this was going to be so heavy. Sorry.
Today my parents are celebrating 57 years of marriage. They married at the age of 18 in 1957 and they have made it 57 years. And I can tell you that nothing is as important to them as family, either. They have invested so much of themselves in to churches and people and yet, I know I have a place reserved for me in their hearts. I know my well-being and life take precedence over the busyness of years gone by, God now restoring the years we may have lost along the way.
I am so blessed that I still have both of parents here. I mean, I am going to be 55 soon – and I still have mom and dad. How fortunate is that???
So, this song, The Living Years by Mike and the Mechanics, is the one I wanted to share on this beautiful Sunday. Because life gets busy. Life goes fast. I know when you’re young, you think there is so much more left ahead, and there is, but time doesn’t just fly these days. Time careens at breakneck speed, faster and faster and out of sight before you can get your bearings.
So, I look around and these are my living years. And they’re yours. And I have things to share and tell the people I love. I have conversations I don’t want to let slip by. I want my people to know I love them, even if and especially when we are not seeing eye to eye.
I want to spend my vitality on my children and theirs (thanks to Staci Eldredge for that terminology) and the people God has placed in my path ~ friends who have become family. I want to love and honor my parents for all I am worth because my perspective has been enlarged and as time slips away, so, too, do the demands I once wanted to impose relationally in my more self-absorbed youth.
The Living Years
Say it loud, say it clear You can listen as well as you hear It’s too late when we die To admit we don’t see eye to eye
When else can we do these things? We can only do them now, in the days we have.
“How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.” James 4.14 nlt
“…people are like the grass. Their beauty fades as quickly as the flowers in a field. The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah 40.6-8 nlt
*Dottie Rambo song lyrics, I’ve Never Been this Homesick Before
Just some of life’s goodness, odds and ends and blessings. A list.
1.
Ruby red grapefruit, all tart and tangy thrown into a bowl of brilliant, sweet, red watermelon for breakfast. Juicy, cold and delish! They make good bowl-fellows.
2.
Grand-girlies and bubbles. Or hopping into the pool and out again. Jump-jump-jumping on the trampoline. Swinging up in the air so high. Music and singing and more bubbles and chasing. Hair trains. Hair trains are wonderful.
hair-train (noun) // lining up like train cars to fix each others hair, first one direction, then the next; best when Nonna gets in on the action
3.
Frozen with the grand-girls, too. Because they sing every song, with heart and soul. And if you haven’t seen Frozen yet, don’t watch it with Amelie. She likes to tell what’s about to happen before it happens. She does it to be nice, so you’re not surprised. :)
4.
After dark trampoline jumping and singing theFrozen songs {again and again} at the top of your lungs. I hope the neighbors thought this was as great as I did.
5.
10 o’clock pm water-bottle bowling.
Here is how:
Get 10 water bottles and remove the labels.
Use food coloring to create various colors.
Throw a glow stick into the bottle and screw the lid back on very tightly. We used the glow-bracelets, which weren’t very bright. But I think glow sticks would probably be better.
Arrange bottles in a “pyramid” shape. 1 bottle, then, 2, then 3, then 4. You know how bowling pins are arranged, right?
Get a ball (we used a wooden croquet ball) for rolling.
Each player gets three rolls to knock them all down and keeps a tally of their own points (10 points per bottle down, a little math thrown in for good measure) and must show a little grace to a certain impetuous 4-year old {Amelie Belle} who may or may not choose to overhand throw the wooden balls with gusto, thereby winning every game with colorful, glowing water bottles scattered in her wake.
My camera couldn’t capture the prismatic fun after dark, but it was. Later the remnants, multi-hued water bottles, sparkled a reminder on a rainy afternoon:
6.
And tomatoes from the garden. It may be mid-August, but I am still utterly undone each time I cut in to one and taste this magnificent tang and sweet and depth and power of all of the summer rains and warm sunshine right there on my tongue. These garden tomatoes don’t even remotely seem related to the red things you buy in grocery stores or the anemic, transparent slices on a fast food sandwich. Not remotely the same.
These? These are all of heaven laser-beamed into a small fruit, the reward of a little sweat and patience, some love and desire culminating in the blood-red taste of life. The tomato.
You knew I had to mention the tomato, right? Because they are lovely!
7.
Finally? You know what is really lovely? {{*** Y O U ***}}! Thank-you, my children, my friends, my familia – anyone who happens by, for reading through my silly lists and observations and indulging my zeal for my grandchildren and tomatoes. These are such small, inconsequential things to discuss in light of the horrendous crimes being committed against children around the world, the wars and rumors of wars, the complete dishonor/disdain against life and the Creator of life. But these simple things remind me of Him, anyway.
God, help us. Make us grateful and make us see the injustices and take action against them, for the love of the simple and abundant life You have allowed us. God, show us how...
A really beautiful, fruitful garden takes time. It can’t happen overnight. It takes planning and planting and sunshine and rain. A fruitful garden must be tended…
33 Years in the Making
A marriage, a life, an enduring friendship, a love that lasts, a love that creates, a love that makes a place, a love that can still be silly, but wildly, seriously passionate, too. It takes 33 years to fall so hard, to break-up and make-up because there simply is no other there there. In good times, in bad…
It takes 33 years to have 5 kids and see them grow into human beings you find to be more fascinating than you can believe and to let them become, watching as bits and pieces of yourselves walk around the planet doing well – doing good, bringing glory to God by being who He made them to be. Thirty-three years.
It’s like a blip on the radar screen of time, but this time, our time, this love, our love, these days, our days – they have taken us 33 years to navigate, to tame, to experience, to taste, to cry over, to hold close, to run from, to do badly and to do well. In times of joy, and in times of sorrow…
It has taken us 33 years to get here. I…take you…to be my…
And oh yes, there have been bouquets of flowers and you’ve heard more of my laughter than anyone on earth ever will. And there have been love songs and passionate kisses and just plain times of sweet satisfaction with the life we have lived as honorably as we could and with the children we have raised and their children, now, too. For better…
But there have been agony and night seasons that sent friends fleeing for the hills and you have caught my tears and moved closer to bear my pain. And we have failed miserably sometimes as lovers, sometimes as parents, and as a family, and we’ve had to labor with intensity through great pain, harder than can be imagined, to repair the breeches, restore the losses. For worse…
It takes 33 years for this to be: for us to be us, for the children we raised to be the people they are, for 9 beautiful grandbebes to reward our fruitfulness with so much joy and delight. To have and to hold…
This blessed life was not built in a day, nor in the heated passion of our fall into deep love. It has taken 33 years of rights and wrongs, and good and not-so-good, but overwhelmingly lovely, oh-so-very lovely, love-filled days to get here, with you. For in the times there was nothing else to do, we have lived on love.
It’s taken 33 years for me to have more than I ever hoped or dreamed and more than I deserved. You are my home. Please keep me. :)For as long as we both shall live…
We are not of the “selfie” generation and it takes us 30 or so tries to get us both in the picture, centered and looking roughly the same direction. This was at Peaceful Valley in the Rocky Mountains last week.
Happy Anniversary to the father of my children, to my life, my love, my home, the man of my dreams, and my most trusted friend {a spot well-earned}. Thank-you for your faithfulness, your steadiness, your commitment to love even when it has been challenged, and for knowing who you are in Christ. You’re the strongest man I know.
“You are so handsome, my love,
pleasing beyond words!
The soft grass is our bed;
fragrant cedar branches are the beams of our house,
and pleasant smelling firs are the rafters.” Ecclesiastes 1.16-17 NLT
It took 33 years to create a home and garden so fine.
July 23, 1981 was a wonderful day to begin the work of love.
PS // Oh, and – I know this is a long, serious blog post. I could just as easily have said:Dear Dave, I love your brown skin and strong arms. Plus your gorgeous hair and incredible lips. I love having your body in the bed next to me night after night and that you and me got to make this sweet family and still get to make out anytime we want. Happy Anniversary, lover. Signed, Me ;)
To celebrate the anniversary of your birth, I have words…
Of course, I do. Many words. Still, some 12 years since we met, I am so grateful you married our daughter and became a son to us. She wasn’t the only deliriously happy person about that, you know. You were an answer to prayers and a fulfillment of hope and Tara’s dream come true. :)
If for no other reason than that you chose my firstborn and love her so deeply (and have blessed us with two spectacular grandsons), I’d think you were extraordinarily smart and wonderful.
But there are many reasons I love and admire you and my heart is tender towards you.
There have been incredible times since you became one of us, since the early days when we could suddenly be in the room with you: you, so well-liked, so sought after and admired and we could know, beaming with pride, he’s one of ours. You married the beautiful Tara and got the bunch of us, foibles and frailties and all. As mother-in-laws go, too many times, I haven’t been the one I had planned I’d be and for that, I apologize. I hope for all the times I have failed to encourage and bless you and for all the times I may still let you down in this winding path called life, you can find it possible to forgive me.
But I hope you do realize that I love and admire you and my heart is tender towards you.
Thinking about you turning 33 has had me reminiscing {of course}.
Three sweet memories on your 33rd birthday
1// I remember years ago, when your hair was longer, some person(s) started referring to you as a surfer-dude, which was a totally erroneous label just because you have the ability to adapt immediately to culturally distinct people groups, one after the other, rather effortlessly. But was a silly summation.
Because, like Paul the Apostle, you can be Greek to the Greeks and a Roman to the Romans, skater to the skaters, or mighty man of prayer among the intercessors. You are fluent in joy-speak and compassion-mixed-with-mercy is a native tongue for you. Because you’re able to adapt and flow as easily among Christian-magazine-produced minister’s meetings as you are with well-known rockers-saved-by-grace backstage at festivals, an old-timer mistakes you for merely a surfer-dude, with no offense to surfer-dudes.
It may have never bothered you a bit, but it irked me that you might be boxed in.
Because the point was and is – the apostolic anointing, the call. You fit. You have what it takes to be part of many groups and streams and situations. I so very much admire your courage and ability in this.
2// I was also remembering a late summer night in 2006 in a barn east of Brighton. It was a night of ordination, really, doors open wide and the warmth of God’s smile permeating the atmosphere. The sun dropped slowly giving way to twinkling stars signifying God’s good pleasure as rich worship rose heavenward. I watched as you and Tara, in almost a second wedding ceremony of sorts, the sacredness so palpable, became wholly united (one voice, one heart, one mission), stepping out from the safe into the holy wild. Worship and the Word Movement revealed.
And those of us in that barn that night, the small group of us privileged to stand on that holy straw-strewn ground, were witnesses to divine oil poured out from heaven. We were the yes and amen as we watched this man and this woman courageously say YES with everything they had and we stood in agreement and echoed from our hearts, yes, so be it, Lord.
You had already gathered the familia around your table a month earlier and we’d spoken blessing and prayed over you, then, for this movement-to-be. But the barn night, it was a night of nights, as we all watched you emerge, your voices blended, such power pulled from deep places of humility. You could practically hear a thunderous “This is my beloved Dave and Tara, in whom I am well-pleased.”
It was one of the most amazing and powerful nights I’ll live, I guess. I was so honored to get to be there, watching, pondering, treasuring the beauty of God’s call on you both, as one. So grateful I got to witness the birth of something of this magnitude, so full of favor.
Philippians 1:3-6 – “I thank God every time I remember you. In all my prayers…I always pray with joy…being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”
3// Then there was this festival we did together.
Man, those years meant so very much to me. In case I ever forgot to tell you or if time and circumstance has obscured the telling, thank-you for letting me be a part. I mean – God gave me something to share there, but how many men would be brave enough to let their mother-in-law be that close, anyway?
I love how God prepared me ahead of time {I still love the memory of the surprise of it} and you had the discernment to recognize and receive that and welcome me there. I will ever be grateful for that. It was the time of my life.
A blessing for you as we celebrate your life and look ahead this year…
And now, let me bless you and pray over you a little and impart some things I want you to remember. Is that ok? Let me assure you: I have asked God to edit me and I promise to do my best on letting Him! ;)
“Dave, may the Lord bless and KEEP you. May He make His face SHINE upon you and BE GRACIOUS to you; may the Lord turn His face toward you and give you PEACE.” (Numbers 6:24-26).
I bless your life, David Michael Powers. I bless the days He has planned for you and I thank God we get to be included in your fascinating so-many-cool-things-to-come story. How very wonderful for us! I bless the days we have known you so far {of course I do!} and all the ones we have left! You were uniquely crafted and specifically designed for God’s great purposes in these particular days on the earth. And to be in our familia. Now that is the coolest part!
I know God rejoiced when He was fashioning you in the secret place, and could not wait to celebrate and boast when you were born. Your parents both beam with delight when they are around you. I know they are soaking in the love of God in you, on you and through you! So I bless you to know {really know} the height, depth and breadth of His intense love for you – not for what you do or have done {as fantastic as it all is and will be}, but for who you are, as a man in his image and after His heart.
I bless your marriage to my lovely Tara-girl. She is the best thing I could ever give you. And we did so gladly present her to you at the front of that church as the setting sunbeams blazed through stained-glass windows but couldn’t hope to match the bright light of love passing between the two of you! There was not hesitation on our part in seeing her be joined to you, become one with you.
We raised Tara to be your wife, to love you, to walk in covenant with you. And we stood as witnesses that day to your marriage union and so we continue now to bless and pray protection over your marriage. We recognize what God has joined together and we pray that you are ever increased in love and oneness and laughter and mystery and discovery and romance and passion and friendship and rest. I pray that the wife of your youth will bring you joy and delight all the days of your life.
I bless you as a dad to the two magnificent grandsons you brought into my life {and God bless Hunter and Malakai!}. I pray that if there is any special grace or anointing or gift or heavenly blessing on my family of origin or me, that it be poured out on you and Tara and that through you it would be generationally passed on to Hunter-Magoo and Kai-Kai. Just the good stuff, though! :)
May each of your beautiful boys provide the opportunity for you to impart and teach and discipline and love and advise and find understanding about God’s heart towards you. And I pray you’ll have the wisdom to know how to bring them up, individually, to become the men God created them to be and that your ministry in your household will remain foremost in your heart.
And is it ok to say I am praying for increase and another blessed bundle of sweetness for you, too? Well, I am. Please do not refuse the gift of God in this area, and in fact: work for it! ;)
Worship. I bless your song, your music, your worship. I bless the psalmist in you that brings pleasure to the Father and Peace into the room. Your song opens many doors to many rooms and the song of the Lord, well, it is enemy-defeating, battle-winning treasure.
Word. I bless your leadership and pray you’ll be bold and humble and settled. I pray you’ll complete the things God started in you and through you. You have influence through your words of understanding. I remember seeing a glimpse in February 2003 and saying, “One day I’ll say ‘I knew him when..'” These are those days and I bless the work of your hands, the words of your mouth, and I pray that all the things you do and say in His name will bring God all the glory.
Movement. I bless you as a man of God, a man’s man, strong enough to be gentle. You have everything you need for the next step, the next rooms, everything. Hebrews 13:20-21 – “May the God of peace…equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.”
Finally ~ May you live securely and have full supply (full!). And may you be filled with the measure of all the fullness of God (can you even fathom what that will look like?). I pray your joy is full as you walk the steps God has ordered for you, that you are satisfied and content. But also challenged and surprised!
I pray these things with abandon, I bless you with all I have which is so limited, but also by all He is and all His promises, which are so limitless.
2 Timothy 2:1 – “You then, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.”
And the birthday guy sings…
He’s one of my all-time favorites. Ever!
I started cautiously liking you from the time we met (May 2002, Could he be for real, I wondered?). Then, very quickly, my admiration grew and I loved you deeply. I still do and my heart is very tender towards you. Always will be. On the occasion of the celebration of your birth {Happy Birthday!}, just wanted to say so. {mom}
“Spring, being a tough act to follow, God created June.” ~Al Bernstein
Happiness in the house::Just some yard trimmings: Peonies, Scented Geraniums, and Russian Sage. Even the fading blossoms are magical in June…
Rascal Flatts even sang about June: Words I Couldn’t Say
“In a book in a box in the closet / In a line in a song I once heard / In a moment on a front porch late one June / In a breath inside a whisper beneath the moon…”
June makes me romantic and hopeful. June is for falling in love. The Blue Hour holds tight to the June sky for all it’s worth, the sun regretting the end of such a perfect day. Dogs bark in the distance, neighbors scuffle by, safe under soft-blue June skies. Flowers tease then bloom in wild profusion, scented and heady, and oh-so-glorious. Every June I feel a little intoxicated by the power of the garden renewed, the soil, the sun, the heat, the long days that twinkle into sweet nights where you drive with the windows down and sing the love songs of youth. I do love me some June.
And how about my newest garden-girl?
She loves grass and I love her!
That Summer
by Sam Hogin, Phil Barnhart, Sunny Russ (performed by Lisa Brokop)
Love was alive on the telephone line
Honeysuckle hangin’ in the hot sunshine
Dust piled up on my daddy’s combine
That boy, that girl, that summer
Thirsty for somethin’, they didn’t know what
Tried to control it but they couldn’t stop
She was his rose, and he was her rock
That moon, that kiss, that summer
June and July and an August to remember
Ninety miles an hour straight into September
Memory still warms me in the dead of winter
Of love so true that summer
Two kids from Kansas on a yellow brick road
Watchin’ the world through a magic window
There wasn’t anyplace they couldn’t go
That hope, that dream, that summer
June and July and an August to remember
Ninety miles an hour straight into September
Memory still warms me in the dead of winter
Of love so true that summer
June and July and an August to remember
Ninety miles an hour straight into September
Memory still warms me in the dead of winter
Of love so true that summer, that summer
Love was alive on the telephone line, that summer
Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time by Rob Sheffield
I am enthused about a book right now.
The Back Cover:
Mix tapes: Stick one into a deck and you’re transported to another time in your life. For Rob Sheffield, author of Turn Around Bright Eyes that time was one of miraculous love and unbearable grief. A time that spanned seven years, it started when he met the girl of his dreams, and ended when he watched her die in his arms.
Using the listings of fifteen of his favorite mix tapes, Rob shows that the power of music to build a bridge between people is stronger than death. You’ll read these words, perhaps surprisingly, with joy in your heart and a song in your head—the one that comes to mind when you think of the love of your life.
You can’t get the book at the library right now. Because some one else has it. ;)
He is a lots-of-fun-words {funnier observations} kind of writer, so highly quotable. I melted to the floor when I saw that he used “epiphanic” twice (so far, I am not done reading yet) because no one I know {except me, see herein 2010 and here in 2008} uses that word (is it a word? WordPress does not think so…) and I was SO happy. I mean – I am a blogging-Nonna, a plain ol’ person. He is a BEST-SELLING AUTHOR! And we used the same word. Yeah-I am getting carried away.
But suffice it to say I love his words and the way he stacks them and strings them and draws me right into sound of the life he describes. And his words about music and song, emotion and relationship, and just life, really – ohmygoodness! LOVE.
Some of the mixes he shares, I am like, “Oh yes – best music ever.” Others, I have no idea and nor would I, as, whilst he was living and listening and loving it, I was this very serious pastor’s wife with very small children’s whose ears would had to have been covered to listen to it. A lot of 90s rock, alternative, f-word stuff. But, ya know. Still loving the story!
One Amazon reviewer of this book spoke of people who had never made a mix tape for some one, people for whom music is just background noise. He referenced them as people having no soul. I am inclined to agree.
So, if you love songs, if there is a tune for every person, place or thing in your life, nearby or loosely associated, a melodic memory groove in any way, shape or form and if you have indeed made or been the recipient of a mix tape: READ Rob Sheffield’s book!!!
Moo.com
I wish I could have these very business cards. They are at Moo.com and are a variety of cassette images on one side, and the back is fashioned to look just like the enclosure card! They call them, “I made you a mix tape.” LOVE!
I wish I were a singer or managing singers or some wildly important industry-type or something fabulous like that so having these would totally make sense! I. Love. Them!
~~~~~~~~~
Answer: Because a song stays with you, cutting a path to remembrance deep in your heart and soul in a way you will never forget.
[Hum Jeopardy song here…]
Question: Why did God communicate His very important message to the children of Israel through Moses and Aaron by song?
Deuteronomy 32 // Moses…spoke all the words of this song in the hearing of the people. When Moses finished reciting all these words to all Israel, he said to them, “Take to heart all the words I have solemnly declared to you this day…They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Would you even be surprised to know…
That I have cassette-tape gift wrap on hand for special occasions?
That I still make mix tapes all the time via Youtube and Spotify??? It is so much easier now to go to YouTube and make a playlist of Patridge Family songs {don’t judge me} or even a Motown mix, or Billie Holiday. As kids, making a mix tape meant listening to the radio and waiting until you heard the song you loved coming on, then pushing record as fast as possible. It also meant that if your mom came in and said to clean your room while you were recording – you’d forever hear that, too.
That1974 is one of my all-time favorite years for music (because I was in love with love and love runs as a certain theme through the top 100 that year, as it does most years) and coincidentally is the same year I got my first cassetterecorder? Oh. blessed cassettes, how I loved thee. Before that, I was using a miniature reel-to-reel. Yes, they had those in the olden days.
That I have an entire folder in my laptop pictures file devoted to images of old cassettes and that I have 32 drafts of songs I plan to write about on this very blog and have used said images for those posts?
Probably not a bit surprised, are you? Reading this Rob Sheffield book has just confirmed to me that my zealous love of song and ability to recall every detail of the circumstance during which the song became important to my very existence is, well, maybe not normal, but certainly…acceptable.
And now, of course, I just put together a little mixed tape for you. I call it 1974, which was a very good year!
I am sure I will add to it, but for now, it has 53 songs for a nice 3 hour and 9 minute listening experience.
What? You don’t have Spotify yet? RUN, don’t walk – go get it. It’s like having all of iTunes available to you – for FREE!
#tbt Throw back Thursday
Me (and my little brother, Tim) in 1974, of course.
Worship Leading-also a mix tape
And while we’re on the topic – it occurs to me that putting together a worship set for a Sunday morning service is sort of putting together a mix tape experience, right? A little Matt Redman, a little Chris Tomlin, some Hillsong and a good dose of Jesus Culture. Bam!
And what the heck – family is a mix-tape, too, right?
If, as Wikipedia describes it, a mix tape is a name given to a compilation of songs recorded onto any audio format, then, I count my family. They are my song of life and they are most certainly an audio-audible, boisterously loud-with-the-sounds-of-living lovely recording.
Yes, if love is a mix tape, then family is a mix tape, too and the titles and artists are as follows: my Dave;Tara and Dp, Hunter and Malakai; Stephanie and Tris, Gavin, Guini and Gemma May; Tredessa and Ryan and baby Evangeline; Rocky and Jovan, Averi, Amelie Belle and baby Bailey; Stormie; my parents, my siblings, my nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles and grandparents and great-nieces and great-nephews and all the people I came from and all those who are still to be – we are a pretty amazing mix, I think. :)
It’s Thursday. I love Thursdays.
I will be exactly where this picture was taken, oh yes!
We have made it people – the pool is up for the season and another weekend is in sight! I shall be in Estes Park for three days with some of the most fantastically beautiful women on the planet (5 friends, 1 niece, 2 great-nieces and a sister-in-law). I hope I soak in a little bit of each them and come home a more wonderful person than ever. It could happen. :)
And very good advice. You are enough. Not just because I say so – but because God made you so uniquely, wonderfully, creatively and awesomely in His very image. That HAS to be good. So, kick insecurity to the curb!
