Kristin on Life, Love, and Faith

Remembering Mom

2010-09-15T07:07:00.000-07:00

Today is the 6th anniversary of my Mom's passing. These are the words that I wrote about her in my Christmas letter that year:

I will remember a woman. A woman who I called Mother.

I will remember a woman who was beautiful of face and equally as beautiful of heart. I will remember a woman whose heart overflowed with love, generosity, and selflessness. I will remember her incredible warmth, her unfailing kindness, and her endless patience. I will remember her wonderful sense of humor, her hearty laugh, and her electrifying smile. I will remember her innate sense of fun and adventure, her wide range of interests, and how she was always game for just about anything. I will remember her inherent goodness, her integrity, and her unfailing sense of right and wrong. I will remember her intellect, her sharp mind, and her passionate love and concern for our community, our nation, and our world. I will remember the lessons she taught us about the value of hard work and perseverance. I will remember the home that she provided for us, a home that she filled with love and peace and cheer and fun, a home that she opened to everyone without thought or hesitation. I will remember how hard she worked, how much energy she had, and how tireless she was. I will remember what a great event planner she was, so much so that we began calling such an event “A Linda Werner Production”. I will remember how she always made sure that we, her family, knew that we were the most important thing on earth to her, often saying, “My children are the joy and the reward of my life.” I will remember how she took such delight in even our tiniest victories, even when we were well into adulthood. I will remember the example she set for us as a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a daughter, and a friend. I will remember how she taught us, in word and in example, to love wholeheartedly and with great compassion. I will remember how courageous she was throughout her battle with illness, and how, even when she became physically compromised, she never lost her enormous capacity to give and love. I will remember what a wonderful friend she was to me…to all of us.

And I will remember standing at her deathbed, struggling to find the perfect final words to say to her, and finding that the only words that my lips kept forming over and over again were “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you”. For so great was my mother’s love, that even at the very moment that I was losing her, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with gratitude for having had her in my life.

May she rest always in the loving arms of God.

I love and miss you so much Mom!

Until we are together again,
All my love,
Krissy

Caleb Koke - Some Reflections

2010-07-14T17:17:00.000-07:00

Last year, I wrote the below essay about the passing and funeral of Caleb Koke, the 17-year old son of my longtime friends Rob and Laura Koke. Caleb passed away in a car accident on July 14th, 2009. Today is the one-year anniversary of Caleb's passing, which his parents refer to as the day that Caleb was "relocated to Heaven." I have been incredibly moved by the stories behind this boy's life, and the amazing faith and courage that his parents have shown in the face of this unimaginable loss.

Hi Friends and Family,

I am writing to share something with you that I have desired to share with you for some time now. I have taken a lot of time to put this message together, as I wanted to craft these words very carefully.

This is something that happened very recently, and it has had an extraordinary impact on my life, and in particular, on my personal faith. Like most of the correspondence I send, this is a bit long.

But if you read nothing else from me this year, please read this.

On the afternoon of Tuesday, July 14th, I received news of the death of Caleb Koke, the 17-year old son of our friends Rob and Laura Koke. While driving home early that morning, Caleb fell asleep at the wheel, ran into a tree, and passed away at the scene. I know many of you have heard about this, and have been in prayer for this family.

My family and I were utterly shattered to hear this news. Caleb’s mother, Laura, was one of my sister Julie’s best friends in high school, and spent countless hours at our house in the late 70’s and early 80’s. I was in elementary school at the time, and thought that Laura hung the moon and quite possibly the stars as well. She was a cool, beautiful teenager. I was a goofy and probably over-eager 10-year old, but Laura never made me feel that way. She treated me like a sister and made me feel cool too. She also made no bones about her deep love of Jesus, which I found so intriguing as a child, and which, in retrospect, was very likely instrumental in planting the early seeds of my Christian faith. After all, she made loving Jesus seem pretty darn cool.

Throughout the years, Laura has remained a dear friend to our family. While pregnant with Caleb, she was a bridesmaid in Julie’s wedding. She sent beautiful correspondence to us following my father’s stroke. She and my Mom had a very special relationship, and indeed, Laura was with my family for several hours in the ICU hospital room on what would be the last day of my mother’s life. She is now a regular customer at the restaurant where I work, and our conversations there invariably seem to turn to our mutual faith in Christ.

As a family, we don’t see Laura often, but she is a vital part of our history, and she, her husband Rob, and her children are very special to us. The news of Caleb’s death left us all utterly heartsick.

Upon hearing of Caleb’s passing, my sister Julie made immediate arrangements to fly to Austin from Atlanta. Julie’s life is not an easy one from which to pick up and leave, but there was no question or hesitation on her part. She was coming to Austin. Period. Together, we attended Caleb’s funeral on Friday, July 17th. The service was held at Shoreline Christian Center, the church at which Rob and Laura are the founders and co-pastors.

I would like to share with you what I witnessed there.

Because I cannot shake the things that I saw and heard at this funeral.

And I pray that I never do.

I watched this grieving family walk into their church as the worship band played and sang “Everlasting God”:

Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord,
Wait upon the Lord,
We will wait upon the Lord…

As they took their places on the front row, the song continued:

You are the Everlasting God…
You’re the Defender of the weak,
You comfort those in need,
You lift us up on wings like eagles…

And then, I saw Rob and Laura raising their hands in praise of God.

Wow.

Now, let me be clear. These parents were grieving intensely. I had visited with both of them the night before at the Visitation for Caleb. They were shattered. They were heartbroken. Their grief was new and severe and raw and real. Their pain was unfathomably, inexpressibly deep. Their tears flowed freely. And yet, here at their son’s funeral, they praised God.

I watched as they praised the God who now held their son.

I watched as Caleb’s 20-year old brother Luke and 15-year old sister Danielle courageously spoke individual eulogies over their brother. Both told stories that you would recognize from your own family – stories of good family times and family trips. Stories of basketball court rivalries between brothers. Stories about a big brother who included, loved, and defended his little sister. Stories that demonstrated how their sibling relationships were now transforming into deep and abiding friendships. But what struck me the most were the promises that Luke and Danielle made to their parents, Luke vowing “to be strong and be the rock for our family” and to “always love you and protect you”, and Danielle promising to “be strong for you and love you ten times more.”

These are sentiments that I recognized from my own life. When you grow up in a home in which you are deeply loved, and you see your parents in pain – when you are confronted with their humanity, their vulnerability – you want to love them through life’s heartache the way that they have loved you through yours. You want to reciprocate the amazing love that has been lavished upon you. I watched as the Koke children showed us just how deeply they had been loved.

I watched as Rob and Laura took to the altar to speak to the thousands who had come to mourn their son. I listened as they spoke of a pain so deep and of a loss so jarring in its suddenness and randomness, that they could not find words to express it. I listened as they spoke of a son who was “beautiful”, “loyal”, “tender-hearted”, and “so easy to love”. Of a boy who was a cool and popular star athlete, but who was so very much more than that: a young man who cherished family and friends, who was growing in his faith, who had recently given his entire suitcase of clothes away while on a mission trip, who boldly shared the love of Christ with others, and who was just beginning to consider a future in full-time ministry.

More remarkably, I listened as Laura and Rob spoke of the faithfulness of God throughout this unimaginable grief. About His presence and His promises, and how very, very real they are. That He promises to be “close to the brokenhearted and save those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18), and that He will turn our “wailing into dancing” (Psalm 30:11). Finally, they shared of a “deep-seated joy in knowing that Caleb is with Jesus”, and that even in the throes of their devastation, it was well with their souls.

Wow again.

Peace in the midst of pain. Mercy in the midst of mourning. Hope in the midst of despair.

There is no rational explanation for this. This is not logical. This does not make earthly sense.

There is only one explanation for this:

The Gospel of Jesus Christ is true.

It has to be.

In fact, I’ve never been more sure of it.

Which is interesting, because the death of a gifted, beautiful 17-year old boy who was on the cusp of his life – a life he would have most certainly spent serving Jesus faithfully and being a light to this dark and broken world – leaves me bewildered and angry. And in my worst moments, questioning God’s wisdom.

And yet, I trust Him. I do trust Him. And it makes me trust Him even more when I see a family walk through a fire like this with such faith in God’s goodness. It makes me want to love God more, know Him better, trust Him like never before.

Put simply, I have been changed – really changed – by this. And I just had to let you know.

I will leave you with Rob’s final words to us at Caleb’s funeral. They are, indeed, words to live by – words that I am going to strive to live out: “I’m gonna ask you to honor Caleb’s life by adding a little bit more tenderness to your life, a little more loyalty to your family, a little bit more fight against adversity, a little bit more commitment to giving your best, and a little bit more love for God. And if you do that, you’ll honor the purpose that God put Caleb on this planet for. And maybe at the end of the day, also honor God.”

Amen.

Thank you for listening.

Love you all,
Kristin

News On The Music Front!

2009-04-24T11:28:00.000-07:00

Hey Everybody!

Wanted to give you the latest lowdown on me music! Lots of fun stuff happening here:

- Celebrate Recovery: You can read all about Celebrate Recovery in my previous post! I am playing and singing with the worship band on Monday nights at the Celebrate Recovery meeting at Hill Country Bible Church here in Austin. Had my first night with the band this past Monday night and it was a privilege and a blast. This opportunity affords me the chance to learn new songs, collaborate with other musicians, and minister to those in recovery from all manner of "hurts, habits, and hang-ups."

- Open Mics: I will be doing a number of Open Mics the next several weeks, including the following:
Gateway Baptist Church's Open Mic for Jesus, Friday, May 1st

Genuine Joe's Coffee House Open Mic, some Thursday nights

The Loading Dock (in Georgetown) Open Mic, some Thursday nights

Hanover's (in Pflugerville) Open Mic, Monday nights

Nat's Pub Open Mic, some Wednesday nights

Detour Bar & Grill, some Tuesday nights

I'll send you specific dates and times at the start of each week.

- Preparing to Record : I'll be going into the studio again in June and July in preparation for the Gospel Music Association Festival and Competition in late July. Hope to lay down 3-5 tracks and hopefully with some additional instruments as well!

- Songwriting: I just want to share with you that my songwriting has just been exploding lately, and I think it is getting better. Conventional wisdom is that you'll write 100 bad songs before you write one good one. Well, I think 100 is a bit high, but regardless, I can feel myself growing as an artist and writing better songs. Gonna keep focusing on this, with hard work and God's help! As the saying goes, "How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice."

Thank you for all of your love and support!

Love,
Kristin

Celebrate Recovery!

2009-04-22T10:35:00.000-07:00

Hey ya'll!

Just wanted to share with you a VERY cool opportunity that has come my way. I am going to start playing and singing on Monday nights at the Celebrate Recovery meeting at Hill Country Bible Church here in Austin!

Celebrate Recovery (CR) was first launched at Saddleback Church in California. (Rick Warren, author of "The Purpose-Driven Life", is Saddleback's pastor). CR is a Christ-centered and Bible-based 12 Step Recovery Program. The purpose is to focus on God’s healing power through fellowship with others. By working the 12 Steps and the 8 Beatitude Principles, attendees can open up, share experiences, and explore hope. In this way, they become willing to accept God’s grace in solving their problems. There are no requirements for membership. Anyone may attend with a desire to work the steps for healing with any number of "hurts, hang-ups or habits."

Each program begins and ends with a few songs by the band, and I will be singing and playing with this band 2-3 Mondays a month. I am very excited and grateful for this opportunity and have been looking for something like this for some time now! I will continue to keep you posted.

Many of you are familiar with the 12 Steps, but the 8 Beatitude Principles might be new to you. I have listed them below.

CELEBRATE RECOVERY’S EIGHT RECOVERY PRINCIPLES
The Road to Recovery
Based on the Beatitudes

Realize I’m not God; I admit that I am powerless to control my tendency to do the wrong thing and that my life is unmanageable. (Step 1)

“Happy are those who know that they are spiritually poor.”

Earnestly believe that God exists, that I matter to Him and that He has the power to help me recover. (Step 2

“Happy are those how mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

Consciously choose to commit all my life and will to Christ’s care and control. (Step 3)

“Happy are the meek.”

Openly examine and confess my faults to myself, to God, and to someone I trust. (Steps 4 and 5)

“Happy are the pure in heart.”

Voluntarily submit to any and all changes God wants to make in my life and humbly ask Him to remove my character defects. (Steps 6 and 7)

“Happy are those whose greatest desire is to do what God requires”

Evaluate all my relationships. Offer forgiveness to those who have hurt me and make amends for harm I’ve done to others when possible, except when to do so would harm them or others. (Steps 8 and 9)

“Happy are the merciful.”

“Happy are the peacemakers”

Reserve a time with God for self-examination, Bible reading, and prayer in order to know God and His will for my life and to gain the power to follow His will. (Steps 10 and 11)

Yield myself to God to be used to bring this Good News to others, both by my example and my words. (Step 12)

“Happy are those who are persecuted because they do what God requires.”

Love,
Kristin

Bean Burritos, Baby, Yeah!

2009-03-02T07:18:00.001-08:00

Ok, ya'll.

I recently saw this poster in the window of a Taco Bell.

Are people who work at Taco Bell really this happy?

I mean, seriously! These people are positively ebullient!

Maybe it's all those enchiritos they get to eat...

I'm sorta jealous.

The Vision

2009-02-11T16:02:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, I was co-chaperoning a Youth Lock-In at my church. While some may dread this sort of all-night gig, I actually love it. In the course of the night, I get to really hang out with the youth, talk to each of them one-on-one, and really catch up with what's going on with their lives. I never leave a Youth Lock-In without having had some pretty precious conversations.

At the last Lock-In, I sat for a while with my friend Phillip, an incredibly bright 16-year old whose mother Cindy is a dear friend of mine. We chatted for a while, and I got a good little update on his life. Then he asked, "So, how is your music going?" I was touched by his question, as I found it pretty thoughtful that this teenage boy would even remember that I was working on my music. "It's going great," I said. And just as I was about to give him more detail, Phillip said, "So, what is your vision for yourself as an artist?"

Oh my gosh! From the mouths of babes! My vision for myself as an artist?

"I...I don't know," I panicked to myself.

"Well, Phillip, ya know...I...I actually need to figure that out. I've done a ton of writing these last 18 months, and I am ready to put it out there." But...my vision for myself as an artist? Phillip had really given me something to think about. And it was long overdue.

Now don't get me wrong. I didn't upheave my life, move out of my home, and leave my high-five-figure salary at Dell to pursue my creative endeavors without some sort of vision in mind. I knew that I wanted to live a creative life, and I knew that I wanted to make music that moved and ministered to people. But I also knew that part of the risk in leaving Dell was in not knowing precisely what lay ahead, in not having an exact plan. I wanted to try many different things, be open to unexpected opportunities, expose myself to lots of learning, let things evolve, and watch and wait for God's direction.

But after 18 months at this, I decided it was time to start implementing some definitive goals, to establish my artistic vision and purpose, and most importantly, to determine how I was going to bring that vision to fruition. And so began many weeks of prayer, thought, and reflection, which have culminated in my finally having some real clarity about the direction of my music career. I will, of course, continue to remain open to opportunities that may lead me slightly off the path and in different directions. After all, the God I serve is a God of surprises, and because of this, my real life has often exceeded my dreams.

So, here we go! This is how I envision my career progressing. I'll start first with WHAT the vision is, and then HOW I plan to get there (all with God's help and provision, of course!).

The WHAT:

- In the immediate future (the next 1-3 years), I would like to perform live at churches, retreats, and other faith-related gatherings, in the hope that this will take me all across the country. I envision that my ministry will focus primarily on pre-adolescent girls, adolescent girls, and grown women, with a particular emphasis on body-image issues, insecurity, and surviving the sex- and beauty-obsessed popular culture and its objectification of women. I want to help women fully realize their true worth as wonderfully made, tremendously loved children of God! (I'm still working on a name for this ministry. Open to suggestions. Brang `em!).

- I would love to be a reguarly gig'ing Austin artist as well. Performing on a consistent basis in the Live Music Capital of The World would be a dream come true. For gigs such as these, I will perform what I call my "Life Music". (See first item below under "The HOW").

- I want to become an Artist on behalf of World Vision. World Vision is a Christian humanitarian organization dedicated to working with children, families, and their communities worldwide to reach their full potential by tackling the causes of poverty and injustice, and responding quickly when disaster strikes. As one of WV's artists, I would make presentations to my audiences about their work, and encourage them to become child sponsors. I will need to be gig'ing regularly in order to be eligible to do this.

- I will record as an independent artist with a backing band.

- For the long-term future, I would like to get a publishing deal as a songwriter. I will be consistently working toward that.

The HOW:

- I will continue to write songs in two genres: The first is Christian Music, which has at its center my personal faith in Jesus Christ and my walk with Him as my Lord and Savior. The second is "Life Music", which is a term I coined as an alternative to the term "Secular Music". Life Music, while not explicitly Christian in nature, is positive, clean, fun, edifying, encouraging, and life-affirming. These are songs that you should hear and recognize your own life in.

- I will once again attend the Gospel Music Association Festival and Competition, which will be held in Nashville, Tennessee July 29th-August 2nd. When I first attended this festival in 2007, I was new to all of this - very green, and mostly concerned with attending its many classes and educating myself about the business. This time, I will be going to compete, and will do so in both the Performing and Songwriting categories. I will also come prepared with a demo, photos, and a promotional package.

- I have identified a number of Open Mikes around town, and will begin playing these SOON. Most of these are at coffeehouses, clubs, and restaurants, but some churches have started hosting open mikes as well. The main benefit of doing these is to gain live performance experience, and to gain the exposure that will hopefully lead to some regular, paying gigs.

- I will be putting a band together for the purposes of recording and performing as an independent artist.

So there have it! You read it here first! Whaddya think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.

In the meantime, thank you for your support and prayers as I continue to pursue this dream!

Love,
Kristin

And The People Said Amen...

2008-11-12T20:55:00.000-08:00

Saw this at Hobby Lobby this week. It spoke to my heart. And it cracked me up.

A Great Memory I Had Today - # 1

2008-09-28T19:57:00.000-07:00

While perusing my bookshelf the other day, I came across an at-home Bible Study that I had done many years ago called "Becoming A Woman of Excellence" by Cynthia Heald. It was very interesting to look through it and read all of my notes - to see how I had answered certain questions, and to get a glimpse of where I was in my head and in my heart back then.

On page 15, I noticed a Scripture that I had underlined. It was 1 Samuel 16:7 - "The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."

I suddenly was transported back to the first time I ever saw this Scripture. I actually don't remember many of the details around my discovery of this Scripture, or how I even came across it. But I do remember how I felt the first time I read those words. It was actually many years before I did the Cynthia Heald study. Indeed, I know exactly when it was, because I marked it in my Bible: February 22nd, 1991.

I was a 21-year old college Senior, and like many women in America, I had spent a number of years battling body image issues, trying to live up to impossible beauty standards, and often struggling with the feeling that my value was directly and inexorably tied to how I looked.

So when I read these words in Holy Scripture - man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart - it was just one of those moments when I knew - I just knew - that I had encountered great Truth. Furthermore, it affirmed all of the things that I had theretofore come to know and understand about God's character - His goodness, His compassion, and His unfailing ability to fly in the face of all of the lies the world loves to tell us. Your only value is in your appearance? Nonsense, says God. You're only as good as you are beautiful? Rubbish, says God. You gotta look just like the girl on the cover of that magazine? A heaping, stinking pile of lies, says God.

Now, don't get me wrong...I'm as much a girly-girl as the next girl. I've got big love for hair, makeup, shopping, clothes, shoes, jewelry, purses, pedi's, mani's - you name it. And I don't see anything wrong with any of that. It's all a blast, and for me, one of the most fun parts about being a woman. But in our aesthetically-obsessed culture, in which the impossible goal of physical perfection is the stated ideal, and qualities such as character, kindness, morality, and selflessness are often deemed unimportant, I rest in the knowledge that the Sovereign God says that what He cares about the most is our hearts.

Thanks be to God for His bold, life-changing, audacious words of Truth!

Funny Thing My Dad Said - # 4

2008-09-28T19:55:00.000-07:00

I came home from the restaurant one afternoon and said, "Daddy, I got the nicest compliment from one of my customers today, a very sweet older lady." He replied, "Oh yeah? What did she say?" I said, "Well, I had just come up and greeted her, and she looked right at me and said, 'Well honey, you are so pretty!' Isn't that sweet?" Daddy replied, "Oh that is very sweet. Too bad she has cataracts though..."

Ok Ya'll, This Made Me Laugh - #1

2008-09-28T19:25:00.000-07:00

I was driving to work last evening and was in a bit of a hurry. I wasn't running late, but I was running "on time", and because Saturday nights at the restaurant are so busy, being on time is critical.

I am generally a very good driver, and in particular, a very courteous driver. I have the name of "Jesus" in an ichthus on the back of my car, so the manner in which I treat people on the road really matters. I can't espouse the tenets of Jesus on my bumper and then go and act like Satan himself at the wheel. I'm ultra-conscientious about the way I drive.

Anyway, I was pulling out of my neighborhood and onto a highway frontage road. A few cars were coming down the hill, but I felt for sure I could beat them all. I began inching my car out, when I suddenly realized there was a minivan coming down at such a rate of speed that I simply was not going to be able to pull out. I mean, I could have, but I would have had to rudely peel out in front of her. So, I stopped, but I was already a couple of feet into her lane.

Right as she passed me, she slowed a bit, and I gave her a sheepish little wave, ya know, the universal sign for, "My bad, I messed up, I'm so sorry."

I expected a wave back. I mean, can't we all just get along? Honest mistake, let's move on from this, right? Well, it was not to be. Indeed, what happened next was astounding.

She wagged her finger at me. Let me repeat that: She wagged her finger at me. Three times, in fact. Wag. Wag. Wag.

Ok ya'll. No one has wagged their finger at me since Bill Clinton told me that he definitely did NOT have any kind of relations with "that woman." And let me just say for the record that I didn't like finger-wagging then, and I don't like it now.

I sorta couldn't believe it. I began to wonder if she had said anything aloud to me as well, ya know, like: "You better mind your p's and q's little missy!" Or perhaps, "Maybe you need to go to your room and think about what you did." I almost felt a lump in my throat, as if I was going to cry, just out of sheer humiliation. But had I done that, I felt certain she would have turned her car around, walked right over to my window, and told me that I'd better stop that crying or she'd give me something to really cry about.

As I continued driving to work, I started lightening up a bit, and realized that this had been a hilarious incident. I began HOWLING thinking about it. I had been admonished with a finger-wagging from a complete stranger in a minivan!

I lost my mother a few years ago, and I am always grateful for any little bits of mothering that I can get. But this was not exactly what I had in mind...

I Heart Robert Wagner

2008-09-22T06:56:00.000-07:00

OK, ya'll. Yesterday I was watching "Good Morning America" and they were talking about the actor Robert Wagner's new autobiography, "Pieces of my Heart". They were showing several photos from his life, and as I was watching this, I suddenly remembered something that had slipped my mind:

Robert Wagner is the hottest guy to ever walk this earth.

Seriously people. Seriously.

How I could ever have forgotten this, I do not know.

On top of that - and really, more importantly - he is widely regarded as one of the nicest, most charming, and most gracious gentleman that Hollywood has ever known.

Out of the kindness of my heart, I am going to share with you a few photos of him.

People often ask me what my "type" is. Well...yer lookin' at it.

Early photo, probably from the 1950's:

So debonair in the 60's! I wanna play with his hair:

I absolutely LOVE this turtleneck and blazer look. If I were married to Robert Wagner, he would have to dress this way every day:

With the love of his life, Natalie Wood. The fact that he is wearing a gold chain is completely forgiven:

As super-suave Jonathan Hart from the "Hart to Hart" TV series:

And as a bonus, check out this smoldering photo from the cover of his new book:

You're welcome.

Funny Thing My Dad Said - #3

2008-09-21T19:41:00.001-07:00

I live with my 71-year old father, who is paralyzed from the neck down as the result of a massive stroke he had almost six years ago. Despite this, his mind is as sharp and clever and irreverent as ever, and his only limitations are physical. He has always been One Of The Funniest People I Know, and almost daily, he says something that practically makes me laugh up a lung.

The first semester of my freshman year in high school, my Dad drove me to school every morning. My older sister would normally have driven me, but she had drill team practice early in the morning, and my mother was busy getting my three younger siblings off to their respective schools. So, throughout the Fall of 1983, Daddy and I carpooled.

Dad and I were recently watching "Best of the 80's Videos" on VH1, and a video by the Stray Cats came on. I said, "Oh my gosh! Daddy, I used to make you listen to my Stray Cats tape when you took me to school in the 9th grade! Do you remember that one year when you drove me to school every morning?"

To which he replied: "Yes, I remember very well because it was the year I started drinking."

Confessions of a Dork - #1

2008-09-21T19:26:00.000-07:00

Yours truly is a four-star geek, and almost daily, I do or say something that raises my dorkiness to stratospheric levels. Case in point:

The other day, I went to my brother's house to go see my sister-in-law and my nephew. I have been over there many times and have always been made to feel very welcome and right at home. So, it was quite natural for me to walk into the kitchen to grab a drink. I filled my cup with ice, made my way to the sink, and turned the faucet on to get some water.

Before I even knew what hit me, my hair and my shirt were soaking wet. I thought for a moment that I might have been shot. Ya know, by a gun. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some water shooting projectile across the kitchen. It seemed as though gallons of water were flying through the air. Water hitting the kitchen island, water hitting the microwave, water hitting the cabinets. Water flippin' everywhere. What was going on?

Somehow I was able to fumble my way through the deluge and turn the faucet off. My sister-in-law Christy - she being possessed of a sweet and gentle spirit - calmly said, "Oh...that faucet is broken." She apologized profusely, somehow thinking it was her fault that I had just caused a major cataclysm her kitchen.

Here is what I looked like after said incident:

Here is a picture of the faucet.

Clearly missing a major piece. Why I did not notice that this was an obvious aberration from the norm, I do not know, nor do I want to discuss.

It merely confirms my status as a Dork.

Remembering My Mom

2008-09-16T08:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the 4th anniversary of my mother's death. She died at age 62 from a pulmonary embolism, after battling illness for many hard-fought years. I have written about her a number of times, but for anyone who does not know...she was one of the greatest ladies who ever lived: A devoted wife, a wonderful mother, a dear friend, and a gracious hostess. Her life was one marked by kindness, compassion, selflessness, intelligence, and humor. She is missed so dearly, but who she was and how she lived continues to impact and influence each of us every day.

It is always important to us to mark this anniversary in a significant way, and this year was no exception. My sister is in town with her kids Rachel and Christopher (they are Hurricane Ike evacuees) and my nephew Camden lives here in Austin. So, we decided that we wanted the grandkids to participate in remembering her. Although only Rachel remembers my Mom (Christopher was only 20 months old when she died and Camden was born the day of her funeral), they are very familiar with her because we so often share with them stories and pictures of her.

The family met at mine and Dad's house in the evening, and we decided to have the kids release balloons to the heavens in memory of Mom. They were so enthusiastic, and it was so very sweet! We followed the balloon release with dinner from Mr. Gatti's Pizza, which was always one of Mom's favorites. That was followed by watching the Dallas Cowboys on Monday Night Football, which Mom also loved, being the huge sports fan that she was. (One of the legendary stories about Mom is that she actually cried after the Pittsburgh Steelers beat the Dallas Cowboys in the 1979 Super Bowl. I can still see her crying in the kitchen like it was yesterday. Hers were tears of outrage over some bad calls that the Cowboys had gotten. Don't get anyone in my family started on this. We are still mad about it, some 29 years later).

Anyway, it was a great evening overall, one that Mom would have loved. And once again, we found ourseleves, even in the midst of our grief, feeling very blessed.

Here is a picture of the kids with their balloons (from left to right, that's Rachel, Christopher, and Camden).

And here is a video of the kids releasing the balloons. The grandkids always called her "Mum." (You'll have to forgive some of the laughter on the video. We Werners don't do anything without humor, and yes, that includes grief):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30z-QqUr1IU

And, for true comic relief, here is a video of Rachel and Christopher releasing the final balloon, but only after arguing about it first:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIQ7-OyODOA

Finally, here's a picture of my Mom holding me when I was a month old (she is on the right, in red). Is she 60's cool, or what?

Thanks be to God for the life of this woman.

The Return of an Unfortunate Trend

2008-09-09T11:21:00.001-07:00

People.

Shutter shades are back.

I wanna know who's responsible, and I wanna know now.

Can the return of parachute pants be far behind?

Or worse yet...the return of tight-rolled pants?

Stop the madness.

End the lunacy.

Just say no to shutter shades.

Back From The Beach!

2008-09-09T09:34:00.000-07:00

Howdy All!

I have returned from my trip to South Padre Island, and am thrilled to report that it was a perfect week! I spent a ton of time praying and writing, and once again, have returned from this vacation feeling both spiritually and physically rejuvenated. Praise God! We had beautiful weather (amazing, considering all of the storms that were brewing in the Gulf), wonderful meals (lovingly prepared by the trips' matriarch, Carol), LOTS of laughter (of the pee-in-your-pants variety), spirited political discussions (what with the Republican Convention being on and all), and just lots of good rest and relaxation (with the possible exception of my friend Tammi, who had her 3- and 8-year old sons in tow. Bless her). The gals I was with also did a lot of shopping, and have very likely single-handedly helped the Island recoup any and all revenue losses caused by Hurricane Dolly.

Speaking of which, many of you have asked what kind of condition the Island is in since Dolly made landfall there on July 23rd. For the most part, the Island has recovered well. There are a few major hotels (including the Radisson and the Sheraton) that have completely closed their doors until Fall in order to do major repairs, and it was weird to see those usually busy and bustling places so quiet. Some businesses have closed permanently, or at least for the rest of the season, but for the most part, everyone is back in business and seem to have not missed a beat!

Almost every single establishment on the Island has some damage to their signage, and that was the biggest indication of the destruction that Dolly brought. I very much appreciated this t-shirt shop's sense of humor:

I wish I had more pictures to share with you from the trip, but unfortunately, I had camera issues all week! The first few days, all of my pictures were turning out dark. Then my batteries ran out, so I bought some more, but they did not work. Grrrr! I finally did get some working batteries, but the next day I dropped the camera and the battery cover came loose, so the batteries would not stay in the camera. Gah! Can I be any more of a spazz? Drama!

If any of you would like to come and see how savagely tan I am, just call me and we'll schedule a viewing.

Tales of a Restricted Budget - #1

2008-09-01T22:41:00.000-07:00

Herein you will find anecdotes about how my life has changed since going from a high five-figure corporate salary to a waitress's/musician's wage.

Because I was saving money up for my vaca, I could not afford to get a pedicure before I left. See disgraceful picture below:

This is shameful. This is scandalous. This is a sin against all womanhood. Maybe even against all mankind.

And no, I'm not gonna show you the other foot because it is even worse.

And no, I cannot do my toenails myself because for some reason, when I try to do it, my motor skills degenerate to that of a two-year old.

Funny Thing My Dad Said - #2

2008-09-01T22:33:00.000-07:00

Last week I went to the dentist and had to go straight to work afterwards. I came home that night and was relating to Daddy how goofy I looked when I got to work. I said, "Daddy, I was still completely numb from the novacaine and my face looked all distorted and contorted!" He replied, "Your face has looked distorted and contorted since 1969."

Note: 1969 is the year I was born.

A Good Sign...

2008-09-01T21:53:00.000-07:00

Ya'll.

When we got to the beach house Saturday evening, one of the kiddos turned on the TV. I hardly even noticed that he had done so, but then...I heard it. What did I hear, you ask? The unmistakable sounds of the greatest musical of all time, "The Sound of Music." Could it really be that in the very same moment that I was arriving at my island paradise, my favorite movie was on as well? The first movie that moved my heart to song, that set me on a course toward a lifetime love and passion for music?

I turned to look at the TV, and there it was, all of it - the majestic Austrian alps, the chirping birds, the magnificent lakes, the opening strains of Rodger's and Hammerstein's masterful score. And within minutes, the sight of Julie Andrews spinning atop the Untersberg, her four-octave voice reminding me once again that the hills are indeed alive with the sound of music.

Never mind that I own this movie and its soundtrack in virtually every media format. Never mind that I have seen it roughly one thousand seven hundred and forty two times. Never mind that, thanks to the DVD world we live in, watching "The Sound of Music" on TV is no longer the treasured once-a-year-only ritual that it once was.

The point is...it was a good sign my friends. A good sign! A good sign that the week ahead would be a blessed one - one filled with goodness and music and love and laughter and friendship. How could it not be so?

One final note: I had to laugh when I saw that they were showing the movie in closed-caption, ya know, with the words provided at the bottom of the screen.

Um, yeah, like I really need the words...

Greetings From South Padre Island!

2008-09-01T20:39:00.000-07:00

Howdy All!

We arrived safely in South Padre on Saturday evening, and all is going wonderfully! I am down here with a group of lifelong girlfriends and two of their kiddos, and we are here for the 12th year in a row! In the past, we have always stayed at the Saida Towers Condominiums, but this week, we decided to rent a house, and I am pleased to report that it is ab fab! It is beautifully decorated, a stone's throw from the beach, loaded with all the fine amenities, and big enough to accommodate us all very comfortably. It has tile throughout, so the sound just bounces all over the place. Consequently, it is a cacophony of noise, clamor, laughter, and racket. Which come to think of it, is perfectly fine with me. I was raised on such noise, you know...

I have been assigned to what is clearly a kids' room. It has two twin beds, and, hilariously, is decorated with a pirate's theme. These are the images that I am falling asleep to every night:

Ok, that Pirate's Cove one is a little creepy, is it not? It cracks me up, because the last image that I typically see before I go to bed each night is this picture of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gesthemane:

Clearly, I am away from home.

Ok, more to come! Stay tuned. Or I'll make ya walk the plank. ARRRRRR!

Funny Thing My Dad Said - #1

2008-08-22T09:49:00.000-07:00

Dad and I were talking the other night, and he was asking me how many kids most of my friends have. I was telling him that it pretty much runs the spectrum - some have one, some have five or six - but that most of my friends have two kids. I went on to tell him that many of them are currently on the fence as to whether or not to have a third. He said, "Tell them all to stop at two. Your mother and I always wished we'd stopped at two."

Note: I am the third child.

I'm Baaaaack...

2008-08-18T11:07:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone!

Your not-so-very-faithful correspondent is back after a nearly 4-month absence. Since you cannot see me right now, please be assured that my head is hanging in shame.

In all honesty, it has been a struggle for me to maintain this blog. This is puzzling to me, because I love to write and I love to share personal anecdotes, as well as offer my thoughts on faith, family, friendship, grief, love, etc. So I recently began to ask myself why I have not been better about keeping up with this blog, and I think I have finally nailed it:

You see, every year, I mail out an "Annual Year in Review" to just about everyone I know. It is generally 6-8 pages long (single-spaced), and is accompanied by anywhere from 20-35 pictures. It provides extensive updates on my family, news about my travels, information about my current hairstyle, and a review of the current state of my love life. It also contains a few surprises, usually one or more stories about some fanstastically embarassing things that have happened to me in the course of the year. It also offers my thoughts on life and faith, as well as the truths and principles that I hold dear.

Put simply, it's very comprehensive. And on top of that, I send a weekly email update out to about fifty of my best friends, letting them know how my weekend was, what's been going on at work, and what my work schedule looks like for the coming week. I'll also occasionally provide an update on my music and writing and other creative pursuits.

So all of this begs the question: What does this leave for The Blog? I'm already sort of giving you information overload, am I not? I have been pondering this lately, and I think I have come up with a solution. Here's what you can look forward to on The Blog:

- Updates on my music and writing career. (I'll remove that from the weekly email).
- How God is moving in my life and in my church.
- Bragadocious tales about my much-adored nieces and nephews.
- Tales of inspiration from folks I meet along the way.

And on the lighter side, six new regular features:

- Confessions of a Dork: Yours truly is a four-star geek, and almost daily, I do or say something that raises my dorkiness to stratospheric levels.
- Tales of a Restricted Budget: Anecdotes about how my life has changed since going from a high five-figure corporate salary to a waitress's wage.
- Pet Peeve of the Week: Pretty self-explanatory. I'll try to keep this light and not too judgemental or negative. I loathe negativity, but we all have things that get under our skin, right?
- A Great Memory I Had Today: Also pretty self-explanatory. I have really good recall, so my head is constantly swirling with memories ranging from the ridiculous to the sublime. Some are simply too good not to share.
- Ok Ya'll. This Made Me Laugh: Tales of funny things that I encounter in everyday life. Like when I was at a neighborhood pool over the weekend, and one of the pools had a sign posted outside of it that said, "Pool closed due to fecal contamination." :-/
- Funny Thing My Dad Said: I live with my 71-year old father, who is paralyzed from the neck down as the result of a massive stroke he had almost six years ago. Despite this, his mind is as sharp and clever and irreverent as ever, and his only limitations are physical. He has always been One Of The Funniest People I Know, and almost daily, he says something that practically makes me laugh up a lung.

So, there ya have it. I've always needed structure to perform well, so I think this plan will work. I hope you'll tune in. When I see you, I'm gonna quiz you to make sure you are. ;-)

Love & Kisses,
Kristin

You Know I Love My City, But...

2008-05-05T22:49:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to show you what it's like to be an Aggie in Austin, Texas.

This is a picture I recently took at H.E.B., the grocery store at which I shop:

Note in the foreground the rows and rows and rows of Texas Longhorn paraphernalia. Longhorn T-shirts, Longhorn chairs, Longhorn flip-flops, Longhorn coffee mugs, Longhorn flags, Longhorn balloons.

Now, take a closer look. And look far in the distance, way there yonder in the back forty, in a galaxy far, far away. And thither will you see a lone Texas A&M t-shirt, standing proudly, hanging on to its last shred of dignity, and shining its maroon light for all to see.

Shine on little shirt, shine on!

Brooke's New Tennis Shoes

2008-05-05T13:18:00.001-07:00

My sister Brooke is almost three years older than me, and has always been somewhat of a fashion and beauty mentor to me. I swear she came out of the womb with an innate sense of style. Her entire life, she has a been a paragon of grace, beauty, poise, and ultra-femininity. Here's a recent pic of her and her punkin' of a husband, Tom:

My mother always loved to tell the hilarious story of Brooke's first meeting with her kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Hector. Mrs. Hector was actually going to the homes of her new students to meet each one of them personally prior to the start of school. Evidently, Brooke inisisted on dressing herself for the occasion, and when Mrs. Hector arrived, Brooke emerged from her bedroom in a long, flowing gown and - this is the best - white gloves, all the way up to the elbows. To this day, she loves everything flowy and flowery, she is always perfectly accessorized, has every hair in place, and without exception, has the most darling shoes on.

So, you can imagine my surprise when I was on the phone with Brooke a few weeks ago and she shared with me how excited she was about her "new tennis shoes". I said, "Tennis shoes? You mean, like, athletic shoes?" And she says, "Yes! They're SO cool!" It wasn't that I was surprised to hear that she had bought athletic shoes - after all, she walks and works out regularly - but I was surprised that she was so excited about it. That's because I was picturing something like this:

A few weeks later, Brooke came into town for a visit. And almost right away, she said to me, "Oh! Look at my new tennis shoes!"

And ya'll. This is what I looked down and saw:

Ok. I seriously almost laughed up a lung. I was like, "Brooke, you have got to be kidding." And she was like, "Whaddya mean?" And I go, "Brooke! What in the name of all that is holy makes you think these are tennis shoes?" And she says, "Well, they're Skechers! And they have a rubber soul!" HAAAA! I said, "Brookie! They have straps and sequins on them! Sequins!"

We were both howling, and we went back and forth like this for a while. And actually, I am still sort of harassing about this to this day.

So...anyway, I just find it so completely cute and charming that she really considers the above shoe to be a sneaker. And I just had to share...

A Recovered Memory

2008-04-30T18:37:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I am a devout "American Idol" fan. One might even call me an "American Idol" Geek, a title which I would gladly and proudly accept. I haven't missed a single episode in years, and this past Tuesday night was no exception. The guest artist was Neil Diamond, who has been one of my favorite artists for 30+ years. He's a tremendous songwriter with a huge body of work, so I knew I was in for some great songs.

The evening proved me right.

But there was one song I had forgotten about.

This happens to me periodically. My love of music is colossal, and I have pretty varied musical tastes. In my 38 years, I've fallen in love with literally thousands of songs, spanning multiple decades and crossing multiple genres. And there's almost nothing I love more than hearing a song that I had forgotten about, falling in love with it all over again, and jumping onto I-Tunes as soon as humanly possible to get that song downloaded.

This past Tuesday night, that song was "Hello Again". It came out in 1980 on Neil Diamond's "The Jazz Singer" soundtrack. I remember loving the song, and I remember my older sister Julie loving the song (and blaring it from her bedroom stereo!). But I especially remember my Mom loving the song. And indeed, when AI contestant Syesha came on-screen and the opening notes to "Hello Again" started, I was instantly transported.

Transported to 1980. Transported to 6th grade. Transported to a station wagon driven by the sweetest and most beautiful woman on earth - my mother. She had that "Jazz Singer" soundtrack (on cassette tape, of course!), and played it endlessly. We'd sing aloud to it at the top of our lungs as she shuttled me to and from school and various extracurricular activities. Honestly, hearing that song on AI Tuesday night literally put me right back in that time and place. Such is the power and magic of music.

There is a line from the movie "You've Got Mail" when Meg Ryan's character Kathleen Kelly says "I'm missing my mother so much, I can hardly breathe." That's how I felt Tuesday night when I heard "Hello Again" for the first time in a very, very long time. It made me miss my mother terribly, and I wept throughout Syesha's performance, especially when the song reached its crescendo:

Maybe it's been crazy
And maybe I'm to blame
But I put my heart above my head
We've been through it all
And you loved me just the same
And when you're not there
I just need to hear
Hello, my friend, hello

And yet, as is so often the case when these moments of grief strike me so suddenly, in the midst of it, I couldn't help but feel grateful. Grateful that music ties me emotionally to so many happy memories in my life, especially memories of my mother. Grateful for my mother's great passion for music, which no doubt influenced my own. I mean, there was never not music in her car. And there's never not music in my car either.

And finally, grateful that I know that I will someday see her again, that it will be a glorious reunion, and that the heavens will be filled with music when that day comes.

This Made My Day

2008-04-24T15:04:00.000-07:00

Hey Everybody,

If you're ever wanting to promote a sale or an event or anything of any kind, this is the dude to hire.

Check out the video that I took. Make sure you have your sound on:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7fE8WXBog4

Unexpected Delight at Table 50

2008-04-24T14:55:00.000-07:00

I work as a server as California Pizza Kitchen at the Domain here in Austin. My real career is songwriter, singer, and writer, but working at CPK is how I pay the bills for now.

After spending 14 years in a cubicle in the corporate world, and interacting with customers mostly by just email or phone, it has been a real treat to interact face-to-face and so personally with people every day. I consider it a ministry of sorts - how can I truly serve and bless these people today in a really tangible way? It's very cool.

A number of folks warned me that waiting tables would eventually lead me to hate people. Interestingly, I have found that it has had the exact opposite effect. Don't get me wrong. I have had some crabby, difficult, rude, impolite, and even abusive customers. But they are a small minority. Most people are basically kind, gracious, and appreciative. Many are even downright fun. But sometimes the fun comes in unexpected packaging. Allow me to explain...

I was recently working a weekday lunch, it was nearing the end of my shift, and I was pretty satisfied already with the tips I had made. I was also pretty tired, a little grumpy, and not feeling up to waiting on another table. Basically I was being, as Beth Moore would say, Queen Complainey from the Hawhiney Islands.

I saw an older lady come through the door and I was one of only a couple of servers still on the floor. Because I have a reputation for never refusing a table, I knew I'd be asked to handle it. And sure enough I was.

She was sitting at Table 50, and there was nothing in her appearance or demeanor that suggested the revelry she would soon provide. I approached her with a smile that belied my cranky mood. "Hello," I said, "I'm Kristin and I'll be taking care of you today." No sooner was the sentence off my lips when she looked right at me and said, "Let me ask you something." "Yes ma'am," I said, expecting a question about our interminably long menu. Instead, she looked right at me and said, "Are you behaving yourself today?"

HA! What a hoot! I immediately felt my mood lighten. I said, "Am I behaving? Well, I'm doing my best!" And she looked at me squarely and said, "That doesn't sound convincing, Kristin." We continued to have some delightful banter around this question of whether or not I was behaving and whether or not she was behaving. That led to a conversation about her recent trip to Macy's to buy 1oz of perfume that she had seen on sale online, but dangit, the actual store only carried the 2oz bottle, so of course, she had to buy it in the 2oz size.

And throughout her late lunch that day, we talked about perfume and lipstick and her children and grandchildren. She shared with me that the first thing she does in the morning is get on her computer, and I told her I did the exact same thing. And we learned that we were both Christians - and in fact, both Baptists - and that we both enjoy life in the city and possess a wealth of friends in our lives. Everything she said was tinged with humor and whimsy, and soon every remaining ounce of grouchiness had completely left me.

She told me that her name was Joan, and I positively begged her to ask for my section next time she comes in. I left work that afternoon feeling immensely grateful. Joan not only cracked me up and warmed my heart, but she reminded me of the great, life-affirming, spirit-lifting, self-absorption-smashing, bad-mood-shattering JOY that comes from actively practicing the most vital aspect of my faith - LOVING PEOPLE.

Thank you God, and thank you Joan.

Words From Dr. King

2008-04-04T21:59:00.000-07:00

It was forty years ago today that civil rights leader Martin Luther King. Jr. was assassinated on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee.

I own a book entitled "A Testament of Hope", which is a collection of King's greatest speeches and writings. One of the most compelling among these is King's "Eulogy For The Martyred Children". This is the eulogy that Dr. King delivered at the funeral of the four little girls that were killed on September 15th, 1963 in the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama. Within this eulogy are words that are among the most powerful and beautiful that I have ever read. They reflect the character of God so accurately, and have throughout the years brought me tremendous comfort. I wanted to share them with you today:

"At times, life is hard, as hard as crucible steel. It has its bleak and painful moments. Like the ever-flowing waters of a river, life has its moments of drought and its moments of flood. Like the ever-changing cycle of the seasons, life has the soothing warmth of the summers and the piercing chill of its winters. But through it all, God walks with us. Never forget that God is able to lift you from the fatigue of despair to the buoyancy of hope, and transform dark and desolate valleys into sunlit paths of inner peace."

Amen.

Ok, Drawing Is Not My Gift

2008-04-03T01:01:00.001-07:00

While dyeing Easter eggs last week with my family, my 5-year old nephew Christopher asked me to draw an Easter Bunny on an egg for him. Because he is so ridiculously cute and sweet, his every wish is my command, so I readily complied. How could I resist this face?

Ok, so...I am an artist, but I am a writing and singing kind of artist, not a drawing kind of artist. But I figured I could manage an Easter Bunny. Here was the net result:

Christopher loved it. But when the rest of my family saw it, they absolutely HOWLED, as it was further proof of my complete and utter lack of artistic ability. Among their comments were:

"Why does he have a belly button?"
"Where is his mouth?"
"What's with the stick arms and legs?"

And the best comment of all, from my sister Brooke:

"Why does your Easter Bunny have an umbilical hernia?"

Now ya'll, that's just mean.

So Stinkin' Proud!

2008-04-02T16:05:00.000-07:00

I have a 12-year old niece named Darby who lives in Georgia. She is the youngest daughter of my oldest sister Julie. She is also my Goddaughter, and I have adored this precious creature from the first moment I held her in my arms, when she was about 10 hours old. Here's a picture of that very moment:

Ok ya'll. I know. I look VERY young. No crows feet or nothin'. Let's not go there. The point is that this photo literally captures me in the very moment that I am falling in love with this child.

I have been told that when I have my own children, I will feel an even greater love. And honestly, so tremendous is my love for Darby - and for ALL of my nieces and nephews - that it is hard for me to imagine my heart being able to handle much more! And yet I know it will be true. Too many people have told me.

Darby (a/k/a Darby-Doo, Darbs, Doodle, and The Doodlebug) has, within the last year or so, become very involved in the youth group at her church. She has made critical decisions about her faith, and church has become a big part of her already-busy life. Aunt Krissy is, of course, thrilled about this.

Darby's mother (again, my sister Julie) called me recently to tell me that Darby was going to be participating in a 30-hour fast in order to raise money for World Hunger. I immediately felt so proud of my Doodlebug, because she has a high metabolism, and has to eat often. So I knew this would be a real challenge for her.

Julie then went on to tell me that Darby had decided to do the fast at the last minute, and therefore, had not had the time to raise any money for the cause. Julie offered to pledge the money, but Darby felt like that was too easy. Instead, she decided that she would take the $50 remaining from her Christmas money, and contribute that to the World Hunger cause.

Wow.

Now, let me explain the reason for my "Wow". First of all, $50 is a lot of money when you're 12-years old. Heck, it still feels like a lot to me sometimes. It's a significant amount to give away. Secondly, Darby is a kid who loves to shop. I know how much she would have enjoyed spending that money on clothes and shoes. In fact, when she was younger and I would come and visit her and her family in Georgia, the first thing she would say to me was, "Krissy, did you bring your credit cards?" (Ha, ha. So funny. She has always been a trip-and-a-half, this kid).

The bottom line is that it was a big deal for Darby to give up money and food. And it made me and Julie feel like she is really starting to understand some of the integral aspects of her faith. Sacrifice. Generosity. Selflessness. "Looking not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others." (Philippians 2:4).

Anyway, I am so proud, I could burst. What a delight to see this young woman taking the first steps in her faith journey, and doing so with such characteristic cheerfulness.

I'll leave you with two pictures. The first is of me and Darby at her 2nd birthday party in 1998. It is important to note that, hilariously, Darby did not smile in any pictures the first two years of her life. I think she thought she was smiling, but she wasn't. This all changed when she was about two-and-a-half, and she has been a major poser ever since.

The second picture is the two of us in the same pose just a week and a half ago on Easter Sunday.

Once my Doodlebug, always my Doodlebug.

Not Enough Blogging!

2008-03-27T06:51:00.000-07:00

Hey All!

Well, once again, I must apologize that it has been two months since my last blog posting. There are several reasons for that, but I'll spare you those details and simply say this: I am making a re-commitment to my blog this week. Renewing my blog vows if you will.

I recently returned from a week-long trip to the GLORIOUS mountains of Red River, New Mexico, and found wonderful refreshment and inspiration there! (Honestly, if you can't find inspiration there, then I'm not sure where you can. I mean, exquisite doesn't even BEGIN to describe it). Here's a pic of me, the mountains, and some friends from the trip! From left to right, that's Becky, Kayla, me, Philip and Chuck.

Gah this was a fun day!

All right, so...Hear ye, hear ye! Let it be known in all the land that from this day forth, not a week shall passeth without a new blog post from thy humble servant. To thee I make this solemn vow.

After all, I know how much you've missed my ramblings...

Um, What's Goin' On Here Ya'll?

2008-01-15T21:55:00.000-08:00

Check out the middle stoplight.

Did we have some installation problems here? HA! I'm sure there is some reason for this, and that it was done on purpose, but I had to laugh at the possible scenario:

"Hey Bob?"

"Yeah Jim."

"Um, I accidentally put this stoplight on backwards."

"Well, that's all right. They can look at the other two to see whether or not to stop or go."

"That's true. I'll leave it as is."

Lessons In Humility

2008-01-08T22:39:00.000-08:00

Do you wish to rise? Begin by descending. You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility. - Saint Augustine

Howdy All and Happy New Year! I am SO sorry it has been a while since I have posted to the Blog. It has not been for lack of material, I assure you! Indeed, the last several weeks have been incredibly eventful, fraught with changes and challenges, but enriched by some nice victories as well.

As many of you reading this already know, I left Dell Inc. in April of 2007 - after 14 years at the company - to pursue a career as a singer/songwriter and screenwriter. I had bathed this decision in months and months of prayer, and felt very certain about the choice I was making. As is often the case with any major, life-changing decision, I felt a normal mix of anticipation and trepidation. I was confident that some very cool and exciting things lay ahead, but that confidence was coupled with a natural fear of the unknown. I remember shortly before I left Dell someone asked me, "So...are you excited? Are you scared?" And I replied, "Yes and yes." Truer words never spoken. I was thrilled, but terrified.

I am pleased to report that, in the months since leaving Dell, the terror has abated significantly, while the excitement has only grown. Long-dormant creative spaces in my heart and mind have been opened up, and I have written more in the last 8 months than I had in the last 8 years. It has been tremendously satisfying, and a real blast. It has also been abounding in personal and spiritual growth, new experiences, and lessons learned. There is so much that I could write about! But today, I want to write about some Lessons In Humility that I have experienced over the course of the last few months. First, let's take a look at Webster's definition here:

hum·ble/hu·mil·i·ty
1. Marked by meekness or modesty in behavior, attitude, or spirit; not arrogant or prideful.
2. Showing deferential or submissive respect: a humble apology.
3. Low in rank, quality, or station; unpretentious or lowly

Now, upon my first mention of humility and upon reading the above definition of it, you might have felt an uncomfortable twinge. The word sounds so similar to humiliation, and can suggest a beating down of sorts. But really, this is not the case, at least not as far as I'm concerned. Humility is not something that I consider to be a negative thing. Indeed, as a Bible-believing Christian, I believe humility to be a high calling, a quality that is highly praised and valued and honored by my God. It is a characteristic that brings one into deeper communion with Him, into greater understanding of oneself, and into greater compassion and empathy for one's fellow man.

Having said that, Lessons In Humility can make you feel lousy. Real stinkin' lousy.

I mean, for me to fail to mention that would be dishonest and disingenuous. But I'll say again, it's the real stinkin' lousy times that strengthen and stretch us, and ultimately, remind of us who we are and where our true value and identity come from. So, I can honestly say, I am truly grateful for these humbling events and what they have taught me.

My first significant Lesson In Humility occurred in July when I attended the Gospel Music Association Festival in Estes Park, Colorado. If you refer to my August posts, you will see that my days at the GMA Festival were incredibly valuable and great fun, and the whole experience was tremendously positive. But the week did hold its share of humbling experiences. In the course of the week, I decided to participate in the Vocal Competition. I had not planned on doing this, as I was primarily there to learn, but decided that it would be great experience to do so. My critique sheets from the music industry judges were generally positive, but many of the marks were just average or (gasp!) slightly-below-average. For the last 22 years of my life, I have been praised and lauded and exalted for my music and singing abilities, so receiving average to slightly-below-average marks was humbling indeed.

LESSONS LEARNED: 1) I am not "all that", 2) there are MANY talented people out there, and many who are more talented than me, and 3) I have to work work work on my craft so that I can continue to get better. No resting on natural ability. For these Lessons In Humility, I am so grateful, for "God gives grace to the humble." (Proverbs 3:34)

Lessons In Humility, Round 2 began in the middle of August, when I suddenly began to feel strangely ill. It is important to note here that I am a person who is rarely sick. Growing up, I had many years of perfect school attendance. In 14 years at Dell, I think I missed a total of about 7 days due to illness. Stomach viruses, flu bugs, colds and sore throats would sweep through my entire family or work area and pass me right over. And even when I did get sick, it would rarely keep me down and out for too long. But this - this was a bear. To this day, I'm not sure exactly what I had, and the only real diagnosis I ever got following numerous visits to the doctor was "some kind of virus." The mystery virus would strike me for two or three days at a time, go away for a few days, and then rear its ugly head again. It was marked by extreme fatigue, achiness, general malaise, and a wicked, I'd-rather-spit-than-have-to-swallow sore throat. The virus came and went for weeks. I spent days at a time in bed. I had never in my life experienced anything like it.

One night, during what would be the virus's final appearance, the sore throat pain was so severe, that I actually decided to take some painkiller. The painkiller hardly touched the pain, but it did help me sleep. And I'll spare you details here, but painkiller has always had a somewhat unfortunate effect on my body, and this situation was no exception. Let's just say that the resolution to this issue involved an enema. Lovely. TMI? Perhaps. Sorry.

Following said enema, I lay prostrate on the ground of my bathroom floor - sick, exhausted, lonely, and spent, my tears falling onto the bathroom tile. I thought of one of my favorite lyrics from the song "To Life (L'Chaim)" from "Fiddler On The Roof": God would like us to be joyful even when our hearts lie panting on the floor. Joy I could not muster, but calling on my God and praying for His mercy? That I could do. And did. And mercy came. The virus never returned again.

LESSONS LEARNED: 1) Good health, which I have enjoyed my entire life, is a precious gift that is not to be taken for granted, 2) I have a new understanding of the pain and isolation that comes with illness, and 3) I am not in control. For these Lessons In Humility, I am so grateful, for "God gives grace to the humble." (Proverbs 3:34)

In between bouts of the virus, I was interviewing at various restaurants to be a server, and was getting resoundingly rejected by all of them. Many of these establishments had advertised that this was "a perfect job for students!" But somehow, as a 38-year old college graduate with 14 years of corporate experience, I was unqualified to sling hash. Ouch.

I did finally get hired by California Pizza Kitchen (I know - YUM), and I am now beginning my fourth month there. (More on CPK in future posts). Overall, all has gone very well at CPK, but it has brought its share of humbling experiences as well. Chief among them has been the fact that, with the exception of one or two co-workers, no one really seems to want to be my friend. I've never had trouble making friends, and my life is blessed by an abundance of them. But I have tried and tried with these folks, mostly to no avail. Recently, a co-worker asked if I could cover her Thursday dinner shift if she covered my Thursday lunch shift. I readily agreed! But I later found out that she needed the Thursday night off to attend a birthday party for one of our co-workers, a party that I was quite clearly not invited to. Ouch again. The simple truth is that I am not used to this type of thing.

LESSONS LEARNED: 1) I am more grateful than ever for the friends in my life, for how unbelievably awesome they are, and for the ease with which we allowed ourselves into each other's lives and 2) I have a newfound compassion for those who have difficulty making friends, for those who have ever felt the sting of rejection or dismissal, something that I have only rarely experienced. For these Lessons In Humility, I am so grateful, for "God gives grace to the humble." (Proverbs 3:34)

When I left Dell, I did so in order to achieve my goal of becoming an artist. My goal in becoming an artist was so that I could create works that would reach people, speak to them, and maybe, possibly, hopefully reach the broken places of their lives. Today, I feel better equipped to do that because of the humbling experiences of the last several months. These experiences did not feel good, not one bit. But God has a way of bringing good out of just about anything, and I am ready to stand as a testimony to that truth.

Grief That Hurts, Grace That Heals

2007-09-14T20:08:00.000-07:00

Three years ago this morning, I was awakened by a phone call at 6:45am. A mere 18 hours later, my Mom - my best friend, my greatest encourager, and one of the loveliest creatures to ever grace this earth - was gone.

My mother had been at Seton Northwest Hospital for 8 days, following an undetermined neurological event that had left her disoriented, confused, and struggling to speak. Since arriving on Monday, September 6th, she had been showing signs of improvement during her first few days. But by the weekend, she was beginning to show slight signs of decline.

The phone call that came on Tuesday, September 14th at 6:45am came from an ICU nurse named Julie. Her voice was calm but urgent. Mom's blood pressure had dropped significantly. "Julie, tell me," I said, "Do I need to come there right now?" "Well," she said, "We've had some rain and the streets are slick, so please be careful, but yes...you need to come here right now".

The next 18 hours would be a blur of harrowing events. Pulmonary embolism, cardiac arrest, Code Blue, CPR, chest compressions, seizures, more drops in blood pressure, kidneys failing, no neurological activity, sobbing siblings, shocked friends, discussions about Mom's end-of-life wishes, doctors using words like "grave" and "hopeless". And worst of all, standing at the bedside of my paralyzed father, and telling him that his adored wife and best friend had passed away.

Sometimes, when this anniversary is far off, I wonder why it is so difficult. My mother's absence hurts every day. Why, I sometimes wonder, does it seem to hurt more on this day? But then when the actual day arrives, I wonder no more. Because there is re-living of the events of the day, almost as if someone has put you in a "Back To The Future" DeLorean and sent you back in time to that very day. Or tied you to a chair and forced you to watch a video of the unfolding of the day's events. (The fact that I have a freakishly sharp memory does not help matters). It all becomes, once again, very vivid. Hauntingly vivid. And it's hard and it's sad.

But what also comes back are the glimpses of grace that colored those days, and the many days and weeks and months that followed. I would be remiss - nay, dishonest - if I were to mention the terrible events of September 14th and 15th, 2004, and not mention the love, support, generosity, selflessness and magnanimity that was so lavishly bestowed upon us during those days and the days that followed. An ICU waiting room FILLED with friends, the provision of food and drinks, the assurance of prayer, the gentle reminders of God's promises and provision, phone calls, emails, cards, flowers. Every face I looked into that day and in the days that came after seemed to be saying to me, "You are not going to walk through one minute of this alone."

And I could hear my God saying the same thing.

"My child, you are not going to walk through one minute of this alone."

And as shattered and grieved as I was, I knew it was true. And it was. And it still is.

Those of you who have known me for a while have heard me speak and/or write about this before. But it's something that I honestly cannot speak or write about enough. Indeed, I will probably never stop speaking or writing about it. Because as much as the dreadful events of those days still hurt and still grieve me, the love and grace that was showered upon me those days still heals and restores me. I still hurt, but I still heal.

And you know what? I could not ask for more. So thank you Jesus, and thank you ALL for "faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms." (I Peter 4:10).

There will be a memoriam in the paper tomorrow for my Mom. For those of you who may not see the local paper here in Austin, here is what it will say:

Kindness, selflessness, humor, compassion, enthusiasm, intelligence, inexhaustibility, poise, warmth, vigor, courage, generosity, devotion, integrity, grace, hospitality, dignity, loyalty, and above all, love. You were the very embodiment of all of these qualities, and we strive every day of our lives to live up to your example. What a legacy you left for us all! You are forever loved and tremendously missed. Love, Daddy, Julie, Barbie, Chandler, Darby, Chris, Shelby, Brookie, Tom, Rachel, Christopher, Krissy, Alan, Marky, Christy, Camden, Erin, and Ivan

I'll leave you with a photo of my dear Mom.

Howling!

2007-09-10T10:27:00.000-07:00

Ya'll!

Dannielynn Birkhead, the daughter of the late Anna Nicole Smith, who is now being raised by her father Larry Birkhead, turned 1 over the weekend. Her father apparently threw her a big princess-themed birthday bash in Kentucky. I read an article about this party yesterday, and as I did, I was touched by the possibility that this little girl - whose life began so dramatically and with such tragedy and uncertainty - may just have a shot at something of a normal life.

But then I got to the picture.

Check out the three-stories-tall balloon cake that they rented for the party! HAAAAA!

Ya'll, this thing is huge! Look at how it dwarfs the giant Hummer limousine! Look at the people standing under it who look like bugs about to be squashed by cakeus gigantus! I am wondering if they needed to get permission from air traffic control to put this thing up! I am also concerned about its slighty tilted and seemingly tenuous state. If this thing went flying into the trees, it could wipe out an entire species!

Hysterical!

A Very Good Reminder

2007-08-28T17:47:00.001-07:00

The other day, my sister and her 4-year old son Christopher went to the mall together, as they often do. Chris always likes to be dressed up as one of his favorite characters, and this day was no exception. Indeed, that Thursday afternoon found my darling nephew bounding through the mall in full Batman regalia! So cute!

Brooke called to tell me that her little Caped Crusader was attracting quite a bit of attention as he played on the mall's playscape, and that she wished so badly that I could be there to see it. And although I couldn't, I could see it all in my mind's eye. My sweet Chris in his mask and his cape, no doubt outwittting The Joker, vanquishing the Penguin, and conquering the Riddler in the wonderful imaginations of his mind. Here's a pic of our little hero:

After a few minutes, Brooke noticed that a woman near her was watching Chris closely, and that she had big tears welling up in her eyes. Soon, she was actually crying. Concerned, Brooke asked her if she was ok. The woman replied, "My Batman joined the Army yesterday."

Gulp.

Choke.

No words.

Immediate tears.

Eventually, Brooke did find words and began a conversation with the woman, who explained that her son - a former 4-year old Batman himself - was now a grown man of 18 who had only the day before enlisted in the United States Army. Brooke thanked the woman, praised her for raising such a brave son, and asked her to thank him for his service. They parted with a hug, and Brooke called me shortly thereafter to relate the entire event to me. She could not tell me the story without crying, and I could not hear it without crying.

Brooke and I come from a deeply patriotic family, one in which the U.S. Military has always been highly praised, valued, and admired. Our father and our brother Alan are military history enthusiasts, so we have heard countless tales of soldiers' heroism, selflessness, and integrity, both on and off the battlefield. Additionally, one of our mother's best friends from high school was a POW in Vietnam for several years, and Mom shared tales of his ordeal throughout our childhood. We have always had an enormous appreciation for the men and women of this nation who have served, sacrificed, and suffered with such valor.

In my mind, I continually acknowledge that every single man and woman who make up our Armed Forces is someone's son or someone's daughter. But there was something deeply profound about the encounter that Brooke shared with me. It was so much more visceral. More raw. More real. After all, we are a nation at war, and a mother whose son just joined the Army is a mother whose son will soon face combat. This truth overwhelmed and humbled us both.

Please do not read anything political into my comments. I am as big a political junkie as anyone, but to politicize what I am saying here would be to bastardize what I am saying here. Not everything is about our politics, but everything is about our humanity.

As such, I fall to my knees and I thank God for the brave hearts of the men and women in our military. I thank God for their sense of duty, their guts, and their courage. It's been said that it is hard to find heroes these days, but when I think of these soldiers, I realize that one does not have to look far at all. I pray not only for them, but for their families - for all of the mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, children, wives, and husbands who watch those they love depart from them, travel to foreign lands, and risk their very lives for the freedom and safety of others.

I am so thankful for the reminder that this woman at the mall provided for my sister and me, and I pray that its impact would stay with me forever.

Cracking UP! Have Ya'll Seen This Show?

2007-08-26T12:33:00.000-07:00

Ok ya'll, I am howling.

My brother Mark and his son - my much-adored nephew Camden - were over at Dad's and my house the other evening. We had gathered in the living room where we were having some dinner and watching TV. I saw my brother fiddling with the remote control, and the next thing I knew, we were watching a show on Nick Jr. called "Wonder Pets".

I'll say here that my knowledge of kids' shows is pretty darn good, despite the fact that I am 38-years old, single, and childless. Due to my close involvement with my nieces and nephews over the course of the last 13 years, I have a pretty thorough knowledge of everything from The Wiggles to Barney, from Dora to Elmo, from Curious George to Scooby-Doo, and just about everything in between.

But "The Wonder Pets" was new to me.

I asked my brother what the show was about. He explained that it was about a group of animals who are pets in an elementary classroom by day, and animal rescuers by night. The premise alone made me chuckle. Classroom pets leading a double life! Ha! Come on! I love it! I began to watch the show, and it wasn't long before I was completely cracking up.

The three characters are are a turtle, a guinea pig, and a duckling, and are named, respectively, Turtle Tuck, Linny Guinea Pig, and Ming-Ming Duckling. They rescue animals who are trapped in trees, chimneys, sea plants, etc. And although they themselves are small animals, they rescue everything from elephants to cows, from dolphins to kangaroos. I read online somewhere that they once saved a chimp who was trapped in outer space! Ha! Dying!

Adding to the hilarity here are several things. First, they receive the calls to come rescue an animal on a tin-can phone that is in the classroom. A tin can with a string attached to it. Second, the characters sing throughout the entire episode in the style of opera. Yes, OPERA. There is a full orchestra in the background throughout the entire show. Third, the duckling pronounces his R's as W's, and frequently proclaims, "This is sewious!"

But what kills me the most here are the outfits these animals wear. The turtle wears blue sneakers (yep), a red cape, and a red and white hat that closely resembles the hat that Mary throws in the air in the opening credits of The Mary Tyler Moore Show. The guinea pig wears a blue cape and a baseball cap. The duckling wears a green cape and, most hilariously, a WWI-era bomber's cap. See picture below.

The bomber's cap slays me!

Anyway, I just find the whole thing to be so nutty and so adorable. On a more serious note, there are wonderful messages in each episode, the most consistent of which is the importance of teamwork.

I wonder how many of you out there who are parents, grandparents, or aunts/uncles to little ones have stumbled upon this show? Am I overstating it when I say that this show is altogether riotous and wonderful? Let me hear from you!

Ok Ya'll, This Is Just Wrong

2007-08-17T00:34:00.000-07:00

Check out this picture:

I took this picture in a Christmas store while shopping in Estes Park. These are Star Wars characters dressed up in Christmas garb. People, this is one of my pet peeves. I don't like classic characters dressed up in Christmas garb. If you click on this picture, you can see that C-3PO is not happy about any of this. Look at his face. (And please don't ask me which one is C-3PO, or I'll have to act like the Star Wars snob that I am and say something like, "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't ask me that").

By the same token, I don't like Santa dressed in non-Christmas garb. I don't like seeing Santa dressed as a fisherman:

I don't like seeing Santa dressed as a beach bum:

And I don't like seeing Santa dressed as an easy rider:

Please keep the red suit on Santa and off of the cast of Star Wars.

Thank you and good-night.

GMA Festival - Going Home

2007-08-16T23:39:00.000-07:00

"All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go..."

It was time to go home.

I was sad to be leaving a place that had given me SO much in just six days, but I was eager to get home, see my friends and family, and report on the week's adventures. As I walked outside, this is the view that I was greeted with:

Extraordinary, huh?

I made my way down to the administration building, where I planned to spend the morning taking in this view, having a little caffeine, and awaiting the shuttle that would take me to the Denver airport. In a delightful turn of events, just about everyone that I had become friends with in the course of the week was hanging out at the admin building as well, so we all had a good chance to spend our last hours together, take some pics together, and say our good-byes.

All went well on the shuttle ride back to the airport, and I made yet another new friend during the trip. We chatted the whole way, and it made the time go by quickly. So many nice people.

While in the air, this is the beauty that I beheld outside my window:

Awesome.

And while descending into Austin, this is the sight that welcomed me home:

I wasn't sure how much more beauty my heart could take. Every now and then, I have those moments in my life where my heart is so full of thanksgiving, that I feel I will never be able to fully express it. This was one of those moments. At these times, I generally conclude that the best way to express my gratitude is to live my life as God would want me to - to boldly live out my faith, to passionately love people, and to relentlessly try to do better.

My mind turned to one of my favorite songs by the late singer Keith Green:

Make my life a prayer to you,

I want to do what You want me to,

No empty words and no white lies,

No token prayers, no compromise.

Lord, may it be so!

GMA Festival - Friday, Day Six

2007-08-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

Well, this was my last full day at the festival, and I promised myself that, in addition to attending classes, I would accomplish two exceedingly important tasks: 1) get out and enjoy the remarkable scenery and 2) SHOP. While coming into Estes, I had noticed an abundance of ADORABLE shops in the downtown area, and vowed that I would try to find some time during the week to get over there and engage in some retail therapy. And that I did! But more on that in a moment. First, I had some schoolin' to do!

My first class of the morning was called "Writing From The Artist Perspective", and was led by a phenomenal singer-songwriter named Mark Harris. Christian music fans will recognize him as the lead singer of the band 4Him, and will recognize tunes he's written or co-written such as "Basics of Life", "For Future Generations", and "Strange Way To Save The World". He shared wonderful insights about the work of songwriting, and most significantly, the importance of collaboration. This was a good message for me - and one that was really emphasized by several artists throughout the week - because I have typically not done much collaborating in my songwriting.

But the FUNNIEST part of the whole session was when he was asked who some of his earliest influences were and what concerts he had seen growing up. He mentioned a number of names, and then said, "I'm a little embarassed to admit this, but I did see Olivia Newton-John in concert once."

WHAT? Embarassed to have seen ONJ in concert? I felt my blood boil a little. Then someone asked, "Were you the one person who actually saw the movie Xanadu?" And Mark said, "Well, no...by then I had come to realize that her music was cheesy." WHOA! Fightin' words! Then he said, "Wait, scratch that. That's not nice. I should say, I just wasn't into her music anymore."

But it was too late. The damage to the good name of ONJ had been done, and it was my job - nay, my moral obligation - to set the record straight. I approached Mark after the class, introduced myself, and offered him my sincere thanks for sharing his time and wisdom. But then I said, "However, Mark, I do have a bone to pick with you." He looked surprised at first, but I think he could tell by the smirk on my face that I was just going to rib him a little bit. About what, I'm sure he did not know.

He said, "Uh-oh, what did I do?" And I said, "Well, Mark, as a lifelong member of the Olivia Newton-John Fan Club..." and straight away, he started to laugh and said, "Oh boy I knew I'd get in trouble for that comment!" I then went on to explain to him that ONJ still has a very loyal fan base, has recorded several records as an independent artist, writes her own songs now, and does about 50 live shows a year. Poor guy! He listened patiently to my ramblings, but must have been thinking "why do I get all the geeks?" Ha, ha! Actually, he was real sweet about the whole thing, and we ended up having this good conversation about how artists grow with time and age and circumstance. Too funny...what were the chances of anyone saying anything about ONJ at this festival?

My next class was entitled "The Story Behind The Songs". It was led by a very successful Christian artist named Joy Williams and a songwriter named Ben Glover. I knew only little about Joy and nothing about Ben, but this class ended up being quite possibly one of the most meaningful that I attended all week.

I was not familiar with much of Joy's music, and quite frankly, she had been marketed in a way that, I felt, targeted pre-teen and teen audiences. On her album covers, she looked young and blonde and perky, and I felt like she was probably making simple pop music aimed at the tweenie crowd. Well, I could not have been more wrong. In the course of this class, I came to learn that Joy was a very gifted and prolific singer and songwriter. Additionally, she was an artist of incredible depth and wisdom. She had a wonderful earthy, artsy vibe to her, coupled with a clear devotion to her faith and her craft. Ben Glover, one of her co-writers (and a TOTAL punkin', by the way), was much the same way, and they freely shared stories from the songwriting trenches. Together and separately, they write dozens of songs a year, and they took us through the whole process of what is involved in trying to get those songs picked up. Truly inavluable stuff.

Following the session, I had a chance to meet Joy, and we had a nice little chat. Here we are below. Isn't her scarf the bomb?

By the way, about two hours later, as I was walking across the grounds, I saw Joy again, from a distance. I hollared out, "Hi Joy!" and she replied, "Hi Kristin!" And I was like, "I cannot believe you remembered my name." But that's the thing about many of these Christian artists, and I experienced it with every single one of them that I met during GMA. They are the real deal, and they really live out their faith in kindness and graciousness. The records don't lie. They are as good as they seem.

I attended one more Tom Jackson class and then we had a two-hour break for FREE TIME! Time to see God's country and hit the shops! I had been told that it was a mile walk to a lodge where I could pick up a shuttle that would take me into the shopping district. I'd get to walk through the mountains for a mile and then be driven to the shops. Brilliant! So off I went, onto Hwy 66, surrounded by the wondrous mountains, the Big Thompson River, and one of the bluest, sunniest skies that had ever smiled on me. (I am embarassed to tell you that I thought I was on the infamous Route 66, but later found out that the historic road does not even run through Colorado. Shame on me). Nonetheless, it was a GLORIOUS walk.

The shuttle delivered me smack dab into the middle of the shopping district and I hit as many shops as I could in the 90 minutes I had before having to pick up the shuttle back to the Y. There were lots of t-shirt and souvenir-type shops, but also lots of fun, unique gift shops, with names like "Blue Skies & Dragonflies". CUTE! That's what I love. I didn't really even buy much - just a couple of knick-knacks - but it was so stinkin' fun. Below are pictures of the mountains and rivers that surrounded me as I shopped. You simply can't beat this!

When I returned to the Y, it was time for the evening concert, in which we would get to see ALL of the finalists perform in the Vocal and Instrumental Competitions! I couldn't wait! There were about 20 acts, and I'm tellin' ya, I literally got to see some of the finest talent in all the land. Man, it just made me want to get better. The big winner of the night was a gal named Rachael Hurt, who completely JAMMED on a song she had written. Dude, she brought the house down and won several major awards. I met and congratulated her, and told her, "Girl, you better get used to all of this adulation and success, cuz you are goin' far!"

As I walked back to my room to turn in for the night, I stumbled upon a friend named Karen that I had met in the course of the week. Knowing I would probably not see her until next year's festival, we hugged good-bye, and she gave her standard adieu - as she had many times throughout the week - which was, "Enjoy God's blessings."

"Oh man," I thought, "You can count on it."

GMA Festival - Thursday, Day Five

2007-08-13T13:29:00.001-07:00

Thursday was another great learning day, one that started off with a class called "Protecting Yourself - A Look At Song Publishing Agreements". It was led by an entertainment attorney and it was incredibly informative. I think it is common for artists to want to leave the money and the business stuff to others, and I am certainly one who would be tempted to do that (cuz, I mean, borrrrrring), but for me, it is hugely important to know and understand that side of things. As dry as I thought this class might be, it was actually very interesting, and I found myself listening intently and taking notes rigorously.

I then went to an Open Forum with several record company representatives entitled, "Discovering What Record Labels Are Looking For In Today's Changing Marketplace". It was a pretty informal, Q&A-type session, and one in which I, once again, learned a great deal. Many artists are able to market themselves and sell their music independently these days, and this session helped to answer the question, "Why would a burgeoning artist want to be signed to a record contract?" Very helpful stuff.

This may sound bad, but one of my favorite moments of this session was when one of the record execs admitted that he had "passed" on signing the group Casting Crowns, who I adore, and who have since gone on to become one of the biggest-selling acts in the history of Christian music. I guess I enjoyed that because it was a good reminder to me that even the experts aren't always right. There's a LOT of rejection in this business, and in the face of it, you have to keep plugging away.

In the afternoon, I went to another one of Tom Jackson's performance coaching classes and continued to emerge from my state of denial about the fact that I am not a great performer (ha, ha). And by the way, this realization is not discouraging to me at all. On the contrary, I love knowing that I have identified such a specific area to work on. I have a huge desire to get great at my craft, so this revelation was critical.

That evening, I got an unexpected treat! Early in the week, I had met a guy named Tom Morris, and throughout the week, I continued to run into him in a number of classes. Tom has been a firefighter for 24 years, all the while playing in bands and writing songs. His wife was along with him, and they invited me to dinner in Estes Park Thursday night. Aside from the welcome break from the cafeteria, I was so excited to get to go "in town" to eat.

We went to a Mexican restaurant (sweet!) right along the river in downtown Estes, and we had a great time. We shared our life stories, and talked about our faith, our families, our music, etc. They were SO sweet, and they had the most GLORIOUS Northeastern accents (they were from Rhode Island). I had to share with them that I love quoting lines from the film Good Will Hunting in my best Boston accent, and I gave them my favorite example: "Let's go to a bah in Hahvad and beat up some smaht kids." Ha, ha. They also enjoyed my Southern accent, and as much as I may deny actually having one, I know deep down that I sure-as-shootin' do.

It was a delightful ending to another good day, and my heart was filled with gratitude. Rather than attend the evening concert (which was going to be kind of heavy rock - not my fave), I stayed in my room, let my creative juices flow, and did some writing. For the first time that week, I went to bed sort of early.

I blame the Mexican food. ;-)

GMA Festival - Wednesday, Day Four, Part Two

2007-08-13T11:05:00.000-07:00

Did I mention that Wednesday was my favorite day of this entire festival? Well, it was! Yay Wednesday! Here is Part Two:

That afternoon, I attended another of the Artist Teaching Concerts, this one led by the current GMA Dove Awards Female Vocalist of the Year, Natalie Grant. Those of you familiar with Christian music know her well. Those of you who received my Christmas Letter two years ago may remember that the theme of that letter was based on Natalie's song "Held": "This is what is means to be Held, how it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive. This is what it is to be loved, and to know that the promise was when everything fell, we'd be Held." "Held" was a song that had blessed me tremendously following the death of my mother, so I was really excited about the opportunity to get to hear from Natalie about her career and her entire body of work.

I would not be disappointed.

Natalie spoke candidly about the business side of music - about her longtime struggle to get a record deal, and the exceeding importance of patience and perserverance - which were important messages for me to hear. She spoke passionately about her work as well. Specifically, she shared with us how she has evolved in her craft, from being a singer under the control of her record company to now being a full-blown artist - a singer AND songwriter who calls the shots in her career, and who insists on nothing less that 100% integrity and authenticity in her music. She was simply awesome, and she sets an example in her life and her career that I most certainly aspire to. Especially that authenticity stuff. Let me be real, Lord.

The coolest and most personal part for me, however, was when she opened the session up for questions, and I asked her about the song "Held". I shared with her how much comfort the song had brought me, and asked if she would speak for a moment about the impact of that song, the stories she had heard from people, etc. She replied that she could literally spend all day telling of the song's far-reaching impact, and she did share some pretty gut-wrenching stories that she had heard from people while she was on the road. But the key takeway was this: There are people all over this world who are hurting deeply, and they desperately need music that speaks and ministers to them. This was an invaluable reminder to me. I felt more inspired than ever to write music that truly impacts and changes lives.

Natalie then sang "Held", accompanied only by her husband on the piano, and it was absolutely exquisite. I have many friends who are hurting tremendously right now due to various losses, and I cried through the whole song thinking of all of them. I have personally lived the lyrics of the song "Held", and I prayed that the same would be true for my many wounded friends - that they would truly feel loved and held through their darkest hours. Here's a pic of Natalie singing:

That night's concert included Natalie again, Brian Littrell (former Backstreet Boy who is now a Christian artist), Rush of Fools (a great band of rockers who look like they are 12 and who made me feel really old), and Travis Cottrell, who is Beth Moore's awesome praise and worship leader. After the concert, we got to have a meet and greet with Natalie. She remembered me as I approached the table, saying, "You were the one who asked me about 'Held' today." I was impressed by this, as I was probably the hundredth person she had met that day. I thanked her again, but unfortunately, they were not allowing pictures. So, I sort of just stuck my head in front of her and had someone take the below picture. Now, I know that judging by my shape and form in this photo, it looks as if I just ate Natalie for dinner, but she is actually the blonde with the gold hoop earrings on. (Not a good angle, Werner).

Also following the concert, they announced who had advanced to the semi-finals in the Vocalist contest. I did not advance. But really folks, it was ok. I hate to sound unambitious, but I was not there to compete. I have a lot of growth to do as a songwriter, musician, and performer, and I will compete when ready. There's always next year baby!

Oh! I did get my critique sheets back from the music industry folks who had judged my performance in the Vocalist contest, and was mostly quite pleased with them. One judge said that my voice and style reminded him of Joni Mitchell. Nuh-uh! STOP! I'm not worthy! In general, there were high marks for my voice, and so-so marks for my performance skills. Completely fair. I've got work to do.

Overall, it was SUCH a great day, and I went to bed that night with a tremendous amount of joy and gratitude in my heart.

GMA Festival - Wednesday, Day Four, Part One

2007-08-08T10:48:00.000-07:00

This ended up being my favorite day of the whole week! Yay Wednesday!

It was also the most eventful day of the week, so for ease of reading, I am divding the day into two separate posts. Perhaps I should be merciful to you all and do the same thing with my Christmas Letter. Ya know, send it in like, twelve separate parts? Oh wait, that'll never work. I'm a starving artist and could never afford the postage... ;-)

Ok, I intended on starting the day with a class called "Writing A Song Based On A Scripture or Storyline". Now, try not to be shocked, but I was a little late to the class. I know that is astounding, but, well...sometimes I am late. Anyway, the class had ended up getting cancelled for reasons I am still not sure of. So I decided instead to go to the Women's Retreat, which was being led by Sandi Patty, arguably the greatest vocalist in the history of Christian music. With her four-octave voice, she had completely blown the roof off at her concert the night before, and I was thrilled at the prospect of getting to spend some time with her at this retreat.

She spoke for about 45 minutes, then did a Q&A with us for about an hour. "Let's just sit around and have some girl-talk for a while," she said. Ok by me! Nothing I love more. After the Q&A, she sat at a piano in the corner of our small room and sang an exquisite version of "Amazing Grace".

At this point, I simply couldn't quite believe it was all happening. Here I was with Sandi Patty, one of the greatest voices in the known world - someone who has performed for kings and presidents, and someone whose music had ministered so powerfully to me, especially during my critical teenage years. And here I was having "girl-talk" with her and sitting ten feet from her as she raised her voice in song (see Picture just below). It was an absolute thrill.

At the end of the two-hour retreat, we had the opportunity to meet and visit with Sandi (we're on a first-name basis now). Even though I am really a very giant dork, I manage to keep things really appropriate when I meet artists whose works have impacted my life. I try to make it a point to 1) express my tremendous thanks to them for sharing their extraordinary gifts and 2) encourage them to continue their good works. And rather than pour out my life story to them, I simply encapsulate that by saying, "Your music has ministered so much to me." I had the opportunity to share all of the above with Sandi, and she was incredibly gracious. (See us togeth in Picture just below). Me and Sandi! Sandi and Me! This was a highlight of my year for sure!

That afternoon, I attended a class called "Getting Gigs", which was led by a VP of the William Morris Agency. It was a supremely valuable class, and one in which I learned a ton. One of the coolest things I kept seeing throughout the week was a great generosity of spirit between all of the musicians, and the Getting Gigs class was no exception. Many artists who are already doing regular gigs were freely sharing advice and ideas, and I found that to be so useful. These are the folks who are in the trenches and really doing it!

I would like to add that I love the word "gig" and that I can't wait to someday say things like, "Oh, I would love to go to dinner with you, but I have a gig tonight." LOL!

GMA Festival - Tuesday, Day Three

2007-08-05T11:20:00.000-07:00

Tuesday morning, I woke up with a bit of anxiety, as I had two rather daunting tasks ahead of me.

First, I was taking one of my original songs to a what is called a Song Critique. A Song Critique gives you the opportunity to meet with a representative from a major Christian music publishing company, play him your song on CD, and then listen to feedback from him as to the quality/marketability of the song. Eek! Skeert!

Second, I was particpating in the Vocal Competition, singing yet another original song, this time in front of a panel of judges from the Christian music industry and about 15 peers and fellow competitors. Double Eek! Triple skeert! I want my mommy!

Fortunately, both went well. My song was critiqued by the Vice-President of Publishing for Word Records (GULP!) and he had very nice things to say. His few criticisms were very fair and accurate, I felt. He also asked if he could keep the CD and the lyric sheet. Cool! He was cute, too! I know, not relevant, but I sorta wanted to kiss him. Anyway....

I had not planned on competing in the Vocal Competition. Not because I didn't feel worthy of competing, but because I felt it would be a distraction to me. My purpose in going to this convention was to LEARN and to soak in as much knowledge as possible, not to shoot for a grand prize. But I ultimately decided to do it because I thought the feedback from the judges would be constructive and valuable.

For the Vocal Competition, I sang a song called "We'll Sing On" that I had written about 9/11 in the week immediately following the 2001 tragedy. There were three judges and I tried to engage all of them during my performance, but they had their heads in their critique sheets and were writing furiously. Talk about nerve-wracking! What are they writing? "Nice voice, but seems like kind of a geek." Ha, ha. The performance went well, though, and I could not wait to get my feedback sheets from them. I would receive those, as well as the results of whether or not I advanced to the semi-finals, on Wednesday night. More on that later.

I spent the afternoon in more classes, the first of which was a class led by a guy named Tom Jackson, who is a Performance Coach who helps artists make the most of their live performances. He focuses on three key components: 1) Are you capturing and engaging your audience?, 2) Are you creating "moments" for your audience or just making music?, 3) Are you affecting and changing lives? Ya'll, this was FABULOUS knowledge and helped pull me out of denial about the fact that I am not a great live performer. Yeah, I can hit the notes and engage my audience to an extent, but I have A LOT more work to do in this area. Many of my colleagues acknowledged the same thing about themselves during the week. As the week went on, I ended up attending three more of Tom's classes. The guy's a genius.

I also attended a class that addressed the power of exposing your music to the world through the power of the Internet. Amazing. The web has changed music so much, ya'll. Much of the work that record companies had to do for you can now be done on your own via personal websites, blogs, MySpace, and online stores that sell work done by independent artists. Again, an incredibly valuable class and one that I plan to put to good use!

The day was capped off with an Artist Teaching Concert led by none other than the brilliant singer/songwriter Mark Schultz, who has been one of my favorite Christian artists for about 4 years now. The Artist Teaching Concerts are essentially very casual mini-concerts where the artist sits there and chats with the audience (see 2nd photo above), tells the stories behind his songs, offers advice about the biz, and sings a few of his biggest hits. I got to meet Mark afterwards (see 1st photo above), which was a big thrill. He was so sweet and he is a total punkin'! I thought for a long time I would marry him, but he got snagged up by a gorgeous doctor about a year ago. Now how in the heck am I supposed to compete with that? ;-)

That night's concert featured the great Sandi Patty, Mark Shultz again, David Phelps, the Crabb Family, and Tammy Trent.

(Funny Side-Note: After the concert, I walked back to the room with a gal I had met in the course of the week. The walk back to our cabin was mostly uphill, and since I was still adjusting to the Colorado altitude, my breath was starting to get a little ragged. I said something like, "Gosh, I guess I am still adjusting to the altitude change." And she said, "Really? I think I've gotten used to it by now." And since I was carrying my laptop on my back, I said, "Well, I guess carrying this laptop on my back doesn't help matters." Then, quickly realizing the ridiculousness of that statement, I said, "I guess it also doesn't help matters that I am 70 pounds overweight." HA! Ya'll, she was horrified. My close friends are used to me making little jabs at myself like this, but she was downright SHOCKED that I would say such a thing about myself. I honestly thought that she was gonna start genuflecting right then and there and pray over me for saying such a thing. I made a note to myself that not everyone appreciates a healthy dose of self-deprecation).

GMA Festival - Monday, Day Two

2007-08-02T20:21:00.000-07:00

The day got off to an early start, as all days have this week (breakfast is from 7:00 to 8:30 and morning worship starts at 8:30). I am a night owl and early mornings do not thrill me (I rather loathe them), but on this Monday I practically bounced out of bed with great expectations for the day ahead. And the day did NOT disappoint!

Funny Side-Note: As I headed to the cafeteria for breakfast, I started getting a case of the junior high heebee jeebees! Who was I going to sit with in the cafeteria? I had only met a few people so far, and what if they weren't there? I'd have to sit with strangers who might immediately see me for the geek that I am! After a few minutes of this ridiculous internal dialogue, I reminded myself that I was, in fact, NOT in the 7th grade and that I was indeed a grown woman of 37. I got a grip, sat down at a random table with a random group of people, and soaked up their endlessly interesting life-stories. It would be the first of many meals spent doing this. I will talk about this more later. (The junior high heebee jeebies would still creep in occasionally throughout the week, but only in brief spurts, which I would quickly quell. Get behind me Satan)!

Following some great words of encouragement at morning worship, I went to my first class of the day entitled, "Writing Melodies That Sing". It was led by a very prolific and successful Christian composer named Don Koch. That class was followed by one entitled "Building a Great Lyric," led by an equally successful Christian lyricist named Dave Clark. (Shout-Out to my Baby Boomer friends: NOT the Dave Clark of the Dave Clark Five). These men have been writing songs that have spoken to my heart for years, and I hung on their every word in class. It was just so thrilling to be learning about things about which I am so hugely passionate.

I continued to meet more really lovely people throughout the day and as the day went on, I just really began to realize what an amazing week this was going to be, and what a unique opportunity it was for me to be here. Before I went to bed that night, I made a promise to myself and to God that I would be the very best version of myself this week - that I would make it to every class, ask every question I could think of, take notes furiously, and not squander any opportunity to learn, grow, and connect. It felt good.

For my Christian music fans out there, Monday night's concert included Rebecca St. James, Shaun Groves, and Aaron Shust. Sweet, huh?

GMA Festival - Sunday, Day One

2007-08-02T15:16:00.000-07:00

I arrived safely in Denver on Sunday and hung out in the airport for about 2 hours waiting for the shuttle to take me from Denver to Estes Park. It wasn't long before I started seeing musicians popping up all around me - people with funky hair and cool clothes, carrying guitars and keyboards and violins and all manner of musical accoutrement. I started to feel excited but nervous, very similar to the way I felt my first few days Texas A&M. Of course, what I didn't realize as a college freshman (20 years ago - OUCH!), but do realize today, is that EVERYONE was feeling nervous. Even the ones who seemed cool and collected. So I tried to just chill and be myself and embrace whatever lay ahead.

Once I boarded the shuttle (which was actually a SWEET chartered bus), my nerves were quickly soothed, as I began meeting all kinds of nice people from all over the country. Everyone was so sweet and interested and interesting, and we all spent the entire 2-hour trip chatting away. I love hearing people's stories, and the stories I heard on the bus that day were the first of MANY that the week would have in store for me. More on that later...

The scenery during the bus trip was gorgeous, but only a sneak preview of what was to come. When we did finally arrive in Estes Park, what I saw literally took my breath away. The facility I am staying at is called YMCA In The Rockies, and it is literally planted squarely in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. Any direction you look in, you are surrounded by the most exquisite and majestic beauty that one could ever imagine. I've always said I am a beach girl first and foremost - and I am - but I tell ya, these mountains do a soul some good! They are absolutely heavenly, as you can see in the above picture.

(Funny Side-Note: The YMCA In The Rockies isn't really a hotel, and it isn't really a resort, and I have been struggling to describe this place to folks back home. I was talking to my friend and 80's soulmate Brenda last night, and she said, "I'm kind of imagining it as being like Kellerman's from 'Dirty Dancing'." HA! She nailed it! That is EXACTLY what it's like...minus the hottie dance instructor and the 60's youth rebellion).

Anyway, I got all registered, checked into my room, had some din-din, and then headed to the first concert of the week, which was Michael W. Smith, the King of Contemporary Christian Music! I hadn't seen W in concert in about 10 years, and he was phenomenal. By 11:00pm, I was running on fumes and decided to call it a day. I lay my head down on the pillow, feeling very much like a big girl, feeling that I was exactly where I belonged, and filled with anticipation of what the week had in store!

Airport Security - Come Here Often?

2007-08-02T07:31:00.000-07:00

Allow me to digress from my GMA Festival updates for a moment to share some thoughts on airport security. First, let me make it clear that I have no issue with the airport security requirements, which, as we all know, changed drastically following 9/11. Making minor adjustments such as taking my laptop out of its case and carrying my liquids in small quantities is a small price to pay for national security and safety in the skies. I long ago accepted the changes in security as the new normal, and I never complain about them.

I travel by air so much that I know exactly what items are going to set off the security alarm - my maroon jacket with metal buttons, the James Avery bracelet that my friend Shannon gave me, etc. So I begin removing those items right away, in addition to the required surrender of my shoes. This generally makes my experience through security go rather quickly, and this latest trip was no exception. But...something frequently happens post-security that always cracks me up. It happened again this past Sunday.

Once you are past the brigade, you have to put all of the removed items back on your body. I always seem to end up next to a man at this point. And there we stand at the table, him putting his belt and cufflinks and watch back on, and me putting my jacket and jewelry and shoes back on. And ya'll, it just makes me laugh! I am unmarried and do not practice sex outside of marriage, but here I stand in the middle of the airport in various states of undress along with the dude right next to me! I always chuckle to myself, thinking how funny it would be to say something to him like, "Was it good for you too?" or "You could have at least bought me dinner first."

That would of course be inappropriate, but I've got to find some way to diffuse the situation. Because one of these days, I'm just gonna bust out laughing, and send some guy's cufflinks flying across the airport floor.

GMA Festival - The Night Before

2007-08-01T23:06:00.000-07:00

I left Austin for Denver on Sunday morning at 8:10am, which meant I had to wake up at about 5:00am so that I could be at the airport at about 6:45am. While I am never, EVER happy about waking up at 5:00am, this time it was all the more daunting because I was up until 2:30am the night before. You see, my dear friend Tracy was celebrating her 40th birthday downtown on Saturday night. Now, a reasonable person, knowing they had to be up at 5:00am, may have considered skipping the party, but, well...I don't skip parties. Especially parties that afford me the opportunity to celebrate the life of a treasured friend, hang out with some of my favorite people on the planet, and listen to The Spazmatics, the greatest 80's cover band in existence. I had a total, joyful BLAST, and am so glad I went! Above is a photo from Saturday night, a mere 5 hours before my morning alarm went off (from left to right, that's Tracy the birthday girl, me, Amy, and George).

Needless to say, I slept through my entire flight the next morning. I remember taxiing away from the gate, and the next thing I knew, I was awakened by the words, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are now beginning our descent into Denver." There was an unopened bag of peanuts sitting on my tray table, which, of course, I had to immediately put in the locked and upright position.

The Gospel Music Association Festival!

2007-08-01T22:45:00.000-07:00

Hey Dear Friends and Family! I am currently at the Gospel Music Association Festival in Estes Park, Colorado. This is a week-long convention for Christian singers and musicians, and it provides incredible opportunities to learn the biz, meet with industry professionals, network with other musicians, and make friends from all over the country. At this writing, I have been here for four days, and I have to tell you, I am having the MOST wonderful time! The whole thing has exceeded my expectations and has been worth every penny I had to spend to get here (read: it cost me lots and lots of pennies). ;-)

I have not had much time at the computer, as they keep us busy from about 8:00am until 11:00pm. BUT...I have been keeping a daily journal of the week's highlights and have decided to post them here for your reading pleasure. All of the cabins have wi-fi, so this will be easy for me to do, as long I have can find enough time in the day to do it! I will give a day-by-day account, so that you can just read a little at a time, and not have to peruse through a Christmas Letter-esque essay.

Thanks for indulging me. Chat with ya soon!
Kristin

Romance On Aisle Four?

2007-07-10T14:33:00.000-07:00

Ok ya'll. This is just a random thing that happened to me on Sunday, and it cracked me up.

I was at HEB (what I affectionately refer to as The Heeb) doing a MAJOR grocery run. Dad and I had run out of everything at the house all at the same time (How does that always happen? Do the assorted meats, fruits, and vegetables conspire in the fridge? And do they get the toilet paper and the laundry detergent and the Pine-Sol involved as well?). Anyway, I knew I'd be at the store for quite a while, so I had carved out a good hour or so to ensure that every single item got crossed off of my considerably long list.

I was about one-fourth of the way through, and the next item on my list was peanut butter. As I entered the aisle, I noticed a couple standing arm in arm right in front of the peanut butter. They were actually sort of cuddling - one might even say snuggling - in front of the peanut butter, and were talking to one another quietly. They were blocking the whole peanut butter section, but since I assumed they'd be there just a few more seconds, I decided to wait. I stood there as quietly and unobtrusively as possible, not wanting to rush them. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but they were speaking loudly enough that I realized that they were having an in-depth discussion about what kind of peanut butter they should buy.

A little odd, but I thought, "Well, maybe they need a particular type of peanut butter for a dessert they're going to bake." So I continued to wait. This went on for another 60 seconds or so, and at this point I was starting to get a little baffled. I stood there thinking, "Ok, you've got smooth, crunchy, extra crunchy, organic, or non-organic. Let's wrap this up people." But they continued to mull over this decision with intense deliberation. "Maybe they're with the UN," I thought. But actually, nations have gone to war with less contemplation than this.

Now, you may be wondering why I didn't just move on and come back to the peanut butter later. Well, because, I was quite frankly intrigued at this point. How could such a decision possibly be taking this long? You also may be wondering why I didn't just edge my way in, grab me a jar of Jif, and be on my way. Well, you just gotta believe me when I say that there was simply no getting around them. Their souls had truly become one, right there in the peanut butter aisle. I could have crawled on my belly between their feet, or parachuted down from the ceiling, and I still would not have gotten access to the PB.

So I decided to use this time wisely and go over my list to see what I had left to buy, where I needed to head next, etc. Then all of the sudden, I heard the unmistakable sound...of kissing.

Nuh-uh. No. No they're not.

But sure enough, I raised my head from my list, and there they were, still planted squarely in front of the peanut butter, and making out like a couple of college freshman. "Mugging down", as we called it in my day. Ok, this is Saturday Night Live. Or maybe I'm on Candid Camera. No...that show was cancelled 20 years ago. Maybe I am getting Punk'd by Ashton Kutcher. No...he doesn't know me. This is for real.

I wasn't sure whether to feel irritated or jealous, but I did know that I was closerthanthis to telling them to go get a room. Finally, they broke their passionate embrace and walked away, completely oblivious to my presence.

I grabbed my Jif, and shook my head as if to say, "What just happened here?" I started to think that the only thing that would have perfected this moment would have been if "Lost In Love" by Air Supply had started playing overhead on the HEB elevator music radio. Or maybe "Open Arms" by Journey.

It certainly would have set the mood for romance on Aisle Four that day.

An Evening of Grief, Then Comic Relief

2007-07-08T21:02:00.001-07:00

As mentioned in my previous post, I just returned from vacation with my family. The main purpose of this trip was to fulfill our late mother's wish to have a portion of her ashes spread over South Padre Island. This was the only wish that Mom was ever specific about, so it has been exceedingly important to us to make sure that it was fulfilled.

On Friday, June 29th, right at dusk, we walked down to the beach to return our mother to a place that she loved so very, very much - a place that, for years, brought much peace, relaxation, and joy to her very hectic life. I'll say here that I and my entire family believe in eternal life, and believe that our mother now resides in Heaven. We know that only her physical remains are in those ashes. However, as we have discovered many times since her death, these types of rituals and ceremonies done in our mother's memory bring us much peace, and we feel certain that they are gestures that would make Mom really happy.

The night was mercifully cool and breezy. All 14 of us walked together along the beach to the Sunchase Condominiums, the resort at which we had always stayed as a family in the 80's and 90's. Every corner of that property holds a precious memory for all of us, so to have our ceremony on Sunchase's beach felt totally perfect. When we arrived, the sun had just set and the moon had risen above the ocean, its light illuminating the dark water. It was absolutely gorgeous.

We had decided to spread her ashes right on the shoreline. Mom liked to occasionally go out into the waves, but more than anything, she loved to just sit in the sunshine along the shoreline, letting the water gently lap up against her. From this vantage, she was able to keep watch over all of us as we ran around, built sand castles, and rode the waves. These times were pure bliss for her.

We first joined hands in a circle, and I led the family in prayer, thanking God for the gift of this extraordinary woman. I further prayed that God would give us the strength to continue to live out Mom's legacy of love, kindness, and selflessness. Following the prayer, my siblings and I took turns, each of us pouring a portion of the ashes into the wind, which gently carried them into the ocean. It was sad, but it was perfect. And best of all, it was exactly what Mom wanted. Following the ceremony, we stood around for a while, many of us crying or simply standing in silence.

And then it happened.

We had noticed when we first came down to the beach that there were some mosquitos, but they were really nothing more than a minor nuisance at that point. But by the time we had finished our ceremony, the mosquitos began to attack us in full force. And ya'll, they were huge. I mean HUGE. They looked like tarantulas. And they were downright Hitchcockian in quantity. You would look down, and there would be ten of them on your arm and twelve of them on your leg. We had to make a run for it.

The mothers with little ones took off first, followed quickly by the rest of us. We were basically having to haul tail back to the hotel, sprinting in all different directions to escape the onslaught of these blood-sucking insects. My uber-athlete sister Julie even began running serpentine and screaming at the top of her lungs, "BOB AND WEAVE! BOB AND WEAVE!"

We couldn't help but crack up. I was absolutely HOWLING. What had happened to our peaceful evening? Mere moments ago we were having this beautiful and reverent ceremony in memory of one of the lovliest creatures who ever walked this earth! Now, suddenly, we were scattered about the beach like maniacs, trying to escape the most vile creatures we'd ever seen.

By the time we reached the hotel, we were exhausted and bewildered. On the one hand, we were a little frustrated that our time on the beach had been cut short. But then we thought, well, Mom would not have wanted us to stand out there crying all night. Indeed, the last thing she would have wanted was for things to get too maudlin. "Honestly, quit fussing over me," she would have said, "You've fulfilled my wishes, now go have fun together!"

And that we did. We returned to our hotel room, hung out together, laughed together, counted our mosquito bites, and of course, passed around the Campho-Phenique.

Never a dull moment.

Love,
Kristin

"I'm So Excited I Can't Sleep"

2007-07-08T18:57:00.000-07:00

I just returned from a weeklong vacation to South Padre Island with my entire family - my siblings, their three spouses and one fiance, and my three nieces and two nephews. In the days leading up to this trip, my sister Brooke and my brother Mark both shared with me - independent of one another - that their kids were so excited about the upcoming trip that they were actually having trouble sleeping.

Brooke's children Rachel (8) and Christopher (4) were fighting their bedtime every night, and in general were, in my sister's words, "pinging off the walls" because they were so excited to be going to the beach to see their cousins. The night before the trip, my brother Mark's son Camden (2) lay awake in his crib for a full hour after being put to bed, talking to himself about how excited he was about going to "the ocean."

The morning after our first night in Padre, I awoke early to find Rachel already wide awake in her bed. Knowing she had been up late the night before, I said, "Sweetie, you need to try to sleep a little longer." She looked right at me and said, "I'm so excited I can't sleep."

This all got me to thinking: When was the last time that I was so excited about something that I literally couldn't sleep? Or, more specifically, when was the last time that I allowed myself to feel such excitement?

Of course I understand that, as adults, we cannot think and feel the same way that we did as children. After all, our adult lives are fraught with all manner of pressures and responsibilities. Newsreels and headlines inform us 24 hours a day of the violence, poverty, war, famine and injustice that plagues our world. We no longer have the luxury of seeing the world through the lens of a 2-, 4-, or 8-year old. For every one reason there is to feel excited and hopeful, there seem to be one hundred reasons to feel discouraged.

And yet, I don't really believe that those odds tell the true story. I think that when I don't allow myself to feel true excitement, it is less about the stresses, difficulties, and realities of adult life, and more about my unwillingness to really acknowledge and really pay attention to the daily goodness that colors my life.

So, ever since Padre, I have been really praying about this, and trying to think about the blessings of my life that make me feel true excitement. And I want to hear about this from YOU! What fires you up, floats your boat, and blows your hair back? (Keep it clean, please. There are some yung'ns who read this Blog)! ;-) I'll give you my list first (albeit, a partial one; we don't want this turning into the Christmas Letter). And I'll look VERY forward to seeing yours! Maybe we'll all turn each other on to some excitement-worthy things that we've been missing out on!

And who knows? Maybe we'll get so excited that we just can't sleep...

WHAT MAKES ME FEEL EXCITED:

1) Any and all time spent with my nieces and nephews.
2) My Dad's amazingly positive outlook, zest for living, and continued thirst for knowledge.
3) Laughing with my brothers and sisters.
4) Finding new meaning in a Scripture I've read hundreds of times before.
5) Sitting outside and listening to live music in Austin.
6) Bodysurfing at South Padre Island when the waves are really big.
7) Hearing or thinking of a song I love, and downloading it as soon as is humanly possible.
8) Buying shoes at Season Clearance for 75% off.
9) The life-sustaining and life-saving gifts of modern medicine.
10) Knowing that my God loves me Just As I Am - completely and unconditionally.
11) Knowing that there are people willing to die for our freedom and safety (military troops, policemen, firemen, etc).
12) Hearing a great sermon.
13) Flipping channels late at night and stumbling upon a movie that I love.
14) A rare cold day in Texas, one in which I have to wear a sweater, mittens, a coat, and a scarf.
15) Any comforting or funny memory of my Mom.
16) Getting personal mail or email.
17) Any wonder in the sky - a gorgeous sunset, a rainbow (we had a HUGE one in Austin yesterday), a beautiful sunrise (I won't lie - I don't see these often).
18) Anything Beth Moore says or writes.
19) Running into or making contact with an old friend.
20) Laughing so hard with girlfriends that it literally makes my stomach hurt.

Ok, your turn!

Love,
Kristin

Back To The Gym

2007-06-14T11:06:00.000-07:00

I returned to the gym.

It had been four months since my last visit. Four months at $15 a month. That's roughly $60 in membership fees down the tubes, a sixty dollars that could have been spent on a couple of pairs of fabulously cute summer shoes from DSW. But really, it's ok. I continue to pay my gym membership because, regardless of how long my absences may be, I always, always, always go back. It's just not always pretty when I do.

My consistency in working out has been wildy erratic over the years. I will go through phases in which working out is as much a part of my daily routine as is brushing my teeth. Alternately, I will completely lose interest in it, and getting myself to the gym becomes this monumental task, as if someone is asking me to stick needles in my eyes. When it comes to working out, I generally live in these extremes - I either love it or I don't - and I find that very odd, because this is really the only thing in my life that I can say that about. Usually, once I love something, I love it forever. And ever. And ever. It's just the way I'm built. Those of you who have seen the 24"x36" "Sound of Music" poster that has been hanging in my college dorm/post-college apartment/adult home for the last 20 years know exactly what I am talking about.

It's always a bit daunting returning to the gym after a long sabbatical, and this time was no different. As I walked through the doors last week, I felt like all eyes had shifted my way, but I'm sure that in reality no one was was paying a lick of attention to me. I approached the front desk to show my membership card (NOTE: I keep my membership card on my keychain, thus creating the illusion that I work out so frequently, that I MUST have my membership card with me at ALL times). I was greeted by a very young, perky, smiley girl who was no doubt named Tiffany, Kaitlyn, or Amber. She looked very fit and healthy, and I knew immediately that she had more asparagus in her diet than me. She greeted me with great warmth, which meant that she was either really sweet, or she thought I was a new member, because in all the months she has been working at Gold's Gym, she has never once seen my fat face.

I started walking toward the stretching area, in the back part of the gym. At this point, I was struck at how adept we human beings can be at masking our true feelings. Inside, I was plagued with self-doubt as I strode past the rows and rows of ellipticals, hard bodies, and treadmills, but you never would have known that I was in the least bit intimidated. I strutted through that place projecting an enormous amount of confidence. Think John Travolta as Tony Manero in the opening sequence of "Saturday Night Fever." I could almost hear Barry Gibb's falsetto in my head: "Well you can tell by the way I use my walk..."

But in the same way that we soon learned that Tony worked in a paint shop for $2.25 an hour, blew all his money at the disco every weekend, and had the most dysfunctional family in all of Brooklyn, I too was about to see my wall of bravado come crashing down.

The stretching part actually went quite well. Back in 2003, I had worked with a personal trainer for about 11.7 seconds, and she had taught me some pretty good stretching techniques. It was when I actually jumped on one of the machines that things got interesting. Or pitiful, however you choose to look at it.

I made my way to one of the ellipticals, and made sure I chose one right in front of one of the TV's. I also made sure I was near the area where all of the boys lift weights . These two distractions, coupled with some fabulous hand-picked tunes playing in my head, provided me with just the right amount of entertainment. Said entertainment is necessary because the elliptical is quite possibly the most boring piece of machinery on God's green earth.

But great cardio, man.

I hopped on the machine with all of the aforementioned Manero-esque swagger I could muster. Before starting your workout, you have to program all of this personal information about yourself so it can accurately calculate how many calories you have burned. First on the list is ENTER WEIGHT. Usually the digital scale starts at 150, and you push the Up or Down button in order to get to your weight. I'll let you guess which direction I go in. This is always a slightly embarassing period of time for me because the numbers move rather slowly, and I feel like it takes me 12 years to get to my weight. For some reason, however, this scale started at 50. "Sweet Lord," I thought, "I'm gonna be here all night". So, I pushed the Up button and all of the sudden, it jammed at 59. Fifty-nine pounds.

Um, yeah. In my butt.

As I continued struggling with the machine, I just knew that all eyes were on me now. And I could hear what they were thinking: "Looks like Chub's first time on the elliptical." I wanted to scream at all of them, "I know how to do this! I ROCK on this machine! I raise the roof! I bring the funk!" But alas, Ellipticus Maximus Boringus would not cooperate with me. So, I finally conceded defeat, jumped off of the machine, and hopped on the one next to me. So frustrated, I sounded just like Napoleon Dynamite in my head: "GAH! This is RETARDED!" Fortunately, this elliptical worked fine, I began my workout, and life was good again.

The endorphins started kicking in right away, the boys lifting weights looked good, and my tunes were spurning me on. Then I started to notice that I kept getting looks from every guy that walked by. Lingering looks. This does not happen to me very often, so I began to wonder what this was all about. Was my figure already looking fabulous? Then a guy looked right at me, gave me the thumbs up, and mouthed the words, "I like your shirt." That was it! I was wearing one of my Beatles t-shirts! Boys always dig my Beatles shirts. Major dude-magnet if there ever was one. A modicum of coolness started creeping back into my consciousness. Then, my MP3 player started playing a Johnny Cash song, "Walk The Line." I couldn't help but sing along, "I keep a close watch on this heart of mine." A guy working out right in front of me must have heard me, because he looked up at me at smiled. Oh man, I am in the cool stratosphere now!

And then it happened.

"Walk The Line" drew to a close and my MP3, with its songs in alphabetical order, moved to the next song: "You Light Up My Life", by Debby Boone. "So many nights, I'd sit by my window..." And with that, my cool points went out the window. "You Light Up My Life" was one of the first songs I ever downloaded, because I love schmaltzy 70's pop, and that song was the first that I ever sang in front of an audience. Indeed, "You Light Up My Life" can still bring me to tears. That is who I am. Sentimental, simple, geeky, goofy...miles and miles away from cool.

I completed my workout shortly thereafter, and left the gym feeling great. Euphoric actually. I gave a wink and a goodbye to Tiffany/Kaitlyn/Amber as if to say, "See ya tomorrow kid." As I stepped out into the sun, I said a prayer right then and there, asking God to take away my ridiculous self-consumption and my silly insecurities, and to help me abandon all of my "gotta seem cool" efforts. I further asked Him to remind me tomorrow of how good I felt today, so that there would be no internal battle about whether or not to go to the gym. It is, after all, the right place for me to be.

And as Debby Boone would say, "It can't be wrong, when it feels so right."

What Is Your Occupation?

2007-06-13T11:45:00.000-07:00

I recently spent a Thursday evening signing myself up for the dating website E-Harmony.com. I did so in the company of a few slices of pizza, a couple of margaritas, and a gaggle of some of my best girlfriends (specifically, some of my sorority sisters from Texas A&M). A perfect gathering.

The whole evening was a blast - my girlfriends surrounding me at the computer, encouraging and cheering me on, and all of us cracking up when I had to be really honest on questions like, "How neat do you generally keep your bedroom area?" (um...that would be an unequivocal "not very"). There will no doubt be many funny E-Harmony date stories to tell in the weeks and months ahead, and I will certainly share those with you.

But that is not the purpose of my post today.

When I was filling out my E-Harmony Questionnaire (which is roughly 143,682 questions long, by the way), the first question was: "What Is Your Occupation?" For the first time in my life, I was able to answer that question exactly as I wanted to, and my fingers hurriedly typed the words "Musician/Screenwriter". I felt such a rush upon writing that, but it was quickly followed by a wave of self-doubt. I mean, I've never sold a song or a script. No one outside of my immediate circle knows any of my work. I quit my 14-year corporate job only a few weeks ago. My current occupation, technically, is "Unemployed, Babysitting Occasionally."

I wrestled with this for a moment, and then I remembered a wonderful nugget of wisdom that I once heard screenwriter/director Kevin Smith say. I'm paraphrasing here, but this was the gist: "If you're a filmmaker, then you're a filmmaker. Don't call yourself an aspiring filmmaker. If you're working on making a film, then you're a filmmaker." These days, I spend most of my time writing songs and writing screenplays, so according to Kevin's logic - which I rather like - I am, indeed, a Musician and a Screenwriter.

But I am not writing all of this to tell you what a Hot to Trot job title I have these days. Rather, I want to use this - my very first post in the Blogosphere - to give official thanks and praise and glory to those who have brought me where I am today.

I first offer gratitude to the Lord my God, whose counsel and guidance I have diligently sought and have desperately needed from the moment this crazy "leave-my-job-and-become-an-artist" thing first entered my mind. He has been faithful as ever, and has been extra-gracious and sweet in providing me with all kinds of affirmations along the way. What wondrous love is this, oh my soul. To you, my God, I vow to give honor and glory to Your Name in all of my artistic endeavors.

I second offer gratitude to YOU - my dear family and friends. When I shared my plans with each of you, you invariably responded with encouragement and excitement. Some of you quite literally jumped for joy or clasped your hands together and gasped with glee! All of you proclaimed your belief in me. Many of you offered prayers. Even if you thought that I was a little bit of a nutjob for doing this, you kindly kept those thoughts to yourself. ;-)

There are so many ways to say thank you, and I will be thanking God and you for the rest of my life and in a number of ways.

But consider this the first official one.

Love,
Kristin
Musician/Screenwriter