What was I thinking?

Well, I have no clue what I was doing earlier today when I had a conversation with a friend that included my dumping my emotional world, tears streaming (sorry, Doug). And when I finished that, I went upstairs and put some furniture together. There is nothing better than hammering stuff to give time for perspective. Well, a good bowl of ice cream or a chai latte does the same, but today it seems I needed a hammer.

Here's the deal: I'm speaking at women's retreat in October. My first "real" speaking all weekend deal. That in and of itself is exciting and incredibly humbling. The topic: Beauty to Unveil. As if. I should have known that God would use this time between saying "yes" to the retreat and actually getting there to refine my own thoughts and feelings on this issue. Can you say "growing pains"? And while I was swinging the hammer and still had tears streaming(may I add that I hate prednisone), two songs came on KLOVE fairly close together. Not one, two. God is good to me.

Seems like He has to use a hammer sometimes too. Natalie Grant's "The Real Me" is the core of the cry of my heart. But there is another. It reminds me that when I use the word "journey" that's exactly what it is. Selah has a remake of someone else's "Bless the Broken Road." Big hammer, there, God, thanks. And while I think it was originally recorded as a love song, and could be sung to another human, I have never heard it as anything else other than a prayer from my heart to the God who finds me beautiful, captivating, and His.

"Bless the Broken Road"
I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to You

Every long, lost dream led me to where You are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to You

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to You
But You just smile and take my hand
You've been there; You understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long, lost dream led me to where You are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to You

Now I'm just rollin home
Into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God Bless the broken road
That led me straight to You

God bless the broken road
That led me straight to You

It's the "broken road" of my life that God has used to refine, shape and use me. And while I would have preferred a less tumultuous journey, this is the one I have, and the one I choose to allow God to use as He wills. After all, it's what has led me straight to Him, in ways I would not have understood otherwise. That... is love.

Choosing Silence

I'm known for it in some circles. In fact, I think I'll practice it right now.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

I was listening to Il Divo today. Some of their stuff I don't really like all that much, but there are about 6 songs that I can listen to over and over (and three that I do...). By the time I'd heard my second favorite recording of theirs for the 5th time today, I was certain had anyone else been in the car, I wouldn't have been quite so.... something...enjoyed, maybe...
As I listened, I realized something about myself that I used to know but had forgotten: I drink in sound. Maybe it was because I had just spent a couple of hours,or three, at the mall with my mom where it was noisy and busy and all the things I don't enjoy much. All that "sound" irritated my soul after awhile. Il Divo, on these 5 or 6 pieces, doesn't irritate my soul at all. In fact, the music quenches the sound thirst I have. Rich harmony, layered instruments, little surprises.... I love that. A lot. There is someone I know who doesn't drink in sound like I do (not a bad thing at all), and has never quite understood when I say things like "Oh man! Can you hear that bassoon? What a great line," or, "I love how they have the flute layered in the middle of the chord." It's not that I'm a music snob; in fact, I'm less trained than most circus dogs. In music. Thankfully, those who do not "hear what I hear" love me enough to smile and nod and realize that I have my own drummer anyway... could be why I asked the question to begin with.