Preface:
1) This is my first song I have ever written, so ... it is what it is ...
2) This is what I can piece together of the day my mom found out she had cancer
Truth (Tell no lies)
It’s Dad’s Birthday today
Home from school I see my mother first
She freezes as she tells me
Dad’s birthday is now six months away
Walking in the door
I can see that something’s wrong
And the Script that’s rehearsed fades as
I see into her eyes,
They tell me all I need to know
That you are afraid
So tell, tell me no lies
So I am not alone
To make up all the ‘coulds’ and ‘ifs,’
If you go …
Dad is doing his best to be strong
But he is torn apart I don’t notice
He is crying on the inside
And I simply dismiss the pain in the room
Going back to my life
He follows me outside
With a breath he says everything
I see into his eyes,
They tell me all I need to know
That you are afraid
So tell, tell me no lies
So I am not alone
To make up all the ‘coulds’ and ‘ifs,’
If you go …
I count myself one of the lucky ones
He and she are still with me
I have not felt the pain of death
But somehow I know when …
I see into your eyes,
They tell me all I need to know
That you are afraid
So I, I you no lies,
That I don’t understand it all
But I will be here
If you call
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Sunday, May 27, 2007
The Minstrel
I wrote a song over the last week. Granted it was for a class, but it has some traction. I'm not 100% happy with all the words, but I'll post them here after Tuesday night when I play it for class.
It is kinda scary...
It is kinda scary...
Friday, May 25, 2007
I Don't Know
It isn’t quite finals week but it feels like it…
“Only when grace is recognized to be incomprehensible is it grace.” - Karl Barth
Turned in a paper on Wednesday (the 23rd) regarding Karl Barth and Adolf von Harnack. And while the paper is done, this quote still comes back around to bother me and comfort me all at the same time. Last night was no different as the Presby group on campus had their graduation banquet and one of the main points of the evening was being a steward of the mysteries of God.
Now … I find myself a very practical, logistical, almost strategic person. When doing a task I normally can see most of the angles and many of the problems that could arise from any number of situations. I am a firm believer in Murphy’s Law and to some extent enjoy a good challenge. Yet through all of this I try to be aware of where and when God moves through all of these things. I have seen moderately planned events that should have been stressful turn out like roses. I have seen the most structured plans go off the deep end and drown. In both of these cases I have seen God affect lives and work through hearts.
It is in these mysteries that I find an odd combination of peace and nervousness. I want to understand, I want to know, I want to have something tangible to grab onto. I want to have a little bit of God in a box, just to say that I understand that much. That isn’t to say that I don’t understand the purpose of everything that has been done, but the ‘how?’ and from time to time the ‘why?’ trip me up. When dealing with a mystery we, or at least I, want to find out the answer. And where there is no answer, then I have to accept the fact that it is a mystery and … be OK with that? …
I forget how one of my professors put it but the basic idea was to ‘dwell with the mysteries of God.’ Dwell is an interesting word and it is almost ‘living by choice’ rather than just ‘being among.’ I think there are some mysteries that I dwell with, although I can’t describe them. Other mysteries have maybe come over and spent the night. Perhaps there are some that I dwell with that I don’t even know about. More than anything I think the acceptance of the mysteries of God allows me to say ‘I don’t know.’ And there is a peace in those words, some tension, but a peace an humbling that works as a reminder to recognize that there are things that are incomprehensible.
“Only when grace is recognized to be incomprehensible is it grace.” - Karl Barth
Turned in a paper on Wednesday (the 23rd) regarding Karl Barth and Adolf von Harnack. And while the paper is done, this quote still comes back around to bother me and comfort me all at the same time. Last night was no different as the Presby group on campus had their graduation banquet and one of the main points of the evening was being a steward of the mysteries of God.
Now … I find myself a very practical, logistical, almost strategic person. When doing a task I normally can see most of the angles and many of the problems that could arise from any number of situations. I am a firm believer in Murphy’s Law and to some extent enjoy a good challenge. Yet through all of this I try to be aware of where and when God moves through all of these things. I have seen moderately planned events that should have been stressful turn out like roses. I have seen the most structured plans go off the deep end and drown. In both of these cases I have seen God affect lives and work through hearts.
It is in these mysteries that I find an odd combination of peace and nervousness. I want to understand, I want to know, I want to have something tangible to grab onto. I want to have a little bit of God in a box, just to say that I understand that much. That isn’t to say that I don’t understand the purpose of everything that has been done, but the ‘how?’ and from time to time the ‘why?’ trip me up. When dealing with a mystery we, or at least I, want to find out the answer. And where there is no answer, then I have to accept the fact that it is a mystery and … be OK with that? …
I forget how one of my professors put it but the basic idea was to ‘dwell with the mysteries of God.’ Dwell is an interesting word and it is almost ‘living by choice’ rather than just ‘being among.’ I think there are some mysteries that I dwell with, although I can’t describe them. Other mysteries have maybe come over and spent the night. Perhaps there are some that I dwell with that I don’t even know about. More than anything I think the acceptance of the mysteries of God allows me to say ‘I don’t know.’ And there is a peace in those words, some tension, but a peace an humbling that works as a reminder to recognize that there are things that are incomprehensible.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Breaking Stuff
So I have broken a few things in my lifetime. Some have caused me personal injury, others were a source of personal anger management errr relaxation therapy, some things were meant to be broken, and other things were not.
These are a few stories about the ‘nots.’
This idea came to me today as I have broken my capo for my guitar. For those of you playing the home game; a capo is a piece of metal that goes on the strings of the guitar to alter the sound that the strings make. It is commonly used to make playing songs easier instead of having to use difficult to maintain finger positions. A capo is basically spring loaded and I broke the spring. Now the spring is a solid piece of metal that, although under a great deal of stress, should not break easily. The broken off part would probably require a tetanus shot if I poked you with it. Now … Guitar playing lends itself to strong hands, more notably so when you learn to play bar chords (one of the reasons to get a capo). But I didn’t think I was THAT strong. This resulted in me going to guitar center and picking up a new one, but I did have a solid 20 minutes of shock trying to figure out what in the world just happened.
A memorial service will be held for the capo at a latter date…
The earlier memory was back a few years when I was playing in a high school youth band. Now … guitar strings break all the time, I don’t break them all that often, but when I do they are more of an annoyance than anything else. It is such a common occurrence that volumes of jokes have been written about the 4th string down from the top. However, in the high school band I didn’t know how to play guitar … just bass guitar. Now I didn’t break the smallest string on my bass, I broke the largest. This string (I just looked on my current bass) is about the same thickness as my capo spring. Luckily this was in practice so that I could just go barrow the pastor’s and play for the rest of the evening, but I received many jokes about the 4th string down and many comments of fearfulness that I could crush someone with my thumb. That and our acoustic guitar player would always break strings so it was his turn to get some of the sass out of his system. It was ok, he still breaks strings on a monthly basis.
I feel like I should have more funny stories about this … but nope. As it is my hands are going to have be registered as lethal weapons to musical equipment. Mothers, do you know where your pianos are?
These are a few stories about the ‘nots.’
This idea came to me today as I have broken my capo for my guitar. For those of you playing the home game; a capo is a piece of metal that goes on the strings of the guitar to alter the sound that the strings make. It is commonly used to make playing songs easier instead of having to use difficult to maintain finger positions. A capo is basically spring loaded and I broke the spring. Now the spring is a solid piece of metal that, although under a great deal of stress, should not break easily. The broken off part would probably require a tetanus shot if I poked you with it. Now … Guitar playing lends itself to strong hands, more notably so when you learn to play bar chords (one of the reasons to get a capo). But I didn’t think I was THAT strong. This resulted in me going to guitar center and picking up a new one, but I did have a solid 20 minutes of shock trying to figure out what in the world just happened.
A memorial service will be held for the capo at a latter date…
The earlier memory was back a few years when I was playing in a high school youth band. Now … guitar strings break all the time, I don’t break them all that often, but when I do they are more of an annoyance than anything else. It is such a common occurrence that volumes of jokes have been written about the 4th string down from the top. However, in the high school band I didn’t know how to play guitar … just bass guitar. Now I didn’t break the smallest string on my bass, I broke the largest. This string (I just looked on my current bass) is about the same thickness as my capo spring. Luckily this was in practice so that I could just go barrow the pastor’s and play for the rest of the evening, but I received many jokes about the 4th string down and many comments of fearfulness that I could crush someone with my thumb. That and our acoustic guitar player would always break strings so it was his turn to get some of the sass out of his system. It was ok, he still breaks strings on a monthly basis.
I feel like I should have more funny stories about this … but nope. As it is my hands are going to have be registered as lethal weapons to musical equipment. Mothers, do you know where your pianos are?
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Musical Intermission
So I have a paper due this week (in 24 hrs). So here are a couple of fun pieces for your enjoyment by a guy by the name of Trace Bundy. Really stinking good guitar player.
Pachelbel Canon
Carol of the Bells
Your regular nonsensical drivel will return next week.
Enjoy
Pachelbel Canon
Carol of the Bells
Your regular nonsensical drivel will return next week.
Enjoy
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