A situation has arisen that has me questioning nearly everything. My motives and intentions, my ability to love as I ought to love, my friendships, my work; I feel like I’m being subjected to a scrutinizing exam to which I have none of the answers. That all sounds a bit dramatic which is something I don’t like to hear in my own words. I tend to get that way when I am feeling this low. Let’s put it this way: it’s tough to be hated. How am I to react to that? Apology, guilt, shock, sadness, anger, defensiveness – each of them have marched into my heart and are taking turns at the top of the stack.
Of course the words of Christ keep flashing into my brain, “turn the other cheek”… and the work of mercy to bear wrongs patiently. This isn’t to say I have no responsibility in this situation or that I am wholly without guilt. Yet I have never felt more keenly what Christ was talking about, that there would be circumstances that call for meekness instead of anger, patience instead of rash reactions, sacrifice for reparation instead of defense of pride. Only He knows what I’ll need in order to actually do those things; they certainly aren’t going to come out of my own strength or goodness.
For now I’d settle for some confidence in the “this too shall pass” mantra.
Nickel Creek has been popping up on my Pandora mix. The songs are creating a nostalgic ache in me. How I miss them! I hope you won’t mind if I write a little ode to the band and their gorgeous music. I well remember the first time I discovered Nickel Creek. Channel flipping in the 4th floor lounge of the college dormitory, the sound I heard when I reached CMT (which used to play music videos most of the day instead of inane reality television) made me put down the remote. On the screen were three kids… well, not really kids. They looked to be my age. A guy with a guitar, a girl with a violin, and a guy with a mandolin. There they were, harmonizing on “When You Come Back Down,” and there I was, riveted. The sound created by their voices and instruments struck me as thrilling and soothing at the same time. I had to hear more! Based on half a music video, I bought their album. I knew every word by heart in a matter of days. I couldn’t get enough.
While falling in love with their music, I fell out of love with a lot of formerly enjoyable music. It dawned on me that musicians could do so much better; that songs could be more genuine, more clever; that I didn’t need to settle for the clear cut categories of ‘pop’ and ‘country’ that the radio stations hailed as all the best music. Listening to Nickel Creek at 19 years old changed the way I have listened to music ever since and it changed what sort of music I wanted to hear. I’d love to thank them for that.
The band turned out to consist of brother and sister, Sean and Sara Watkins and friend, Chris Thile. Before they wrapped up their Nickel Creek life, I saw them in concert four times, fell in love with each of their albums and introduced a wide range of folks to their music. Each album (only 3, sadly, not counting the hits collection or their pre-major label album) is astoundingly unique. Each stands on its own as a strong piece of art, carrying in it the band’s sound – bluegrass, folk, americana… a single name is not enough – as well as a particular style that shapes that whole album, and only that album. Songs with Chris in the lead, Sara in the lead, Sean in the lead; songs featuring Sean’s incredible guitar skills or Sara’s emotionally alive fiddle performances or Chris’s mandolin that he managed to make sound like a whole collection of mandolins playing together. And the harmonies! Needless to say, the concerts are among the best concerts I’ve every been privileged to enjoy. My first one, at Northwestern in Evanston, and the third one, in Green Bay at the Meyer Theater, are right up at the top with my favorite experiences in life.
A couple years ago, the members of Nickel Creek decided to call it a day. Who can blame them? Only in their mid to late 20s, the band had already been performing together for the majority of their lives. They’ve each continued making music through a variety of projects (Sean’s collaboration with Jon Foreman as “Fiction Family” and his solo “Blinders On”, Sara’s solo record released this year, and both “Deceiver” and “How to Grow a Woman From the Ground” by Chris are all ridiculously good) but I can’t deny that there are days that pop up when I only wish for new music from Nickel Creek. After the amazing album that was “Why Should the Fire Die,” I am fascinated by the question of what they’d have managed to do next!
I know the common phrase is “joy comes with the morning,” but I think mornings are capable of variety. Or rather grace is capable of variety, especially in the morning.
Last night brought on a little bit of a breakdown. The mental efforts of teaching RCIA last night and sorting out what each individual needs as they prepare to enter the Church, piled onto tiredness from a string of late nights, piled onto the 14 more classes to write, piled onto the manuscript synopsis I have yet to complete, piled onto the fact that I haven’t written any new pages in the new novel in several weeks, piled onto a little loneliness and a little “what the heck are you doing with my life, Lord?”… the layers set me up for a rough night. I just wanted to pull myself out. Remembering the shape of my life a few years ago, when I was still too new to the area and my church community to be very involved in anything, I had nothing to stop me from filling my hours with writing and reading and adequate hours of sleep. And I was happy; I was grateful. My spirit came alive in an entirely new way as I wrote my first book. I thought it would last. I thought, “this is what God had in store for me and I had no idea until now.”
That life ebbed until it is all but gone and I’m left asking myself why I let it happen. Was it my own doing? Or did God ask me to sacrifice for the sake of serving in His Church? I don’t know the answer. I fell asleep praying for renewed faith in God’s directing hand. I awoke with the same questions on my mind but a seedling of bolstered faith taking hold beneath the troubled surface.
But you, LORD, are a shield around me;
my glory, you keep my head high.
Whenever I cried out to the LORD,
I was answered from the holy mountain.
Whenever I lay down and slept,
It’s new music Tuesday, ladies and gents. While I’m glad to see David Gray has a new release that I’ll be sure to check out, what really has me dancing in my chair is the arrival of Matt Maher’s new album, “Alive Again.”
Matt Maher inspires me to do all sorts of things, like get up to watch the sunrise more often, write my second book, believe that I’ll be published one day, sing at the top of my lungs in the car, read the Bible more frequently, humble myself, be authentically Catholic in every circumstance, declare my love… you know, things like that. He is a beautiful, holy instrument of Christ and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wishing to sneak out of the office and drive directly to Family Christian Stores to buy “Alive Again.” This afternoon will be a small lesson in patience.
Here’s a superb video of Matt expressing the heart of the new album. (I think superb is my new word of choice. That’s usage number two today.)
Several days in a row, one thing or another has made me think, “I should put that in my blog.” Yet, it had to wait. So let’s see if I can catch this blog up with my thoughts.
First of all, if you like riesling even a little bit and you have the chance to try Chateau Grand Traverse Late Harvest Riesling (from the Chateau Grand Traverse winery on Old Mission Peninsula, MI), please do so. You will thank yourself for this treat. I tried it on Saturday night and it was by far the best riesling that has ever touched my lips. I could easily have consumed the whole bottle, but restricted myself to 2 glasses. It’s not really sold outside of lower Michigan so I wanted the chance to savor the taste more than once since it’ll be a while before I can purchase it again.
Last night was a historic night for me: I saw U2 in concert! Seeing a live show of U2 has been on my ‘do before I die’ list since the first time I put together said list. I finally can cross something off! The show was amazing. They played Soldier Field (while the Bears were away being beaten by the Packers). Everything about the night was fantastic. If the videos or pictures turned out alright on my humble little camera, I’ll post some here.
I keep meeting cute boys… and not dating the cute boys I meet. Oh the infuriating pattern of my singleness… But I continue thanking God for His reminders that there are some great men out there, even if so far they only come in the form of friends. Must be thankful in all things, must be thankful in all things, must be thankful…
The ball is rolling with this year of ministry. I’m already having to pray my way out of feeling overwhelmed. It’s all so exciting! I am officially the RCIA Coordinator at my parish; a role I hoped to eventually have since my junior year of college. The season of volunteering is beginning too, with Adult Faith Nights, 40 Days for Life vigil and Frassati Society topping the list. A few months ago, I was trying to give some concrete form to the extent of and ways in which I volunteer. Like most things I try to handle by myself, I actually needed to wait on God to direct me and place me in the situations in which He desired me to serve. I’m trying to roll with it and realize the goodness of not being in control; trying to have confidence in all the ways God reaches out, takes my hand and says “Go with me here.” Rolling with it requires a lot of fear-conquering prayer and trust. And some self-discipline in spending my time on the right things and not usually the easiest things. (Can I help it if I go into withdrawals when I can’t watch a few Brewer games each week? Or if I am hooked on CSI:NY reruns? …Yeah, I suppose I probably can help it… At least the baseball season is nearly over for the Crew.)
And the books. I have to write an update on the books, right? Right. Unfortunately nothing substantial to report. Still no final word from Moody Publishing. “How long, O Lord?” Yes, yes, I’m being overdramatic. It is endlessly difficult to patient though, as well as to not get caught up in the fearfulness of questioning what I should do next if Moody turns it down. At times, the only thing that keeps me going is to focus all my mental energy on writing the new book but everything else that has been going on has kept me from that endeavor lately. This leaves my mind to wander down paths of doubt that are both pointless and painful. I think I’ll need to get back into scheduling mode for my writing. I did that when I was in the home stretch of finishing Full of Days, writing blocks of time into my calendar that were set aside for the work instead of counting on finding time here and there in the course of the week. I’m nowhere near the home stretch of writing The Mercy Hour but the scheduling might be a must at this point. It either has to be a priority alongside of the other top priorities or it has to be set aside in favor of the others. Any time I consider setting it aside, my friend’s incredulous questioning of my honest dedication to being a writer ring yet again in my ears and I know I have to follow through.
Undeniably, I’ve become one of those girls who lives by her daily planner and yet strives to be open to the unexpected and spontaneous. It’s an adventure. Would it be possible to just plan on the unexpected and spontaneous? I do like to at least feel prepared, and like Tolkien pointed out, “It will not do to leave a live dragon out of your plans if you live near one.”
Jess and I went to see the movie “Post Grad” last night. A so-so romantic comedy with several high points mixed with plenty of predictability. Even though the movie was just on the high end of okay, it did get me thinking. I walked down the dark steps of the theater considering how believable I found the movie. All I have to do is remember my senior year of college and the year that followed and I can confirm that it is possible for every single well-made plan to crash and burn. When that’s the case, the level of frustration can reach a point where you simply aren’t sure which direction you want/should/could turn. It becomes nearly impossible to trust yourself to take the reigns again and move your life forward because clearly your odds of screwing it up are sizable. Truth is, I still have days where that distrust in myself is a defining characteristic. They pass, sure, but eventually they come again. When I am able to clear my head I like to think that in a few years I will be happily able to look back on this time (this in-between time, such as it is) and realize I had no reason to worry while I waited.
So, my boss compared me to Craig Counsell today. An ‘ultimate utility player’ was his phrase. You have to be a Brewers fan to understand, but that’s a darn good compliment. 🙂 Makes me a little less impatient with the fact that I’ve spent three-fifths of my work week covering three other people’s jobs when they each took a different day off.
I’m looking forward to this crazy weekend. Not sure how I’ll be fitting everything in but the attempt should prove itself fun. Let’s see… house & dog-sitting for friends, a cookout with a group of friends (really must figure out what I’m contributing to that meal and when I’ll find time to make it), a zany olympics competition with the same group (here’s hoping I don’t fall off the balance beam or fall victim to any of the other ready occasions for humiliation), cooking an owed dinner for someone and watching the Brewers game with him on Saturday night, and (hopefully, hopefully, hopefully) finishing chapter six and at least starting chapter seven of the new book. The only reason I’m not mad at myself for having this kind of weekend after this kind of week, is that next week looks to be full of chill out evening hours and very little scheduled activity. So as long as I am still standing come Monday, I’m confident I’ll recover.
Tonight is my last tennis lesson of the summer. I’m really glad I signed up for it. Am I a better tennis player now? Weeeelllllll…. let’s just say I am a tennis player now. I do actually know what moves to make and swings to choose and how to serve properly, which wasn’t the case at the start of the summer. However, learning how to play doesn’t guarantee being able to play. But the absence of ignorance of the game has at least been replaced with the slightest amount of skill, and I’m glad for that.
This morning I thought it was Friday. One of the truly great disappointments in life, in my opinion.
Carrie In Writing 