Music touches our souls in strange ways. People have different tastes in music. Some like jazz, some like hard rock, while some others like country music. But I have yet to find someone who does not like music of any kind. What does music mean to you?
I remember music growing up. My mom would always sing me to sleep. My father would sing to wake me up. I used to get so mad at him every time he would come in my room singing "if your child needs a daddy I can help. I got two strong arms, I can help." I hated that song. I never believed it was real until I heard it on the radio several years ago.
Growing up in church, I learned many different hymns and songs on Sunday's and Wednesdays. I enjoyed singing in the children's choir. I was in the youth choir (and I quit after that.)
Music doesn't always have to have words though. I started taking piano lessons in third grade. I made music every week on that piano. I have played handbells in church for 14 years. I love to make music with bells and can even play solo.
The radio plays various types of music. Once we listened to tapes, then CD's and now I have over 2000 songs on my iPod. There's rock, pop, dance, Arabic, Islamic, Christian, and many other various types of music on there. I have various tastes when it comes to music.
Today, I was driving back from the airport with a friend and we had been listening to some popular dance music and we were both just moving with the beat. My friend was our DJ since I was driving, so it was totally up to her what we would listen to. After listening to a few of our favorites, she changed to Christian music. After a song or two of the Christian "fluff" as some people call it, our moods changed. We were more solemn. The lyrics gave us something to think about; we had things to contemplate. So as we rode along listening to these songs with deep meaning and beautiful melodies, my heart was changed.
I chose several songs I wanted her to hear including Entertaining Angels and Breakfast by the Newsboys, and Lifesong by Casting Crowns. I also played Big House by Audio Adrenaline. When this song was playing and my friend was listening to the words, she got a smile on her face. She realized what the song was about and how there is a place for everyone with God.
As I have thought about this more tonight, I am taken back to my time as a youth. I had a different taste in music. Most people around me were listening to country...I was listening to rap. The people at church were trying to get me to listen to Christian music...I refused. I was different in my tastes but no less a Christian than anyone else around me. However, I'm afraid that the church folks thought I was less of a Christian and tried to bring me "back" week after week.
Thinking of this situation I was in, I am reminded that there is a place for everyone with God. No matter what our tastes in music are (or anything else for that matter) God accepts us all.
So how does music speak to you? What genre of music do you like? Do you allow the lyrics to speak? Does music make you cry, smile, laugh, weary, happy, etc?
Take time to listen to the music. Music is the heartbeat of life.
"Take a music bath once or twice a week for a few seasons, and you will find that it is to the soul what the water bath is to the body." -Oliver Wendell Holmes
Today as I was walking across campus, someone offered me a half a stick of gum. Immediately I was taken back to my childhood.
My Granddaddy (my father's father) was my best friend. We did absolutely everything together. His house was right next door to mine and I would go visit my grandparents everyday. While my Nanny was in the house cooking or cleaning, I was typically out on the farm with my granddaddy. He had an old Ford tractor, it was grey and red. He made a lift type thing for the back of it with a seat for me to sit on as he drove around the farm. I remember his old station wagon that I called a "grocery getter" as I got older. It was yellow and brown. The back would open up and seats were there. I loved it when he let me ride in the very back. I remember his black tool box in the back of his old green pick up truck. It didn't have seat belts and when we rode around I felt "cool" cause there were no seat belts.
My grandfather taught me many things. He taught me how to drive a tractor. He taught me how to plant a garden. He taught me how to laugh. When I was just a young child... always hanging around him.. I learned how to say a quote that has stuck with me forever. If I did something wrong, I would yell "Hell, dumb, damn, stupid, EB." Granddaddy thought it was so funny, because EB was my mother's father. (You know how families are.)
My grandfather was a meticulous man. Everything had its place. I think he learned this when he served in the Coast Guard. I remember his basement and one side had a wall of tools. Everything had a place to hang, and he always knew if something was missing. There were a few important things on that wall. He had several pictures of his family. And then there was an empty cigarette box. On it, was written: Last Box November 1, 1982.
I grew up looking at this box hanging on the wall, not always knowing why it was there or what the words and date meant. When I was about 10 I finally asked him what it meant. He told me that when he found out that his son was having a child he wanted to quit smoking. He finally gave it up one month before I was born. When he gave it up, he starting chewing freedent gum. He never chewed the whole piece...only half. He always offered someone else the other half.
When I was in the ninth grade, my grandfather was near his death. One week before he died I was at his house and was dying my hair. He just couldn't understand why my hair looked purple. He had been making so much fun of me that I was getting upset. He was very sick, and that night I went in his room and told him I just couldn't bear to see him like that. He told me he understood and he didn't want anybody to see him like that. He reached out his hand, touched my face and told me he would always love me. He reminded me of some of our best memories together. I knew then that I would never see him again. One week later, he passed away.
So, as I walked across campus today chewing my half a piece of gum, I was reminded of the love I have for my grandfather. Even though he died when I was in 9th grade, to this day I still feel his presence around me. He will always have a special place in my heart. I loved him, I love him, and I keep our memories dear to my heart. When I mess up, I still say "hell, dumb, damn, stupid EB" and laugh because I know if he were still alive he'd be laughing with me. So here's to half a stick of gum, and memories of one of the strongest men in my life.
If you walk down the aisle of a Hallmark store, do you know how many birthday cards you can find? How about all of the gift bags, tissue paper, tape, ribbons, etc?
How about when you are out in a restaurant and hear the birthday song being sung? Does it bring back memories for you of times growing up?
This weekend, I celebrated two of my friends' birthdays. We had an excellent time. As I have reflected over the time we spent together, I am reminded of many birthday memories.
I remember when I was 8 years old, my grandmother had a princess cake make for me. It was 3-D and I loved it. I took pictures of it, beside it, well you get my point. I didn't even want to eat it. That cake was one of my favorites. I loved it.
I remember when I turned 13, I dyed my hair and surprised my parents. Oh.. boy were they upset. However, I loved the new shade of blond. I just kept saying...at least it isn't blue or something.
I remember when I turned 16, I had a limo come to my house and pick up 6 friends and me. We went to a fancy dinner, then around to look at the tacky light tour (hey..its a big thing in Richmond).
I remember when I turned 17, it was the year I graduated from High School. A group of my friends took me out for my birthday and then to a party. We had a great time.
How about the milestone of 21. Of course there was a party with friends, but what sticks out to me more is the time with my mom. Funny story is that my mom and her friends wanted to take me out for my birthday. We went to a local Mexican Restaurant and had some drinks. Funny thing was, I stopped and my mom and her friends didn't. I ended up having to drive them all home (isn't there something wrong with that picture?)
On my 24th birthday, I was extremely sick. Two weeks after my birthday, I was in the hospital. I remember my family taking me out to eat for the evening and I couldn't eat. They were so worried about me and had no clue what was wrong. I tried to suck it up and smile.. but it didn't work, they knew I was in pain and really didn't want to be out.
Birthday memories. Since I spent the weekend celebrating with two close friends, I had time to think about how special birthdays have always been. One of the birthday girls chose to come and visit from Puerto Rico for her 21st birthday. The other friend turned 22 today.
We went out together on Friday night to a club/bar. I really felt like I was getting too old for this, but the girls made me feel young again. We had a great time out on the town. I drove them home, and we got back after 4am. On Saturday, I got to sleep in and then I made a cake for the girls. (I love cake, did I mention that?) Eleven of us went out to a local hibachi grill to celebrate their special days. We had a wonderful time and then returned to my apartment with everyone for cake. The conversation was great, the living room was filled with laughter. Once everyone left, I sat in my room with my two friends, and we relaxed. We had some true girl talk. We laughed together, we cried together, we hugged, we laughed again. Then we watched The Notebook. Well, we cried again.
Today brought a special 22nd birthday for one of my closest friends, but it also brought tears. We had to take our friend to the airport this morning for her to return to Puerto Rico. As we did, the crying happened, the goodbyes happened, and we realized this is a part of life. We are constantly having to tell people goodbye. After leaving the airport, we did a little shopping (you know one of my favorite things to do) and then returned back to the Creek. I cooked tonight (mashed potatoes from scratch)...and we had a good time eating, and talking afterwards.
Birthdays have always been important memories and milestones in my life. I am thankful to have been reminded this weekend of my milestones, the many celebrations I've had with friends and family, and I'm thankful to be alive.
My next milestone is in 2 months and 3 days.. and I will be half of 50. That means I am closer to 30... closer to needing to settle down in life...closer to graduating. There were times when I never thought I would make it this far. But as I think about it, I am so glad to have made it to where I am, and look forward to celebrating many more milestones, surrounded by the people I love.
Well.. I did it.. ;)
It's 2:42am...I have been out since 10...and I am one happy woman.
That's it for today folks...
Today I realized that I am in just the right place. I mean, being at Campbell Divinity School at this time is the right place for me. It wasn't the person (can I say nosey student) who questioned my being late to class that did it. It wasn't the friend that loaned me her class notes, or the lecture series on preaching.
I realized today something that God has been trying to show me for sometime. I am surrounded by a select group of people that do not judge me for being myself. I often have different ideas on things such as how we get to heaven, or who is saved, or just what heaven will look like. As I talked with a friend after class today, we talked about how I am different and there is nothing wrong with that. She said some things about my thoughts and how she could see where I am coming from. In no way did she tell me I was wrong or did I feel that she was judging me.
Now granted, there are many people at Campbell who do not agree with me. There are those that are way more conservative that me. There are those who are more towards the liberal side than I am. However, I liked the words that were used to describe me tonight. I am seen as being confident in my ideas and in myself. I am also seen as being a non-conformist.
This may come as a surprise to you..but ladies and gentlemen, I don't conform to the crowd. I like to listen to all sides and form my own opinions and ideas about things.
I'll admit that I was excited to hear these things and why these things fascinated this person about me. As I go on being a non-conformist and confident, I am only more excited to see just what the future holds. And, I'm not kidding.
I spent the afternoon and evening with a close friend. We went to Cary to do some shopping and hang out. We had a great time.. and I managed to keep my wallet closed (for the most part). I didn't buy much, I kept a handle on the spending. As I went around the mall, I watched the various people and listened to my friend as we talked about life and school and work and the future. Talking about the future is fun, because both of us know that we can't plan too far in advance because God always seems to have other plans for us.
Well, we were on the way home and the music was playing. Whatever song was on happened to be about love. I was quiet and listening and realized that my friend had stopped talking. Without looking over at her, I said.. "What's wrong?" She looked at me and said.."how could you know? How did you realize that I needed you to ask me that?"
As we drove on, I began to give her one of my pep talks. She has really needed them these past few days as I have reminded her to be strong. As I was talking, she said to me... " You know I feel like the words you are saying is really God talking to me." I asked her why. She told me that she felt God was trying to talk to her and tell her to be strong in the situations she is facing and He knew that the only way she would listen was if I told her.
Hmm.. quite interesting. Well, as we drove on the car got silent again.. so I started singing. As we were almost home, she looked over and me and said, you know, you are one of the strongest women I have ever met. You set your mind to something and you do it. You give me these pep talks and encourage me to be strong. You are a wonderful example. As I thanked her she shared with me that her roommate felt the same way about me. I smiled to myself and was thankful to be viewed as a strong woman.
I haven't always been strong, but these days I am. I wonder why...
Every Sunday afternoon, I normally take time to read another blog. I read the same one every week. This blog is from Post Secret. Post Secret was a project that was started a while ago in which people can send in post cards containing their secrets. These secrets are then published in book form or online. I read this blog every week, seeing and trying to understand the secrets that are being shared. I even have one of the books and I have read every single secret that was printed inside.
I find this idea fascinating. The book has a quote from its compiler inside. It says, "There are two kinds of secrets: those we keep from others and those we keep from ourselves." -Frank.
I have the original Post Secret book that was published after this project began in 2004. In this book are some of my favorite secrets that I have read. Some of my favorites read:
"I am a Southern Baptist Pastor's Wife. No one knows that I do not believe in God."
"I Hate people who remind me of myself."
"I hated my childhood."
There are so many others that people have had the courage to artistically share in post card version and mail in anonymously. Each week, as I read these post cards, I think about what I might put on my own post card. Tonight it hit me that I would want to share the following.
Most girls grow up playing mommy with their baby dolls. They dream of the day that they are a mother and can dress their children and play with them at the park. I grew up telling people that I didn't want children. My reasons were that I didn't want a child to have the same kind of childhood I did, therefore I wouldn't have any. I told this story for so long, and will still tell it today. The truth is...I did have a rough time as a child..but I WANT to have children. I want about three of them.
So there it is folks, one of my secrets. I have held it in for many years, and so now you know: I want children.
Do you have secrets? Do you ever feel so bad after holding them in for so long that you want to share them? I feel much better sharing mine. It may seem small to you, but it is a very big deal for me. So... if you can..tell a secret or two. I believe you will feel better.
