Requiem for a Dream

The Little Man and I went for a walk last night.  The Bug needed a Daddy Date so she and The Fly went for ice cream.  I needed fresh air.  So we went for a walk.

I ran into Rosalyn.  She is a neighbor a few blocks up.  Her daughter was in a class I taught.  We chatted.  She called me, “passionate.”  She said I seemed to be, “passionate,” about what I was doing.

I was passionate.  A long time ago.  But it’s taken a long time to let myself feel passionate again in certain areas. 

My 21 year old self playing a 12 year old Mary Lennox in The Secret Garden.

I started singing show tunes again. 

For a long time I had a hard time listening to them, let alone, singing along.  They reminded me of a dream I once had, a dream that seemed to dissipate or evaporate as the years went by.

I told you a few posts ago that I wanted to be a country singer when I grew up.  Well, that was the first of my performance and fame based careers I had my sights set upon. I was going to be famous and in my Homecoming Court article I so eloquently told the interviewer that I wanted to, “bring a touch of humanity to Hollywood.”  I had no idea what I was talking about.  I was always a fan of alliteration so it had a nice ring to it.  Humanity to Hollywood...I’m pretty sure Hollywood is already made up of enough Humanity, human nature...perhaps, I should have said, bring a touch of humility to Hollywood.  Now that would have been something to pursue.

My High School Comedy Sportz Team.  I am middle row, dark brown hair, making kissy face.

I had big dreams.

I doodled about them everyday in class.  I was an excellent student.  (Enter Sarcasm Here.)

My senior quote was,

High diddlee-dee
An actor’s life for me
And as they say in Hollywood,
‘I’ll see you in the movies!’

Touching.  I know.  Inspiring?  Certainly.  Ambitious?  You could say that.  A bit self-centered?  Well, I was 17.

So I went to pursue my dream.  And, before I could even get started it felt like the door was slammed shut, dead-bolted and cemented in.

However, another door flew wide open.  It was one He had been knocking on for a while.  My heart opened.  I let it be captured.  And everything changed.

But it came with a cost.  I could have continued on my own course using anything I had control over to get me what I wanted.  He would have still loved me the same.  But, after feeling what I felt, after being rescued from so much I could do nothing but lay my motives down, lay my dreams down, lay myself down and say...I want what You have for me, Lord.

So one day at a time took a step farther away from Hollywood Hopes and Stages and Songs and one step closer to young people, kids and students.  I began teaching rather than singing.  I began preparing experiences rather than performing musical numbers.

Teachin' and Preachin'

I was angry deep down.  It hurt so bad.  I didn’t understand.  Every time I would let those feelings surface for a moment the tears would flood and I would push it all back down.  “What I am doing now is so much more fulfilling,” I would say to my brain and then to my heart.  “This is where God has me in this season,” a sure way to turn the heat down so the contents of my heart would not boil over.

Then babies came.  You can’t pursue dreams when you have babies, right?  They are dreams come true in of themselves.  It would be so selfish of me to want what I used to want...I told myself.

Time goes on and priorities change.  New ones take center stage.  Those who can’t do, teach, they say.  So I found myself singing and dancing with 6 year olds, and 8 year olds and 12 year olds...teaching them so they can go and do and entertain.

I love it.  I love picking out the songs.  I love choreographing the numbers.  Dance was my number 3 (Actor/Singer/Dancer) but I have managed to retain my box steps, pivots and jazz hands...the foundations for any good Broadway number.

I find joy in all of it.  I find joy in being with little people, who, honestly aren’t that much littler than my 5’ frame.  I love on them.  I love teaching them.  I love seeing them get it.  I love their costumes and smiles on recital night.  I fall in love with each of them as they sing and dance their little hearts out...so full of hope and ambition.  I love it.

But every time I am with them I feel like a little more of me is dying inside.  I hate to say that.  I hate to admit that it hurts.  Not because I don’t want to share that I hurt but because I don’t want anyone to think that I am disappointed.  I have a beautiful life.  I am so very grateful for it.  It is vibrant and I thrive most days...but there is a place, deep down, that doesn’t understand.

Why God, did you give me the love for a stage?  Why God, did you give me a Broadway voice?  Why God, did you let me sing and dance and act only to strip me of it all just as I was getting me feet wet?  Why, God did I dream big dreams just to see them slowly fade away?

I never talk about this.  But for some reason it is all welling up.  And as I type I can’t stop the waters from rising and pouring out. 

These verses I have been chewing on take center stage in my mind as the emotions take center stage in my chest:  

John 12:23-25
Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.  Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.  Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
He also says, “whoever finds His life will lose it and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 10:39)

One more from Secret Garden.  This is with dear, talented friends.  I miss them.

I feel like it all had to die.  The dreams, the goals, the aspirations...they all had to die.  I had to let go.  I wanted them all for all the wrong reasons.  Had I not “lost,” them I might die searching for my worth in them.

Sometimes something has to die...we have to let go so we can move forward to what God is calling us to.  I think this is what happened to me.  And, for the first time, I am letting myself grieve the loss.  And, I think that is a good thing.

It’s time for a Requiem, a funeral song.  It’s time to just let the tears fall.  It’s time to surrender the questions and the disappointment.  It’s okay.  My God can handle it.

I do this.  I “ugly cry” to my God.  I let the feelings surface.  I experience the disappointment.  I sit in it.  It is raw.  I thank God the kids are napping and I sob some more. 

Deep breath.  I remember.  He is for me.  He created me.  He gave me my gifts, my talents.  I have purpose.  He wants to use those things for His good...and I want that too.

I remember Easter is coming.  We celebrate the fact that Jesus died for us.  He had to.  “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed.  But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”  He died for me so I may have a new life...one where a crop can be produced if I choose to follow Him.

Matthew 16:24
Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

The cross.


Jesus died and was raised so that when I lose my earthly life I too am raised with Him.  Victory over our sin.  Victory over death.  Grace so undeserved.  Love so generously poured out.

The least I can do is offer him all of me.  Every last toe-tapping, jazz-handing, show tune signing bit. 

So today I mourn and offer up my disappointment.  But then I remember what someone once told me, “A disappointment means it just wasn’t your appointment.”

As the grief subsides the joy sinks in.  I remember that He is not done with me yet and I look forward as I let go.

I will keep singing.  Loudly and brightly, belting out so the world can hear me.  I have good reason to sing.

Seeds

Time to prepare the ground for something new.

I have this empty patch of dirt in my front yard.  Last year I planted some flowers there.  They were the kind that eventually die as the seasons change.  In Southern California that takes a while but, alas, they are gone, and the soil is ready for something new.

I feel like that is happening inside of me.

I am ready for something new.  The kiddos turn four and two as soon as strawberries are ready to be picked.  I remember craving fresh strawberries while waiting to birth them and bring them into this world.  I sent the fly to the local strawberry farm over and over again.  They were as sweet as candy.  I won’t ever forget.

My little Strawberry Shortcake at her 3rd Birthday Party

Little Man at his 1st Birthday...look at all that hair...He doesn't look like this anymore.  Tear.

And, as it was with my real-life babies, I feel like this strawberry season is bringing...perhaps, birthing...a new season for me.  New adventures with my family and new opportunities to tell them and the world about my greatest love...Jesus.

Waiting for The Bug.  (Picture take by April at April Smith Photography)

Waiting for the Little Man.  (Picture taken by April at April Smith Photography)

I’m certain I would not be able to if I were still a captive of fear.  I feel like it was a slow deliverance of so many things and so many years.  But, for the past few weeks I feel like I have been thinking new thoughts about the things that once held such a tight grip.  I feel free.

It didn’t come easy.  Most great liberations take much effort, sacrifice...travail...to bring forth a change.  It’s true when they say, people don’t change.  What they forget to say after that, however, is that people can be transformed.

And, there is only One who can transform a heart.  There is only One who can remove a root of fear, bitterness, rejection and in its place plant seeds of trust, hope, and restoration.

God is in the business of planting seeds.  When a seed is placed in the ground it has an opportunity to become rooted and spring up.  It transforms from a hard shell to a vibrant life.

But, for a seed to grow it has to fall on good soil. 

Jesus tells a parable about seeds.  They fall on a path; the birds snatch them up.  They fall on rocky soil; they take root but not deep enough.  They are scorched by the sun.  They fall among thorns; they are choked out.  They fall on good soil; they take root...deep...and produce a crop.

Unlike most parables, He explains this one. 

The birds are the evil one who snatches away the message sown in their hearts from those who hear it and don’t understand it.

The rocky soil is one who hears and receives with great joy but the root does not go down deep and when trouble, temptation or persecution come they quickly forget.

The seed falling among the thorns is the one who hears it but worries, “deceitfulness of wealth,” pursuit of the pleasures of this life, choke it out.  It is unfruitful.

The good soil produces a crop.  It is the one who hears and understands.  A greater crop is produced...even more than what was sown.

I chewed on this parable all day.  I thought about people.  I thought about my family.  I thought about my children.  I thought about myself.

I want us all to be that good soil.  I want to see fruitfulness, joy, abundance and great things to come out of the lives of those I care so much about.

But I can’t change people.  Only God can transform a heart. 

Only God can take a captive of fear and transform her heart and mind to walk in courage.

So I prayed.  I wrestled with God all day.  Can the soil change? 

Then God did what only He can do.

We went to Saturday night church service...after a long day of discipline with the Bug...we almost didn’t go. 

I sat in my seat and asked God to help me hear a word for my own heart...I am so very good at listening for everyone but myself...I’m sure I’m the only one who struggles with that.  Smile.

Sitting in my chair, hoping for words to sink from my ears, to my mind, to my heart, He reminded me.

God reminded me that He will never stop pursuing us.  He is madly in love with each of us and “desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (1 Timothy 2:4)

It didn’t stop there.

“Therefore He is also able to save to the uttermost those who come to God through Him [Jesus], since He [Jesus] always lives to make intercession for them.”  (Hebrews 7:25)

Intercession.  So much of my heart aches for people to know the gift it is to be interceded for and to intercede for others.

“I urge then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession, and thanksgiving be made for all people...” (2 Timothy 2:1)

Interceding is simply acting on another’s behalf.  To intervene.  Four friends intercede by their actions when they lower their paralyzed friend through the roof so Jesus can heal Him.

I have been lowered in front of Jesus by others.  I think that is why I get so high-pitched, squeaky and teary-eyed when the topic comes around.

As I battled the grip fear had on me many people came alongside me on that journey.  People prayed for me, people helped me, people were courageous for me.  And, finally people asked God to break the chain that bound me, and He did.

Can I say something to you today, friend?

I don’t just write these things because I think I know what everyone else needs.  I write these things because I needed this knowledge and will continue to need it until Glory comes.

I was stolen from.  The birds of the air, the evil one, stole God’s Word before it took any root.

I was rocky.  The temptations and tribulations caused me to forget.

I was choked by the thorns.  I wanted the pleasures this life had to offer more than I wanted Jesus.

The truth is this still happens.  Thankfully, less than before, because God is in the process of transforming my heart.  Because I can say, He has done great things for me, I can walk in victory and not chained to what stole, tempted and choked.

And, with tears, I cry out, wanting this for everyone...the people I love...and even the people I don’t know.

So, what do I do?  I sow seeds.

“Those who sow with tears
    will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping,
    carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
    carrying sheaves with them.”  Psalm 126:5-6


God is in the seed business.  He plants things.  And, perhaps, today you read this and wonder what has been planted in you...and whether it is being impeded by the birds, rocks and thorns.

A word for you today, “He’s not done with you.”  A word for me today, “He’s not done with me.”  He is ready to do something new.

Hallelujah.

He is chasing your heart, friend.  Stop running.  Be still and let His Word be planted.  Ask someone to intercede for you...so you may break free of the cycle and chains of birds, rocks and thorns.  May you be transformed by the renewing of your mind.

And,  as the sun breaks through the clouds and the seedlings spring up, as the season turns, may we hear and understand.  May the knowledge of the LORD take our roots down deep.  May we then produce a crop immeasurably more than we could ever imagine.

The strawberries are almost ready.  The crop is yielding fruit. 

May this new season upon me do the same in me and through me.

I look forward to sharing it with you.

One more from waiting for Little Man.  I love how the Bug is holding her belly like mommy.

All The World's a Stage

Music will always sink straight into my soul.  I don’t know exactly what it is.  Songs have a way of bringing what is going on deep down to the tip, top, front of my thoughts.  The words and melody pour in and as the flood rises I feel things...it resonates...I connect my life and thoughts to the music.

We saw Carrie Underwood in concert on Sunday night.  Hunter Hayes opened.  Those two can sing.  Not only do they sing but they perform.  They put on a show. 

We got to go at the last minute.  A friend had extra tickets she was selling.  I looked at the Fly with puppy-dog, pleading eyes and even after utterly spoiling me earlier in the weekend, he said, “See if you can find a babysitter.” 

I did.  We went.  And it was so good.

Amidst the panting and screaming sixteen year olds and co-eds, the Fly and I and some good friends that do life with us sat in our seats and watched this young 21 year-old invigorate and inspire his audience.

“I want to make you feel wanted.”

What young girl doesn’t want that sung to her?  What “not so young girl” doesn’t want that sung to her?  What “I’m starting to feel old,” girl doesn’t want that sung to her?  And, what “I am old, there is no denying it,” girl doesn’t want that sung to her?

I pictured my high school and young, college self in the crowd that night.  I thought about how those words would make me desperate for somebody to love me.  It was what I was searching for...for so long. 

But it wasn’t my high school self or college self standing there Sunday night drinking in the words of that song.  It was my 31 year-old self, a wife, a mommy, a person who wants to see Jesus in everything...because I need to.  So I heard those words with a very different heart.  I thanked God for my husband and I thanked God. 

The show continued and Carrie took the stage.

Talk about finding a voice.  That girl found hers and let it rip. 

At one point she got on to a small stage, a platform, that was rigged to float out to the center of the stadium.  We were right beneath her when it came to its stopping point.  I waved at her and she waved back...we had a moment!



She floated back to the main stage and went on with the rest of show. 

And, boy, did she own that stage.  From the beginning to end she belted and worked it.  At one point she introduced a couple of songs that she said meant so much to her.  She sang  Temporary Home and Jesus Take the Wheel into How Great thou Art. 

I had noticed hands in the air all around us as she had been singing since she stepped on stage, but, in the moment she transitioned to How Great thou Art, I saw more hands fly up into the air.  It was hard not to get to your feet or respond somehow.  The lyrics coupled with the power in her voice created an undeniable Holy Moment in my opinion. 

Then something interesting happened.  She couldn’t hit the high notes.  We all know she can...we’ve heard it before...but in that moment her vocal chords had hit their limit and she brought it down to a safer place.  She didn’t let herself crack...She humbly did what she needed to do so the show could go on. 

It was beautiful.  No one cared.  The moment was not about how great she is...it was about how great He is.  With a smile she headed to the back of the stage to be lowered for a costume change.

I said a quick prayer for her.  I don’t know if she was upset about the moment...she handled it so graciously, it did not seem to bother her. 

If it were me I would have been beating myself up...I’m sure of it.  But as I watched her I learned something from her whether she intended to teach or not. 

The show must go on.

I have heard and said these words many times.  It is common vernacular for the theater crowd.  But Sunday night gave me a new freedom to tie to this phrase.

I am human.  Carrie is human.  The things I am able to do I am only able to do because the God who created the universe gave me the ability to do them.  And, as long as I am using those abilities properly to glorify Him he will take what may look like error, failure or mistakes and bring glory to Himself. 

I just need to take the stage He has given me and do what He is asking me to do.

I believe God has given Carrie her gifts and talents.  I believe God has given Carrie a stage and a platform and she is using it well.  She even used it that night to sing about the greatness of our God.  And, as I watched her I thought about how when I was a little girl I wanted to be a country singer.  She sang I Told You So originally by Randy Travis and talked about how she wore out her sister’s cassette tape listening to it.  I remember wearing my mom’s same cassette tape out!  Another moment.

Obviously, I am not a country singer today, although, in my car I am.  However, I do believe that there is still a stage for me to take, today.  And, that my friends, make me so happy to say.  I’ve missed a stage for a long time now.  I’ve missed performing, acting, singing, dancing.  I’ve missed my character shoes and costumes and lights.  But, Sunday night, as the music washed over my soul I was confident that God had given me a stage as well.

Right now, it is mainly for the little people in my life.  I sing from it.  I dance on it.  I teach, guide and discipline.  I speak words that hopefully bring life and encouragement to those who listen. 

Shakespeare wrote in As You Like It,

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts...

Shakespeare goes on to talk about the stages of life and how we eventually end up as infantile as we entered this world.

When I think about this quote, one I’ve held on to and savored, I am reminded that my love for a stage was wired in me by my creator.  And although at 7 and 17 I thought my stage would look one way and bring much glory to me, I am so thankful that God interfered.  My prayer is that every stage I find myself on, whether it be in a family room, a theater ,or a stadium would bring glory to Him.

So, thank you, Fly, for the night out.  It did more in heart than I can express.

Thank you, Hunter Hayes, for reminding me where I came from and where I am today.

Thank you, Carrie Underwood, for bringing glory to God and teaching me a most valuable lesson.

Thank you, dear Lord, for the stage I am on now and the part you have given me to play, today.

And as new exits and entrances come may I be humble and gracious with every part I am given....

...because the show must go on.

Me and the Fly guy.  He makes me feel wanted.