Psalm 22 - Harmonic Communication

I heard music being described as the harmonic connection between all human beings. I guess that is true because I don’t know anyone that doesn’t love or at least appreciate music in some way. Most people even enjoy making music, even if it is just a solo concert in the shower. Life itself is often defined by music. Moments are etched in time because of a particular song that was playing that will forever bring that moment to our remembrance whenever it is played. Music becomes the soundtrack of our life. There are songs that can evoke smiles and others that bring tears. We identify with the heartbreak and the ecstasy of the artists. They have defined our moments in words penned exactly as we would have written them. I have friends that are incredibly gifted and I am in awe of their ability to translate their heart to words and melodies….music. I am dependent upon the words and melodies of others to express my heart. I started thinking about this the other day when I heard a song that I have come to view as one of the songs that I would have loved to have been written for me.

Hey there, Delilah

What's it like in New York City?

I'm a thousand miles away

But girl tonight you look so pretty

Yes you do

Times Square can't shine as bright as you

I swear it's true

Hey there, Delilah

Don't you worry about the distance

I'm right there if you get lonely

Give this song another listen

Close your eyes

Listen to my voice it's my disguise

I'm by your side

Hey there, Delilah

I know times are getting hard

But just believe me girl

Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar

We'll have it good

We'll have the life we knew we would

My word is good

Hey there, Delilah

I've got so much left to say

If every simple song I wrote to you

Would take your breath away

I'd write it all

Even more in love with me you'd fall

We'd have it all

A thousand miles seems pretty far

But they've got planes and trains and cars

I'd walk to you if I had no other way

Our friends would all make fun of us

and we'll just laugh along because we know

That none of them have felt this way

Delilah, I can promise you

That by the time we get through

The world will never ever be the same

And you're to blame

Hey there, Delilah

You be good and don't you miss me

Two more years and you'll be done with school

And I'll be making history like I do

You'll know it's all because of you

We can do whatever we want to

Hey there, Delilah, here's to you

This one’s for you

This song makes me wish that my name contained three syllables. To have someone feel that way about you and immortalize it in a song for posterity…how could your heart not just melt! That started me thinking about my all time favorite songs that melt my heart. I am, after all, an incurable romantic…right down to the chick flicks that are a staple of my DVD collection. So, here are a few of my favorites…

I’ll Be by Edwin McCain
Have I Told You Lately by Van Morrison
Lovesong by The Cure

All classics, these fall into the same category as Hey There, Delilah. These contain the perfect promises of undying love that any girl would want bestowed upon her. Rod Stewart obviously knew that when he covered Van Morrison’s lyrics and 311 recently resurrected the beautiful sentiments in Lovesong.

I Shall Believe by Sheryl Crow
Collide by Howie Day
Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

I love these for their hope despite improbability and imperfection. Love is sometimes unpredictable.

Everything by Lifehouse

This song melts my heart, but basically for a different reason. Ironically I first heard this song as the background music in a tender scene on a TV show. The words caught my attention because I remember thinking that the love being described was impossible on human terms. It could only be the expression of a grateful heart to an Almighty God. Basically, a love song to God.

Music is never static. It is constantly evolving and I look forward to the next song written that harmonically communicates and resonates with my soul as these have. I am not going to hold my breath because I don't think that there will ever be a "Hey There, Joyce".
I am sure that it is just because there are not enough syllables in my name.
I did once have a song "given to me" by a guy...the problem was Brown Eyed Girl didn't really resonate because if he had looked closely he would have discovered that my eyes are actually hazel.

Psalm 21 - Shattered Glass

Usually words are my picture. But, today the words seem to elude me. I think it is because growing up expressing my feelings was forbidden. They were to remain hidden, locked inside, so as to preserve peace at all costs. Now unlocking those doors seems a luxury and one that requires a key that is only obtained when fear is conquered. So, for today I will use these images to paint the picture that I don’t feel permission to express….




Perhaps tomorrow holds this….

Psalm 20 - Since You Asked...

The following were questions that were asked of the musical guests for the Youth Specialties Convention this coming Fall. I imagine the purpose was for people to get a better understanding of who they were beyond what people see on stage. Since my blog is basically for that purpose as well…at least it would be if I actually told anyone that I had a blog…I thought I might as well answer the questions too. I mean, I can give useless trivial information that no one really cares about as well as the next person.

As a teenager, who was the biggest influence in your life and in what ways did he/she influence you?

I think that there were two people. One was my grandmother who protected my heart in ways that she will never know. Being my Dad’s mother, she was the one person who could intercede on my behalf against his injustices. I only wished that I had not been separated from her by our move to Arizona when I was 8. The other person was my Sunday School teacher at Bethany Bible Church, Mrs. Slenski. She was faithful to “mother” me spiritually. Her prayers, teaching and affirmation drew me to a clear understanding of what a personal relationship with Christ entailed. My spiritual journey began in her class and continues to this day because of her faithful influence.

Right now, who is the biggest influence on your creativity, thinking, theology or life and how is that influence being played out in your life?

Hummm….right now? Honestly, it is a friend and it is being played out as their influence is allowing me to discover the truth of who I truly am and I am growing through their encouragement to not fear what I was created to be and do.

Who would you like to wrestle?

That depends. For what purpose?

If you could have dinner with anybody who is alive today, who would that be and why?

Whoever it was I would want it to be a one on one conversation because I can get lost in a crowd and I would love their undivided attention. Maybe Billy Graham, but I think I might be too intimidated even though I imagine he is so incredibly gracious and humble. I think I would enjoy dinner with David Crowder because his brain is crazier than mine and I love his music, but he might intimidate me with his razor sharp wit. Perhaps, Shane B for a quiet heart to heart in one of those private booths at The Melting Pot or dessert in the revolving restaurant downtown.

If you could have dinner with anybody in history (not counting Jesus) who would that be and why?

King David because in spite of his imperfections he was described as a man after God’s own heart. I identify with that, plus his prolific writing and his love of music. We could have a harp and tambourine jam.

What drives you crazy?

Chaos…malls during Christmas shopping season….rude people…rush hour traffic…being late for a movie, I have to be there when it starts….people leaving your life, no, that hurts my heart….

Give me three words that describe you?

Honest, compassionate, introspective

With money not being an issue, describe your perfect vacation.

If money were not an issue then I would want to be able to have a different experience yearly. I don’t think that there would be just one perfect vacation. There are too many amazing places out there that I would love to experience. For lodging I love to spend time researching to find the most uniquely quaint bed and breakfasts or resorts wherever I plan to visit. I have to admit that I love comfort, and I really like to be clean, so wherever I end up at night I need a shower and a comfortable bed. I love to find restaurants that are favorites of the locals. I love the beach, so a pristine tropical isle with a room that opens to the ocean would be amazing. But then again, how fun to stay in a 5 star hotel with a view of the city in Manhattan, take a walk through Central Park, attend a Broadway show and then have ice cream at Serendipity. I have spent time on an island off of the coast of Vancouver. British Columbia and it is gorgeous. I would love to find an amazing resort or bed and breakfast on Vancouver Island. I would love to give Quebec City another try. Wherever I am, I prefer to be able to communicate…and I only speak English….unless whoever I am with is braver than myself! Honestly, for me who I am with makes all of the difference as well. Everything is twice as enjoyable shared.

What is your favorite catch phrase?

Whatever….

Choose one from each pair:
Coke or Pepsi – Pepsi, and I can pass the taste test!
Beach or Lake – Beach
Dog or Cat – Dog, one that doesn’t shed.
Italian food or Mexican food – Yes, please!
Deciduous or Coniferous – Deciduous, even though I don’t want to rake the leaves…I love the colors of fall.
Pierce or Tattoo - Pierce
Scrunch or Fold – Definitely fold…unless it is hair. I used to scrunch that.

Psalm 19

I’ve never really enjoyed jig saw puzzles. Those 1000 piece puzzles where all of the colors and shapes start looking alike drive me crazy, plus for me they take forever. I don’t enjoy having something “unfinished” spread out all over a table for weeks on end waiting to be solved. It feels and looks like a mess to me and I don’t enjoy the clutter. Plus, when and if you do finish the puzzle, it bothers me that the picture is marred with all of the connection lines from the individual pieces. The frustrating part to me is finding a piece that is the right color and seeming correct shape only to discover that it doesn’t quite fit. At that point my frustration level leads me to just pound that “sucker” in till it does fit. Then, what do you do with it? You simply pull it apart and put it back in a box on a shelf. Obviously, you are now saying…whoa….way too obsessive! Get over it, just stay away from jig saw puzzles…simple solution. You are right….but, at times life feels like my own personal jig saw puzzle and I can’t just throw it back in the box and put it on the shelf. I am in it for the long haul. I totally believe that my God is in control and knows exactly how the pieces of my life fit perfectly together. My frustration with that is I don’t always know. I know the process has a purpose, but I don’t always enjoy the process. It is like the lyrics from a song by The Fray. “Sometimes the hardest things and the right things are the same.”

Sometimes I just cry out to Him and say, “Can’t you just tell me which piece to put in now so I can move on?” I keep trying pieces that just don’t fit. They seem so right, but for some reason they just don’t work out. Then there are other pieces laying there that are perfect, they are an obvious fit to the puzzle of my life. But, I can’t put them in yet because the pieces that join them to the rest of the picture aren’t in place yet. I have those pieces in my life now…sitting…waiting. I look at those pieces and I am just so anxious to get them in place. I know they fit. They are beautiful; they are the perfect shape and color for this picture of my life. Sometimes I get really scared that I will loose those pieces, that they will disappear or go away. I don’t want to take matters into my own hands and out of my impatience with the process “pound them into place” too soon. I just want to get to enjoy the picture, or at least enjoy the part of the picture that contains those pieces. In the meantime, I will anxiously anticipate that moment when I finally get to place those beautifully treasured pieces into the puzzle called my life. At that point I won’t even notice all of those connection lines that seemingly marred the picture because I will be immersed in the enjoyment of the fulfillment of a dream.

Psalm 18

I bought a standing mirror the other day. I needed, well actually, I wanted one that would match the oil rubbed bronze fixtures in the décor of my new bedroom. Plus, I needed a stand alone magnifying mirror for the purpose of make-up application. It has a magnifying strength of 7X. At that strength things are brought into focus that I am not sure that I really want to see! I don’t think that I am too different from most people in that when I look in the mirror I have a tendency to focus on all of the imperfections….all of the things that I would change if I truly could. We use makeup as a tool to enhance, hide or fix the image that we see. That got me thinking about seeing myself clearly, not just that image in the mirror, but deeper…the part of me that I really want people to see and “value”. That word, “value” resonated with something inside of me. It touched a deep pain that has lingered for years hidden deep within. Maybe I equate it with being loved. I know that I don’t always see anything special, anything to really be “valued” about me…so could it be that I don’t really feel loved or perhaps I don’t really even know what it looks like. I saw it out there in the ways that people would relate to one another, but it just wasn’t part of my own personal experience. My reality didn’t match. I had a roof over my head, I was fed, I didn’t come from a divorced family….so I must be “loved”….right? But do those things shelter your heart and feed your soul? I am struggling for words because this is something that is still being uncovered, something that I don’t yet fully understand but that I want to grasp so that the image that I see reflected will be a correct representation of who I am.



I had an amazing conversation with a friend who always brings thoughts into focus in my life. This friend is constantly challenging me to have a correct view of who I am. They are like a mirror to my soul. Sometimes I wish that I could see me through their eyes, maybe I would see things differently. What do they see that I have been unable to? I know the truth of scripture. I know we are all valued by God…we are His workmanship, made in His image, perfectly knit by Him for His purposes. That should be enough. But is it wrong to want to be valued by others? To feel like who you are matters enough that if you were gone that you would be missed? To feel like your presence makes a difference in someone’s life? To believe that you have something unique to offer? To believe that you have value not just to God, but value here on this earth? They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Both windows and mirrors are made up of glass, and yet have completely different usages. Windows are for the purpose of seeing out, for seeing what is beyond. Mirrors are for the purpose of seeing our reflection. The coating on the back of the mirror prevents us from looking beyond and forces us to see our image clearly, especially when it has a strength of 7X. We may see it clearly, but do we see it correctly? I think there is a big difference. How do you learn to see something correctly? More importantly, how do you learn to see who you truly are correctly and be OK with that? Without mirrors we would have no idea what we looked like unless someone standing in front of us described what they saw. Then, unless they know you really well, they would only give a physical description. It is only those who deeply know us that can see beyond the external to describe who we really are. These deep seeded friends serve as both our mirrors and our windows. They can be our mirrors when we have trouble seeing who we really are. They can give clarity when there is confusion. If all we had were mirrors though, we would become incredibly self absorbed. Windows are important for us to see beyond ourselves. They allow us to see the big picture and to dream. Our friends can also be our windows. They can remind us of our potential. They can encourage our dreams and even dream with us. It is hard to look out the window when we have not first fixed the distortion we see when we look in the mirror. I have come face to face with that…

Psalm 17 - Clanging Cymbals

We make a living by what we get.

We make a life by what we give.

It was just a quote penned by someone to sell a poster. It’s catchy. It’s cliché. It’s simplistic. It’s a Hallmark card. Yet it still made me stop and think….probably because that was where I was at on that particular day. I was evaluating giving….not just money, but my time….my heart….me. It is true; I go to my job and work to provide for the basic necessities of life. It is a bonus when we are fortunate enough to have a job that we enjoy so much that we could say that we would actually do it even if no pay were involved. Those dream jobs vary from person to person based on their individual talents and interests. I think of professional musicians and athletes and inventors. Still, most toil daily at something less than their passion because they have to make a living. They have to pay the bills. We can work as much or as little as we like based on what we consider the necessities of life to be. For some, it is just the basics of shelter, food, transportation. For others it is much more. How much of that income we keep for ourselves and how much we give away is based on our values as well. That is an easy call for me most of the time, but I will admit that I like to be comfortable. So, I would have to say that I am probably more selfish than I would like to believe. We/I do make a living by what we/I get. The second part doesn’t say we make a life by how much we give away….but it says by what we give. Obviously if someone’s basic needs are not being met we would want to help monetarily if we are able, but is that all it says? It would be all too easy to throw a few dollars someone’s way, call it a day, and go back to my comfortable home with a fully stocked refrigerator in my 2007 Caliber. It isn’t the fanciest of homes or the most expensive of cars by choice because I do want the opportunity to “give” some away. Yet, I have always believed that to invest in someone is more than giving them money…it involves a commitment to them of ourselves which involves a gift of time and love. I’ve been weighing the cost of that. When you give money away and it goes unappreciated or possibly is misused it is frustrating, but you know that there will always be that next paycheck. It is not that big of a deal. But, when you give of yourself….your heart….when that is abused or unappreciated or rejected even…that rips a piece of you away. How do you get that back? Do you just become hardened so that you avoid feeling? Do you run or put up walls around your heart so that you avoid the possibility of pain? Do you allow yourself to become angry and bitter? Do you begin to selfishly give just to get? Because if that is the case then that is more about you than the person that you are choosing to invest in! I guess as I have been evaluating my life I am trying to figure out how to give and specifically how much to give. Is it possible to give too much? And how much is too much anyway? Wouldn’t that be a value judgment based on capacity? We may have a limited resource in time…but love, shouldn’t there be an endless supply of that? That isn’t something that can be hoarded or stored up. As I considered how painful that process has been at times I remembered how many times I have just wanted to run, how many times I have wanted to just give up, how many times I have questioned the saying, “It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all”. (Yeah, right…) Then I remembered this metal heart that I have on the wall in my guest bathroom. On it is the text from I Corinthians 13

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

I think that is what it really is all about. I know that I make mistakes in loving. I haven’t figured out how to always do it perfectly…and everyone views and receives it differently. Besides this kind of love doesn’t come from me…it is of divine origin and I am only the conduit. Still because the vessel it comes through is imperfect, even though the love itself is perfect because of its origin, it is at times imperfectly given. Yet, I hope that at the end of my life if nothing more is said about me it will be that the fruits of the labor of my life, at least for the most part, was characterized by patience, kindness, humility, gentleness, forgiveness, selflessness. That those who knew me felt protected, trusted me, were encouraged by my presence and knew that I was always there for them. There was a song that I used to sing in the band that had as part of the lyrics, “Love wasn’t put in your heart to stay. Love to be love must be given away.” I Corinthians 13 concludes with what I think is the best summary of what we give to make a life…not just a living. “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

Psalm 16 - Lofty Visions

I recently wrote about my dream house, the one nestled on a hill overlooking a pristine secluded beach with majestic ocean views. That has always been the house which inhabited my dreams…the one I retreated to in my imaginary perfect world. Recently I was watching HGTV’s House Hunters. I have no idea why watching people choose between three houses is so fascinating to me, but I will pry my eyelids open at 11PM most nights just to tour their choices and try and guess which home they will choose as their dream home. This particular episode featured a couple searching for a condo or loft in the Pearl District of Portland, Oregon. As I became immersed in their possibilities, I found myself formulating the beginnings of my second dream home. I never viewed myself as an urban dweller necessarily. Maybe that was because the crime, congestion, crowded spaces and cacophony of noise which defined city life to me just weren’t appealing. My curiosity with this alternate living situation was tweaked a few years ago when I had the opportunity to spend a couple of evenings in a loft style condo in Phoenix. I was surprisingly drawn to the clean lines, the open feel, the high ceilings, the idea of an outside seating area overlooking the city, the incredible views and interestingly enough I was intrigued with a whole different style of architecture than I had been exposed to previously. But there was much that I would have done differently and so it just remained tucked away as a seed of possibility….forgotten….untended…..until HGTV watered the memory and the seed began to grow into a dream. I think one of my favorite unexpected delightful treats was the night that I spent in a hotel in Dallas, Texas, during a YS convention. I had a room all to myself on something like the 26th floor that overlooked the city. I loved relaxing and being lost in my thoughts at the end of the day while looking at all of the lights left on in the surrounding buildings from my darkened room. It felt like my very own “window on the world”. It brought to my remembrance being a little girl looking at the lights from a lookout point at the top of South Mountain and pretending that all of the lights were jewels….emeralds, rubies, diamonds, topaz, sapphires. No amethysts….there aren’t a lot of purple lights! So, now my mind began to formulate my grown-up urban dwelling. Not just any urban setting would do, but one that was filled with specialty shops and stores owned by those passionate about their wares much like the little neighborhood bookstore that Meg Ryan’s character owned in the movie “You’ve got Mail”. The store front, the set up of the shop…everything about it invited you to casually browse through the shelves looking for that perfect next read. As much care was given to the atmosphere of the shop as the product that was offered for sale. This neighborhood would be a perfect setting for the music store that I have dreamt about and that I described in a previous journal. From my wrap around terrace I would be able to view not only the city lights, but also the flower filled park across the street that formed an oasis in the middle of the “concrete jungle” of the city. There are trees, but they are far enough away and my home is high enough that they don’t obstruct the view…but rather enhance it with green….my favorite color. It also affords a barrier of protection that ensures no eager entrepreneur will construct a high rise directly across from me that would destroy my perfect view. During the day one would also be able to see the river winding its way through the edge of town. Inside I am drawn to the clean lines that seem to match the linear construction of the architecture of the cities high rises. The furniture is more modern than I have been attracted to in the past, but comfortable still reigns, and it seems at “home” in this setting. I can, after all, retreat to my beach home of “California casual” when the mood so strikes. So, as I continue to dream I will leave you with a few snapshots of my lofty vision from my mind’s eye. Enjoy the view!!

Psalm 15 - Vacant Chair

I was sitting in church last week and two rows in front of me I saw my past. No, I wasn’t delusional. I wasn’t hallucinating. I saw five girls, five young girls, all in their early to mid twenties, all part of our worship community at Open Door. They are being given the opportunity to express and use their gifts in music. They sing…beautifully. Their hearts are directed towards expressing their love to God through worship of Him. The vehicle that facilitates that for them is their voices. I watched as they enjoyed worshipping Him together. They purposed to be there to worship Him and they purposed to be together to worship Him. That was once me and that was once my friends. There was a bitter sweetness in realizing that there no longer was anyone next to me, figuratively or literally. The chairs on either side of me sat vacant…available. Things change. Passions change. People move on. It is good and right that the next generation have the opportunities that we/I have had. I realized that by the age of the youngest of them, I had already been in a band for probably 4-5 years. My season in the band ended by age 26. That is still young. My journey as a Mom started then and my music took a backseat for the duration of my “Mom” years. I have had many years of pursuing my heart and passion and expression of music through singing on the worship team in a supporting role. Through these years I have seen my peers gradually move on. I am not sure to what always. When I was little I used to think that when I grew up that I would “grow into” what I thought was adult music and that is how things changed and moved on. At some point I would be listening to Perry Como, Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, you know the music that “big people” listened to. That never happened. My music grew with me. In fact, my music keeps evolving. Sometimes I feel like I am a displaced person because I don’t continually tune into the “oldies” station or “classics”. I enjoy the freshness of music as it evolves. I want to believe that the best is really yet to come for me. Moving on implies that you are moving TO something else. I don’t want to be stagnant and I don’t want to live in the past and I definitely want to give opportunity to the next generation to pursue their passions. I am still waiting for what that something else looks like for me. I do know that it doesn’t mean that I have to sit around reminiscing about the past, singing songs considered “classics” or “oldies but goodies”, ordering from the senior’s menu, and becoming a spectator in life. I just don’t know yet what it does mean. In the meantime I will trust that the chairs beside me won’t remain vacant forever.

Psalm 14 - Beaches, Oceans and Dreams

I’ve never lived near the ocean. In fact, I live in the desert. So, why does it beckon me like it is “home”? It took me years to be able to call Arizona home. I was born in the Midwest and yet was uprooted to the arid confines of the southwest as a young girl. Every summer we would make the trek back to the heartland of America to visit all that we had left behind in my Dad’s quest to start life over. It never felt fair that his decision to need to “begin again” necessitated me giving up everything that felt comfortable and familiar….friends, family, green, trees, the smell of newly mown grass, the fresh smell of summer rains, lightning bugs, seasons, snow, the fourth of July with sparklers and home fireworks…all of that good stuff. So, for years I would refer to Illinois as “back home”. Now that I no longer refer to those roots as home, for some reason I have that same sense of “going home” when I visit the ocean.

I love walking the beach and feeling the sand being pulled out from underneath your feet as the tide ebbs and flows. I love that the crash of the waves drowns everything else out but the sound of my thoughts as I mentally process life. I am energized by the cool breeze as I just lay on my towel on the beach. I can lay there for hours listening to music lost in my own world, outlasting even my sunscreen and the batteries in my IPOD. I love walking piers. In fact, one of my favorite places to eat is Ruby’s Diner on the end of the pier in Huntington Beach. There is really nothing special about the food, it is all about the environment. I love being able to eat, watching the ocean, without ingesting sand at the same time! I save the bonfires, not necessarily for eating, but for just the perfect ending to a perfect day. There is nothing more beautiful than watching a sun set over an ocean. The colors are majestic and so captivating to me that I think I have every conceivable picture of ocean sunsets in my image file. When I dream about my perfect house, it is always a home set on a hill overlooking a secluded section of beautiful sandy beach with majestic views of the oceans. There are windows galore in every room so that I can do everything with an ocean view….eat, sleep, bathe, sit by a fire, watch TV, listen to music…..everything with an ocean view. Of course, in my “dream” world somehow my windows are always sparkling clean and free of all that salty sea residue! There is a path leading from the back porches through the gently sloping green grass of my backyard down past the rock breakwater with a short, easy climb down to the white, clean, sandy beach. I even have this amazing wooden staircase down through the rocks, of course perfectly weathered, that allows for easy access to the beach even in the darkening hours of dusk. Ideally, there is beach glass and shells that wash ashore but the beach is free of human litter, broken glass, and cigarette butts. From outside I can smell the salty, fresh smell of the ocean and feel the cool ocean breeze from either my porch swing hanging from the rafters of my back porch or from the hammock in the Gazebo that is perfectly perched on the grassy knoll at the edge of the lawn. I can stroll the beach, alone with my thoughts, removed from the din that accompanies the crowded beaches of the cities. Somehow the inside of the house is not as clear to me. The décor changes periodically based on whim and somehow the only necessity seems to be comfort. There is, however, a music room. One for playing and recording music and for dance because in my dream world I can do all of those things beautifully! I told you it was a dream world! Of course, the dream is not complete if it cannot be shared with those you love. You need to have someone to share the porch swing and hammock for those times of processing life and sharing your heart. I suppose in some ways just writing this is that…..sharing the dream. Thanks for taking a stroll along the beach with me!

Psalm 13 - Tapestries and Mosaics

A tapestry is a textile art form weaving threads into a colorful image or pattern. The pattern remains indistinct until completion.


A mosaic takes small pieces of glass, stone or other material to create a pattern or design. Like the tapestry, only when completed does the mosaic pattern become distinguishable.

I am becoming more and more aware of how closely our lives resemble the assembling of tapestries and mosaics. We have all of these threads, individual events, that take place throughout our lives that don’t make sense at the time. Why did God direct our path there? What was that all about? How can that come to good? Yet, once the tapestry nears completion, once those threads in our lives start revealing the pattern…then we can begin to understand the whys, hows and whats. Those little fragments of events that were pieced together blindly begin to take shape as they fit into the schematic that God had designed for our life. I am beginning to see purposes to those crazy seemingly insignificant events that suddenly loom large as I see the big picture. At the time, it wasn’t my passion, it was just a little part time job to earn some spending money. Now I see how that particular job yielded a skill that fits into what God had designed for my future. A chance meeting, an old friend, or just an acquaintance from our past suddenly plays a role in our life that we could have never envisioned. We realize they had been strategically placed there for the plans that He had designed for us. When you come to that point where you can begin to see the beauty of the creation that is being woven and pieced, you stand in awe and realize that every little thread, every little piece of stone, was not just by chance at all but had been carefully placed by the hand of a loving God who had a clear picture of exactly what was being created...even when to me the threads seemed so complicated and confused and mismatched and the pieces didn’t appear to be fitting together into any discernable pattern. The tapestry of my life, when woven by God, yields a fabric far more beautiful than I could have ever designed myself. The mosaic of my heart is being pieced perfectly by my loving Father to fulfill the passion He placed within me. I am finally beginning to actually catch a glimpse of that truth and it is so overwhelming that it almost frightens me.

Psalm 12 - Unconditionally

Unconditional- total, absolute, unrestricted, unreserved, with no conditions or limits.

That word has been in the forefront of my thoughts. I’m beginning…no, not really beginning. I am continuing a journey. I don’t know that you ever really LEAVE the journey because if it is your passion you really can’t…your heart won’t let you. But sometimes you reach those times where it doesn’t feel like it is going anywhere. It is in those times that it is the most difficult to believe, to trust, to wait, and to not settle into a place of complacency; but instead keep the fires of passion burning awaiting the opportunity to proceed. Then paths clear, opportunities come…and you risk venturing onward. What is the risk? For me pursuing my dreams and passion involve the word unconditional. It means laying your heart out there totally, absolutely, unreservedly, with no limits…which is risking being hurt, not just a little but to the degree that you have laid it out there…totally, absolutely, no limits. What is the alternative? It is to settle for something less and always wonder what could have been. It is to allow fear to win and have regrets. It is to never experience the fullness for which you were created in this life. It is to not trust and never experience the joy of a shared journey. All of those things to me are far worse than the risk. I picture a turtle lugging around that heavy shell. Anytime anything in any way threatens them they just shrink back into that impenetrable fortress of protection. It is heavy and cumbersome. It slows the journey. Even when they do emerge the only things exposed are their legs and head. He doesn’t share the shell with anyone…he lives alone. I suppose in my own way I could choose to live hesitantly with that shell of protection surrounding my vulnerably exposed heart. I could proceed so cautiously that I never seem to get anywhere or even settle so that I never really get started at all. Out of fear of rejection I could choose to journey alone. Now I think of the word unacceptable. I can’t live that way, my passion won’t allow it. I am choosing to proceed unconditionally trusting that the One who has created this passion within will direct its journey. I am choosing to risk unconditionally in order to experience the joy of passion lived out fully. I am choosing to trust and love unconditionally in order to experience the joy of the journey shared with those God has chosen to walk beside me.

Psalm 11 - Those Three Words

I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel

Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough

These lyrics intrigued me. He never actually says what those three words are, but the lyricist knew that he didn’t have to say what they were. Most of us would realize that the three words that would convey the emotion described in the song were “I love you”. How is it possible to say that too much? Shouldn’t we communicate our love to those we care deeply about? Can we do that to excess? I suppose we could find other words to use, but do we need to? Don’t these words say it best? If they don’t, then why don’t they? Why have they lost their meaning? Have they really lost their meaning or is it just that we have been careless with them and used them flippantly so that they don’t carry the same depth of meaning? Saying “I love the color green” is way different then saying “I love you” to someone that I care deeply about. I think that I am careful about who I say that to. I don’t just say it casually. I don’t use it nonchalantly at the end of a conversation with a friend. But, when I do “love” someone, I say it a lot. Do I need to? Should I just assume that if I’ve said it once or twice that they should just know that I love them? Should my actions speak louder than my words? I have friends that I care deeply about…. I do love them. Where do I draw the line so that the phrase retains the depth of meaning for which it was created? There aren’t a lot of other ways to say it succinctly. I don’t really have a lot of answers. I can’t control what society has done to degrade the meaning of “those three words”. It makes me sad to think that when I do say them to someone that they may not be enough because something has been lost in their misuse through time. Upon reflection, my hope is that “those three words” will be enough because the recipients of my love will have heard it from my heart, seen it in my eyes, felt it in my touch and experienced it in our relationship.

Psalm 10 - Pass Me the Remote

Sometimes I wonder why life can’t be as simple as a television show. In sitcoms everything is neatly packaged to be wrapped up in a half hour, less than that if you take out the commercials. Other shows solve most problems in the course of a season. They may end with a cliffhanger that carries an answered dilemma over until the next year, but even that storyline is revealed usually within the first episode. The whole premise of “24” is that it operates in “real time”. So, even though it is 24 episodes long over the course of the year, all of the drama is basically wrapped up in a 24 hour time period. The writers and producers of “Lost” have set a time frame to unveil their mysteries. They don’t want to string us along more than three more years. Interestingly enough I have found that many real life situations string me along much longer. I wish that I could fast forward to the conclusion. I wish that I could TIVO my way to answers. Real life, the kind that has 24 hours in succession daily, doesn’t work that way. There have been cliffhangers that still remain unanswered. Some never will be. I can’t always write the script of my life to make it funny when I need to laugh to heal the pain. I can’t switch channels if the drama gets too intense and expect that I will instantly find relief. I can choose to push the pause button and just not deal with things, but at some point you have to unpause and choose to deal with it if you want to be able to move forward in life. Often I find myself, like King David, crying out to God and saying, “Why can’t you just tell me what to do?” Many days I wished that God would just send me a letter, pass me a note, write it down in black and white….just give me the directions and I will follow them. I know He gave me His Word. It is called the Bible. But even then there have been many times when I just wish that I could look in the concordance in the back of my Bible and under the “Js” find the scripture references to “Joyce’s Problems – Quick and Easy Step by Step Instructions to Satisfying Solutions”. He has, in His compassion, actually sent me the closest thing, in my estimation, to an actual visual sign on one rare occasion. I was troubled and pouring my heart out to a friend on the phone when I looked over and there on the side of an apple box was a blue circle with the words “Don’t Worry” written on it. I know that at that moment that was exactly what I needed to “hear”…err “see”. There have been many other times when I poured out my heart only to look around and see…..nothing, and hear….silence. I know it isn’t within His nature to be callous and uninterested and withhold Himself from us. And I know that He doesn’t just miss hearing us sometimes. As I was thinking about this yesterday I came across a key chain from, of all places, an old garment that I had purchased from Calvin Klein. It said “choice”. God knows what is best for us and desires to give us that. But, He loves us enough that He didn’t make us His puppets. We don’t walk around like remote controlled robots obeying His every command. We have free will….choices. If we know and believe His truth then we should be able to discern His purposes and will in situations as they arise. Sometimes we have to just step out in faith trusting that He will guide us. Obedience is a choice, so is disobedience. Trust is a choice, so is doubt. To love is a choice, so is to hate. Submission is a choice, so is rebellion. If we choose to drive our car off the side of a cliff, that is a choice. The show “Let’s Make a Deal” was all about choices….door one…door two….or door three. Do I keep what I have or risk it all on the chance that what is in the box will be better? Life is not simple because it is filled with choices every minute of the day. But, maybe life is simpler than I think. Maybe I am the one that makes it more confusing and complex because of the myriad of choices set in front of me that I wrestle with constantly. Maybe I need to stop and listen to the heart of the One who scripted the perfect scenario for me in each and every scene of my life’s journey. Maybe I need to put down the remote so the temptation to channel surf through life looking for quick fixes won’t be there. That, too, is a choice.

Psalm 9 - The List

Name the five best days of your life. That was the background theme for an episode of “Lost”. Charlie knew, or at least assumed, that he was going to die and as he reflected on the years that he had lived on this earth he began to compile a list of his five best days. In flashbacks as he wrote out his list; he remembered the day he first heard his song on the radio, the day his Dad taught him to swim, the day his brother gave him a family heirloom ring and the day he responded in heroic fashion to a girl in distress. But, his number one day was, “The day I met you”. Obviously, he was writing this list not just for his own personal benefit. He was sharing this so that, in his absence, his friend would understand her significance in his life. It touched my heart because I realized how much that would mean to me to know that I had impacted someone’s life in such a way that they would consider my entry into their realm of existence as being one of the best things that happened to them. To make a difference in someone’s life, to have them feel that their life was better for having known you…how edifying that would be to know that. Not many of us have the option of knowing the exact time of our departure from this earthly existence, especially in such a way that we are completely coherent and in good health to the end. As a result, how many of us get to leave such a legacy, such a gift for those friends that we deem so invaluable. As I thought about it, I don’t think that I care how many people I impact, but how deeply I impact even just one life. I don’t have to be their numero uno best day, but how awesome to make their top 10 or 20 days. As I think about it, I feel blessed to have those that have brought color into an otherwise black and white existence. They have allowed me to dream dreams with them and live life with a passion that is fed by their creativity. They know the deepest parts of my heart and soul and love me anyway. Definitely I can say that one of my best days was “The day I met you”.

Psalm 8 - Finding Yourself

The whole concept of “finding yourself” sort of implies that you have actually lost yourself somewhere along the journey. I have spent more than half of my natural life here on this earth already and I am still trying to figure out the complexity of who I really am. Just when I have thought that I had come to a reasonable conception of that, curves came my way that made me question if I really had an objectively clear picture of “me”. I totally know who I WANT to be. But, just like Paul says in his epistle….I do what I don’t want to do and I don’t do what I want to do. I realize as a result of my own desire to please others that at times I have allowed them to define me. As a little girl, my parent’s perceptions of me and their words embedded in my ears caused me to own their view of who I was. As you grow older, you begin to be hugely impacted by your peers. To some degree I feel like I had a strength to not be swayed by the peer pressure that so hugely affects most adolescents. I didn’t give into many of the vices that my friends got caught up into because of a certain moral fiber that was inexplicable part of my soul. I truly believe that it was God’s call on my life to which I was responding. However, that refusal to conform and join in subtly began to create a certain “less than” sense of worth within me. Without intention and without realizing it…I was slowly losing a clear picture of who I really was and began owning a warped perception formulated by others. That distortion caused me to focus on what others were thinking and feeling about me rather than correctly focusing on the contentedness of who I was becoming and the excitement of the possibilities of what I could be about. The irony is that I was giving power to define me to the people, society in general, who knew me least. Plus, the greater irony was that it was just what I was assuming they were thinking rather than what they were truly thinking about me! Would it not make much more sense to give the power to define me to the One who actually knows me best because He created me? Shouldn’t I be listening past the din of marketing ads directed at making me feel like I need their product to make a better me and hear the voice of the One who truly loves me unconditionally? There is a saying, “You would worry less about what people thought about you if you realized how seldom they actually do”. It is true and sad at the same time. It implies that we live in a world where people are so self-absorbed as a result of their own insecurities that they don’t have the time or energy to give to others. People spend unlimited amounts of money trying to mold their external being into something that society has deemed as beauty. In that quest, they often forget that beauty actually lies within. I forget that! I look at the magazines. I look at the television and movies. I look in the mirror and compare and see less than. I see time etching its mark on my face and body and I mourn the loss. That brings me back to who I WANT to be. I want to look in a mirror and see past all of the physical imperfections that I really had nothing to do with because they came with the genetic code when I was born and see a beautiful heart that lies within. My physical being was knit in my mother’s womb. I can adorn it with all kinds of clothes, jewelry, makeup…whatever. But, it is the physical body that I was dealt. Sure, I could spend lots of money changing whatever, but eventually it just decays and returns to dust. So, why not invest in something eternal. That is the heart attitude that I am choosing. My earthly investment is those that God has given me to love and to walk life with. I want to freely give of who I am and what I possess, actually what I possess as a result of what He has blessed me with, to those who He places in my life. I want to not be so focused on myself that I miss hearing their needs, not just their monetary needs but the needs of their soul. I want to love well. When God says to me, “Well done, good and faithful servant; I want to know that it wasn’t so much what I have DONE, but the lives that I have impacted along the way. Maybe finding yourself IS actually about losing yourself…..losing yourself in Him.

Psalm 7 - The Original Blogger

I have heard the phrase, “There is nothing new under the sun”. I think that is said in reference to the fact that so many things seem to come in cycles. Fashions that were the trend in the 70’s are embraced as new by a generation that wasn’t there to have experienced them in the earlier decade. If you go into any bookstore you will see a whole section devoted to journals filled with empty pages awaiting the pen and thoughts of one compelled to record their life on paper. And, in this electronic age many of these journalists have turned to their computers to compose…and called them blogs. One creative computer whiz may have made it easier to facilitate these eager authors of expression, but the format of “blogging” has been around for centuries. My personal favorite blogger is King David. His Psalms were blogs set to music….songs. He poured out his heart in each and every Psalm that he penned. At various times he expresses his frustration and confusion with life situations, his unbridled joy with surprises which delighted his heart, sorrow at expectations unmet, desperation at situations out of his control and impatience at dreams prolonged. I am always amazed that even though these were composed so many years ago, they ring true to my own heart and I have often cried out to God using David’s words because they so clearly and accurately echo my own feelings. There have been many times when I didn’t have a clue how to verbalize the depth of the pain in my heart and I have turned to the Psalms and found the perfect words already penned by David. I love the fact that David chose to put the words of his heart expression to melody. Lyrics provide the framework to tell the story, but the music provides the drama and passion that paints the picture to complete the thought. Modern day songwriters continue to allow others into the personal journals of their life through the music they write. Sometimes when certain songs come on the radio, it actually transports me back to a moment in time that is etched in my memory because that song was playing in the background providing the musical score for that part of my life journey. I can instantly find myself re-experiencing the emotion that had until then been relegated to only a memory. Music seems to be a universal language. It is interesting that the sound of the words change due to language differences, but the tune or melody is the constant. If we hummed a popular song it would be recognizable to anyone regardless of their native tongue. It is also amazing how much emotion can be created from so few musical notes. The musical scale is composed of just 7 notes, or with sharps and flats factored into the chromatic scale, you have essentially 12 notes. There isn’t an endless supply of notes to choose from, but there is an apparent endless array of possibilities for melodies to give life to lyrics. I love that music is relational, not just in the fact that it can be universally enjoyed, but that it is often formed by the individual talents of two or more people collaborating. One may have the ability to capture a particular story in words and the other is able to set the mood with the music that perfectly compliments the intent of the lyricist. Maybe there is something new under the sun after all. It is called the next song waiting to be written.

Psalm 6 - Still Dreamin'

I drove by it again the other day. There it stood, vacant, calling out for someone to give it life, that perfect piece of real estate that had embodied a dream. I envisioned the room filled with the sounds of vintage instruments that had meticulously been refurbished to their original splendor by the gifted hands of a passionate musician. They were now on display for all to enjoy and sample. The craftsman enjoyed the fruits of his labor, but was willing to part with them knowing that those who purchased them would give new life to these once discarded treasures. Each instrument had its own story and each was awaiting the next chapter of their life to be written when that special person walked in and saw the potential each possessed. This was not just a place to purchase instruments, but more like an adoption process where instruments and instrumentalists found each other in a comfortable setting with cozy couches that invited you to sit and spend time chatting with the owners about life and the shared passion of music. There were stories told and memories shared. When you entered, life slowed to a pace that could be savored, much like sipping the steaming cups of coffee that were offered at the beverage counter. The music wafted outside to the terrace where tables were set up to allow for spontaneous jams by patrons who just enjoyed hanging out with others of like passions. Musical tastes varied, but there was a common love and appreciation of the art form. They may have entered as curious customers, but they would return again and again to this place that became like a community…an extended family to them. What was the name that we had dreamt about? Why could I not remember? Was I letting the dream escape like so many others had? No, it was still alive, simmering, waiting….and waiting. Much like the instruments waiting to be brought to new life, my dreams lay waiting to be given life.

Psalm 5 - To Journal or Not to Journal That is the Question

Sometimes I am not sure why I journal. My mind is constantly pondering, questioning, meditating, wondering, analyzing, thinking and rethinking. I don’t think my brain understands the phrase “just give it a rest”. It seems to be in a constant state of conversation with itself. So, why bother to put these thoughts down on paper? Why not just leave them in the secret files of my mental notes. I mean, no one really reads these epistles composed of my lessons gleaned from life. And yet, that isn’t really what seems to be important to me or I might have actually told people that I have a blog. No one really knows. I am drawn to compose my scattered thoughts on paper, or in this case electronic cyberspace, because there seems to be something cathartic about the power of the pen (or keyboard). Maybe by putting it down and having to actually visualize the thoughts that were racing through my brain, they will either be seen with more clarity to be revealed as truth….or perhaps be revealed as folly. But then again, when written for all to see then the folly is seen by all, not just me. There is a certain vulnerability attached to the revelation of my most intimate thoughts and feelings being put on display for public view…and possible judgment. Blogs are now interesting because they are becoming more and more public. They are a form of a diary. When I was a little girl growing up we all had our diaries that held our most intimate and private thoughts. The diaries came with lock and key and even when locked you would hide it away out of fear that someone might glimpse the secrets it contained. Now putting our thoughts out for public consumption has become the norm rather than the exception. By posting our blogs we have given everyone the key to our diaries. There have been several times in the last few days when I have wanted to journal and yet felt stymied. I realized today that it had a lot to do with the fact that there are just a lot of thoughts that I still want to keep under lock and key. I want to dialogue. I want to compose. But I am not ready to publish. Hmmm do I really trust anyone who might read to have access to the intimacies of my thoughts and as a result the power to perhaps condemn, judge or even crush my spirit or hurt my heart? Maybe when I can answer that question….or not be afraid of that question…then I will actually share the fact that I have a blog with others.

Psalm 4 - On the Way to Where I am Going

I heard someone’s motto the other day. It was “be happy where you are, on the way to where you’re going”. Usually when I hear something that I like and hope to remember, I have to immediately grab a pen and jot it down on the nearest scrap of paper in order to avoid it disappearing into the black abyss that used to contain my memory. However, this one permeated my thinking to the extent that I not only didn’t have to write it down, but it has embedded itself into the fiber of my being. As the ticking of the time clock of my existence continues at a seemingly ever rapid pace, I am more and more aware of my desire to finish this race called life with incredible purpose. I equate being “happy” with contentedness. In my own life through the years; whether it be through circumstances, chemical make-up, lack of faith, or whatever…I have perfected the art of worrying. It is not something of which I am proud. It is not even something that I in any way want to be about and yet it remains a thread that has consistently woven itself through my life. I know scripture and have read Paul’s words that “I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am”. I think that perhaps the key words in this phrase may be “have learned”. In other words, if you have to “learn” something then it may not be something that is innately within you. That is probably where the exercise of faith comes in. If I have put my trust in God for my eternal salvation, then how foolish is it to not be able to trust Him with all of the details that lead up to that moment of being called into His presence. How do I “know” this and yet find the exercise of this so very difficult? You can hear truth, but you can’t really learn truth without putting it to the test. Our daily walk is learning to live in that place of contentedness or happiness as a result of resting in the truth of His words by exercising the faith that whatever circumstances may come our way, His promises are indeed trustworthy. In simpler terms, actually believing that He has our back. I am in the process of learning to live in the present state of “contentedness” or as stated in the motto….being happy. But in the process of learning to be content I never want to become complacent. I don’t want to be so “content” that I loose dreaming. I see people get to the place of passively accepting the status quo, being comfortable in the routine, and not really possessing or pursuing any goals or dreams. I want my life to always have dreams and I want to dream in technicolor. I realize that I come alive around those whose lives are still passionately in pursuit of possibilities. If I picture this life as a journey, then I love that there are those times of sitting on the beach in some small coastal town, breathing the salt air and feeling the cool sea breeze. I love stopping in a roadside diner and experiencing the “special” on the menu that is a unique reflection of the area’s culture. I want to travel the back roads and see the wonders that would be missed if you simply stayed on the roads most traveled; for instance the short cuts, the ones most populated and frequently traveled, the safest routes,….. or if you chose to not travel at all. I don’t want to miss opportunities by not sensing when it is time to “remain” and when it is time to “move on” to the next opportunity. I want to be amazed by the surprises that come my way because I was willing to risk following my heart. I want to have the strength to journey on even if others lag behind or choose to not follow. I am aware that the measure of contentedness is in direct proportion to understanding that those dreams need to be aligned with the purposes for which I was created by the One who has given me life. So, as I am learning to experience the reality of this faith-walk, this journey called life, I want to be happy where I am on the way to where I am going.

Psalm 3 - Obstacles, Fears and Dreams...Oh My

“Anyway”

You can spend your whole life buildin'
Something from nothin’
One storm could come and blow it all away
Build it anyway

You could chase a dream
That seems so out of reach
And you know it might not ever come your way
Dream it anyway

This worlds gone crazy
And it's hard to believe
That tomorrow will be better than today
Believe it anyway

You can love someone with all you heart
For all the right reasons
And in a moment they can choose to walk away
Love 'em anyway

God is great but sometimes life ain’t good
And when I pray
It doesn't always turn out like I think it should
But I do it anyway
Yeah I do it anyway

You can pour your soul out singin'
A song you believe in
That tomorrow they'll forget you ever sang
Sing it anyway
Yeah sing it anyway

I sing
I dream
I love anyway

The author of this song is obviously an optimist. One that chooses to not let life hold them captive, but instead chooses to live life to the fullest despite insurmountable odds. This is exactly how I want to live my journey, with a passion to pursue my dreams and my call without reservation. This is not to say that you live without regard to those who are part of your journey, you just don’t let them be the director of your dreams. You have those trusted friends that you look to for input and advice, but you must in the end be responsible to follow your heart. I am learning to not be a constant victim of what has been the primary inhibitor of my journey thus far – FEAR. I think everyone battles fear to some degree and in some cases it can even be our protector. Fear, much like pain, can even be a good thing when it is channeled as a healthy respect of harmful influences or situations. It becomes unhealthy when it totally rules our lives and is the loud voice directing all our decisions. I know that some of my biggest fears have been of failure and of rejection. To not try is to not fail. But then again your life is then void of the incredible excitement of having lessons learned from experiencing challenges and discovering ways to overcome them. Plus, you have robbed yourself of any opportunity to experience the joy of unexpected success. I have lived much of my life replacing the last line of each of the verses to “So don’t risk it anymore”. I have viewed the courage of others who dared to dream and venture into the unknown and see themselves experience the satisfaction of at least knowing they have tried and given their all even if the outcome was not exactly what they had set out pursuing. Sometimes their roads were diverted into amazing adventures that they would not have experienced had they never risked. Sometimes there is indeed “failure”. But which is the greatest failure? To love and lose or to never love at all? I love the song “Unwritten” –

"Unwritten"

I am unwritten, can't read my mind,
I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way

I am trying to discover what has conditioned me to think that I can’t make mistakes. I don’t want that perfectionism and fear to define and limit my journey. I really can’t live that way anymore. I am beginning to free myself from the chains that would allow my arms to be wide open to possibilities. There are still pages in my book that are unwritten. I don’t want them to stay blank due to the paralyzing grip of fear. I want to choose to embrace possibilities and view failure, not as failure, but as a redirection of the path of my journey. After all, “every new beginning starts with some other beginning’s end”.

Psalm 2 - Those Who Journey With Us

We are about to do a remodel on our home and as such there is a lot of rearranging and moving to accommodate the changes. In the process you come to realize just how much “stuff” one accumulates in this journey of life. As I go through drawers and cupboards I can attach stories and “moments” to so many of the items that seemed so very necessary at the time, but now are relegated to the darkened confines of shelves and closets. Some of my “collections” have monetary value, but their value to me has diminished as my interests changed. Somehow the hunt was far more rewarding than the actual possession of them. None of these “things” can comfort me when my heart is hurting. None of these “possessions” lend a listening ear when I need someone to talk to when I am confused or discouraged. They have little to offer past the momentary pleasure of acquisition or the possible monetary reward. Sure some of them provide physical comforts. But meeting my physical needs alone leaves me….well, lonely. The one treasure that has actually increased in value and importance in my life journey is something that isn’t material in nature, but relational. It is the gift of friendship. I would like to say that this is one thing that can’t be bought. Some would say you can. But I would venture to say that upon examination our definition of friendship would be quite different. Interestingly enough I have found that many people equate acquiring vast numbers of friends with their own worth. It probably starts somewhere in our youth where our popularity is in direct proportion to the number of people that sign our yearbooks. My high school yearbooks are filled with signatures of “friends” that vowed undying loyalty simply as a result of having spent a semester sitting next to me in one of my classes or having a locker next to mine. Most of them I haven’t seen or heard from after exiting that particular class. Of course, there were always new “friends” in the next semester’s classes and they too would pledge their devotion in the next edition of the school yearbook. Some of them even spell your name correctly and say things far deeper than “have fun with the boys” and “have a great summer”. I see the MySpace pages in today’s world and notice that many people have hundreds of “friends. I see a term BFF. I think it refers to Best Friend Forever. It seems like there are a lot of people whose “forevers” are very short lived. Their BFF changes frequently and is seemingly easily replaced if anything complicates the relationship. Along this journey I have learned the difference between what I now consider to be acquaintances and those people who come into your life that are truly FRIENDS. FRIEND is not a term that I use loosely anymore. To me a true friend is one that knows the deepest parts of your heart, even the dark places that you have chosen to hide and protect out of fear of rejection, and chooses to still love. They STAY. They choose to not run when issues complicate the relationship. They value you enough to fight for the friendship by being willing to spend hours talking to be able to hear and understand your heart and see the broken parts as worth fixing. They are longsuffering because sometimes it just takes a while to get it, but they stick around until you do and then they celebrate those life victories with you. They laugh with you, not at you, and they cry with you when you hurt. They are your greatest fan and yet they sometimes even challenge you because they see things in you that you can’t even see in yourself and they want to see you become who you were created to be. They speak truth…but always in love and always with your best interest in mind. They prefer you. You can spend hours with them talking about anything and everything or feel completely comfortable just sitting quietly in their presence knowing there is no place that you would rather be at that moment. Awkward silence doesn’t exist in this world. It is totally not about where you are at, but who you are with. Sure, being at the beach, lying under the stars at that moment would make it perfect, but then again…only with them. They know exactly what you are thinking, and you know they know exactly what you are thinking, even before a word is spoken. You can see it in their eyes…that knowing glance and little smile. Anymore it is not the quantity of friends that I desire, but the quality of friends. It is not about how wide my circle of friends is, but the depth of the friendships that I possess in my life. It is no longer how many signatures are in my book of life, but how deeply they have chosen to write their name into my heart…with permanent marker.

Psalm 1 - Every Journey Begins with the First Step

A journey is about discovery. I have been on this journey called life for a long time and the one thing that I have discovered is that I don't think you ever "arrive". At least, not in this lifetime. It is kind of like climbing the back side of a mountain range. Not only is the path at times rocky and at times smooth, at times wide and at times narrow, at times uphill and at times downhill; but just when you get to the crest of what you thought was the summit, you discover yet another peak beyond. I have come to the conclusion that my journey is actually a preparation for what is yet to come. My "passport" to this adventure was issued upon an invitation from Someone who loved me far greater than I could have ever imagined possible. So much so that He willingly offered His life as a payment for my "passport"....for me! Who would do that for someone as insignificant as I considered myself to be? As a child I can remember contemplating life and thinking that it seemed to be meaningless if we just existed for a life span of 70-80 years....if we were fortunate....and then died. In other words, why be born just to die? Unless we were extraordinary and invented something that "could change the world", then we would most likely only exist in old photo albums after passing. I know, you are probably thinking, "How depressing!" And yet amidst the gloom and sadness, there would be a ray of light that appeared in the form of Truth. It is amazing how brilliant light can appear in the midst of darkness. It is impossible to ignore and when faced with it we have a choice....to respond or to turn away. I spent much of my childhood trying to earn that passport into what I hoped would be immortality before learning that it is not for sale...the purchase was already made on my behalf. I just needed to receive the gift offered. The Light that had shown so clearly amidst the darkness to give me hope was the Truth that God had so loved that He had sent His Son to die on a cross to offer eternal life to all who would choose to believe. My heart melted as I basked in the warmth of that reality. For me....my choice was clear. I chose to respond and have not looked back since. My journey began at that moment of acceptance. My passport guaranteed me eternity, but not necessarily smooth passage. It guaranteed me hope and help, but not freedom from pain and suffering along the way. Still, as I reveal portions of my journey through this journal the one thing that I can choose to say is that no matter what befalls me I am.....Still Rejoycing.