Honeycomb Tombs

I'm kicking off this week by talking about grief.  Cheery, no?

Actually, what I really want to do is tell you about the new album, Honeycomb Tombs, that my friend Karla Adolphe is releasing on May 15, 2012.

I've known Karla for close to a decade now, and can honestly say that she is one of the few musicians who consistently draws my heart into a place of connecting with Jesus in the places I need it most, each and every I hear her play live, or listen to her albums.  Because of that, I'm delighted to be telling you a little bit about her new album, Honeycomb Tombs, today.

The following text describing the purpose of this album comes from Karla's website:

About a year ago Karla was privileged to be at the hospital when a dear family said goodbye to their daughter. In the midst of that beautiful and heart-wrenching day Karla witnessed music play an important role in the early stages of grief.

The goal of this project is to create a FREE digital album that walks alongside those in the midst of grief; a collection of music, spaces, poetry and stories that can be played while you journal, take a drive, cry or nap.

Over the last two years, a number of my close friends have lost people dear to them - parents, children, friends.  I've watched other friends grieve as they faced major and unexpected life challenges.  I've done a great deal of that sort of grieving myself.

Last Thursday I sat on a bus with my journal, heading off to an evening engagement, and listened to a pre-release copy of Honeycomb Tombs for the first time.  It had been a day full of many harder life realities, and Karla's voice and lyrics spoke directly to my heart in that space.  I found myself feeling teary, ushered into a place of knowing again that Jesus sees me, that he knows me, even in the spaces where my heart aches the most.

I've listened to the album several more times since that first time through, and each time it has met me in deep heart places, and carried me to Jesus, to a place of listening and conversation, to a place of feeling the things I'd rather not, and also to a place of healing amidst those things.  As I've listened, I've thought about the friends who have faced deep grief over the past number of years, and wished this album had been available for me to share with them.

Since Karla shared her vision for this album, I've been excited to support it.  I'm even more excited to tell you that on May 15, 2012 you'll be able to download Honeycomb Tombs for FREE at www.karlaadolphe.ca! I hope you'll all take advantage of this album download, and use it for your own times of meeting with Jesus in the deep heart places, but particularly that you'll share it with those around you who are walking a journey of grieving.

If you're interested in reviewing Honeycomb Tombs, or learning more about the album, please feel free to email Karla.

And if you download the album on May 15th, make sure you come back and tell me what you think.  I'm pretty confident that it will move all of you just as much as it has touched my heart.

Some Thoughts on Grief, and a Project You Can Support

I haven't talked about it a lot here, because none of the stories are mine to tell, but I've been an observer of grief quite a lot over the last year.  Several friends lost parents to cancer, others have children who have been terminally ill, or who face lives that won't play out in an "american dream" kind of way.  On a personal level, I've walked through the process of grieving changes in living circumstances, relationships, and many other things.  These days it seems like every week brings news of a new death, or someone else who is battling for life, or facing dramatic changes in circumstance that must be grieved.  At times the onslaught of news has been overwhelming and left me struggling to process and understand the pain I was experiencing and that people I care deeply for are walking out.

All of these experiences combined made my heart leap when my friend Karla Adolphe sent out an email indicating that the next album she was planning to record was aiming to be a resource for those walking through the process of grief.  More than that, her desire is to have this album be a free resource - not an album for sale, but one that she can give away to those who are grieving.

I was with Karla at a worship gathering where she led recently, and was reminded all over again of the power of her voice, and the way Jesus uses it.  I'm so excited to see the way God will work through this new album, not only because of the topic, but because of Karla's unique ability to invite the hearts of her audience to connect with Jesus.

This is a clip of one of the songs that will be on the album, played publicly for the first time recently, at a concert in Colorado:



The exciting part about this project for me is the chance that we have to support it. Maybe you remember a year or so ago, when the Blue Like Jazz movie went viral with it's Kickstarter fundraising campaign? Well, Karla is doing something similar to raise funds for this album. You can go to THIS site to participate. I've borrowed the following, explaining just a bit more about the heart of the album, from the fundraising site:

About a year ago Karla was privileged to be at the hospital when a dear family said goodbye to their daughter. In the midst of that beautiful and heart-wrenching day Karla witnessed music play an important role in the early stages of grief.


The goal is to create a resource to help people through the process of grief, and because of this Karla will not recoup any of her $9800 budget with cd sales. The goal is to raise at least $7500 by April 1, 2012 to cover the costs of recording, producing, mixing and mastering and marketing the album.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the topic of grief, and I'd love to hear if you were able to support Karla in this project.  As always, leave me a comment!

CHECK OUT THE FUNDRAISING SITE HERE!

Past the mid-way point

I'm laying in bed in the home of my friend in California and pondering.

For the last hour, my friend Karla's "Chair and Microphone" album has been playing softly through my headphones.  Her music is the stuff I often turn to first in the moments when I need to think and pray and process life a bit.  My heart hears Jesus when she sings.

Sometime last night, or in the wee hours of this morning, drifting in and out of semi-restless sleep and dreams, I hit the realization that comes for me with every trip - the realization of being past the half-way point of this escape.  That the days remaining are growing fewer.  The realization that a return to the harder realities of day to day existence are coming, and soon.  That what comes next - the healing to come, the things to deal with, the waiting on school acceptance, the looking for a job, seem exhausting and overwhelming and sometimes even terrifying.

And really, I want to cocoon forever in the escape place (wherever it is, whichever vacation it is), full of laughter and hugs and friends who know all the messy stuff and want to hug on me and love me anyhow.  I think about the community around me at home and long for that place of openness to come.  I grow impatient with the reminder that there isn't history there yet, and that day to day life doesn't tend to hold room for the hours and hours of intense conversation that escapes have.

And so, I pause to consider the coming day, with Karla singing quietly in the background.  To ready my heart for the things it holds, but also to bask in it, to draw sweet memories and moments to hold to when the end of the escape comes and reality returns.  To have things to remind me of hope in the harder moments that are bound to come.  Because that was the point of escaping anyway - to get away from reality for a few days and rest and prepare for the coming of new realities.

After I Feel the Sun on My Face

Whenever I'm walking on a warm spring day, thankful that winter seems to have receded, a lyric that my friend Karla penned tends to come back to me, especially if it's been a particularly rough season of time.

Karla wrote, "And after I feel the sun on my face/ my soul, it will sprout again/ and I might become a tangled mess of love and fear and faith..."

I think of that line, and pray for sprouting.

I think of that line and remember a moment overseas, walking with a friend, when that lyric first hit me.  When I felt that stirring of growth within me, seemingly out of season.

I was thinking of both of those things today as I walked to get lunch and felt the sun on my face, restoring my exhausted body and soul.

I was thinking of how many things changed after that moment overseas, and how it seemed for a season that all growth had been snuffed out.

That there was only death and cold and winter.

I'm feeling the stirrings of growth within me again these days.

It's both a welcome and familar, and totally uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling.

I was reflecting that it seems to have been a long process of germination, these years of time between those first stirrings and now.  And how now I don't expect a sudden growth or sprouting, but more of a slow thing.  I believe that the sudden sprouting can and may happen, but I don't think I invest myself fully in expecting that anymore.

And maybe that's okay too.

Maybe that, too, is growth.

In any case, as exhausted as I am.  As challenging as some facets of life remain, I feel that stirring of growth.

And I welcome it.

Holding Onto You

I'm thinking tonight about a lyric my friend Karla Adolphe penned...

My heart is praying these words tonight, for myself and some dear friends... and hearing in the last few lines a quieting response from Jesus...

Holding Onto You

I see a million broken pieces on the floor
I can't believe you'd like to add one more
Meet me where I'm living, meet me where I am
All the stars have melted from my eyes
Only you know how many tears I've cried
Meet me where I'm living, meet me where I am
Holding onto you,
I'm holding onto you,
I'm holding onto you right now

Hush little baby don't say a word
Daddy's coming to get his little girl
Hush little baby, don't do a thing
Daddy's coming he's going to fix everything...

(to buy the song, click here, and scroll to the album "The Cathedral" to find the song)

Lyrical Encouragement

There are many things I need to share at some point about the new route I drive on my morning commute. The number of things along the route that are deeply heart-stretching is really quite astounding.

In the meantime, this morning, as with several other mornings recently, I was listening to music by my friend Karla Adolphe (see also Jacob & Lily and Chair & Microphone Vol. 3 from Enter the Worship Circle). Some of her lyrics struck me deeply again, bringing encouragement to a tired heart:

These, from her first album "Come Home" from the song "Jude":

Somebody come and rescue me
from this desert that I am walking
Look in my heart, and do you see
this little girl, and baby is she talking?
Is she tired?
Is she worn?
Is she broken?
and is she torn?

But You lift me up again
Lift me up again
And You lift me up again

And then, these lyrics from "Chair and Microphone Vol. 3" the song "You are Mine"

Maybe I don't have the strength
Maybe I don't have the faith
You brought me here in forty years
When I know this trip should take a week
I've shed my tears and shed my blood
been out ran some by the flood
and winter steals my songs away
in all of this I've come undone

When you walk through the water
I will be with you
When you pass through the river
those waves they will not overtake you, and
when you walk on the fire
those flames they will not touch you
You are mine
You are mine

I've been a child
I've been a slave
I've grown bitter and learned to pray
I've packed my bags and started back
the cost is just too high to pay

When you walk through the water
I will be with you
When you pass through the river
the waves, they will not overtake you
When you walk on the fire
those flames, they will not touch you
You are mine
You are mine.

Where credit is due...

My first thought upon waking this morning was "Thank you God." It's a nice first thought to have.

After several very restless, pain filled, and mostly sleepless nights, I was praying prayers of desperation as I fell asleep last night, knowing my body (and by extension my mind and emotions) badly needed the restorative nature of a full night of sleep. I have to say that I don't always stop to give credit where credit is due, and that sometimes I wonder if God really cares about all the petty little things we pray about, but this morning, on waking, all I could think was "Thank you." Because there was no reason other than the blessing of a caring Father that I should have slept.

I read the following passage from Philippians 4 just before I went to bed last night, and found it's simplicity in the call to prayer and peace encouraging:

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.
(Philippians 4:6-7 NLT)

"Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God's peace." How very simple and non-formulaic. And yet, last night, I know without doubt that God heard my request (as well as some prayers of thanksgiving) and offered peace and rest in the form of a full night's sleep.

And it really has helped with perspective. For the first time all week I'm feeling physically much better - not nauseaous, and mostly pain free. And emotionally stable, instead of strung out, hormonal, and wondering what sort of wild ride through the stuff of life the day will bring.

I listened to the first album my friend Karla Adolphe recorded as I drove to work this morning. Her lyrics (particularly the song "Jude") also touched raw places in me and brought peace.

And now, now I'm at the office, and preparing to start the day. I'm wearing jeans - which is always a good thing. I'm off to make tea and toast with peanut butter (I'm in one of those odd phases my body hits where I crave protein.) I have a plan for the day (well, mostly for the after work portion of the day, since work is nearly always completely unpredictable), and I know how I'm going to execute the plan. That, I have to say, also adds to my sense of peace.

Friday morning...

In no particular order, these are the things coloring my thoughts and day thus far:

• I will be preparing a sympathy card today. A drowning here in Southern Alberta is unfortunately again intimately connected to the company I work for.
• The sound of raindrops hitting my office window is both sad, and oddly comforting after a week in which so many things went on.
• There was snow falling at my house when I left it.
• A little boy I've been praying for has been released from hospital to continue his recovery at home.
• There was an envelope in our mailbox with a lease for prospective tenants in it. This excites me because it means we won't have to endure future showings of our house.
• A reminder from a dear friend that it really is okay to find joy.
• Another odd dream has left me watchful. I'm beginning to suspect transition is upon me yet again.
• As I drove to work this morning, I played some songs from Jacob and Lily's "The Cathedral" album and a preview of recordings to come. Karla's voice singing "Child of the King" flowed over me as I played the song on repeat, sometimes singing along. "Hallelujah, I'm a child of the King..."

My heart is quieter today. Feeling the deeply bittersweet nature of some things around me. Slowly tasting life, in all of it's flavors and strains. I'm still feeling stretched, distracted, discombobulated, but I'm also feeling peaceful.

It's Friday. The weekend is nearly here.

2001 (A Thursday Morning Mish-Mash)

(This is my 2001st blog post! How crazy is that? I've been doing this for quite a while now I guess...)

I'm glad it's Thursday, because that means it's almost the weekend. And this weekend, my house is going to be empty - just me! And that is absolutely one of the most exciting things I can think of right now. I'm so looking forward to the quiet and the space. I love my roommates, but I'm expecting the next month to be a bit wild, and the few days quiet break will be a nice relief before the full-on craziness of moving and final wedding preparations kicks into full gear.

Our landlord is showing our house at 8 tonight. Which means that after work we need to do a bit of tidying. And, that at just before 8, we need to clear out for 20-30 minutes or so. Which, quite frankly is a bit inconvenient, but, I think I'll go get a strawberry lemonade, or an iced passion tea lemonade at Starbucks, and that will redeem the inconvenience. And, hopefully, the people will fall in love with the house, and the landlord will like the people, and this will be the only showing we'll have to endure.

I'm listening to Karla Adolphe's various solo albums, and her Jacob and Lily album again lately. I love Karla's voice, and feel privileged to call her a friend. I also love her lyrics - they seem to speak so deeply to the places in my soul that long to be drawn out.

I'm thinking a lot about the providence of God right now. There'll likely be a blog post on that topic coming soon.

I had a dream about shoes, and wearing shoes that weren't mine and changing shoes, and knowing this would be the last time I'd wear certain shoes last night. It was a rather striking dream.

They're forecasting a mixture of snow and rain for Sunday. Snow. In June. (yes, I've lived here all my life. And yes, I know it can snow in literally any month.) Seriously. It's supposed to be 23 degrees today, and by Sunday we're possibly expecting snow. How gross is that? On the other hand, I can quite nicely blame my dad - everytime he goes to Africa, the weather gets ugly. (Of course, he usually goes in January...)

My heart remains somewhat discombobulated, listening, praying, waiting. The dreams are frequent still. And many I care about are facing challenges this week. So I'm listening and praying and waiting, and feeling just a bit tired and discombobulated in the midst of that.

And now, now I'm off to make toast for breakfast, and kick start what promises to be a very full day.

Here's hoping for beautiful things, new seasons, joy, hope and life to be the things we each encounter today!

Hold me near..

My friend Karla Adolphe penned these lyrics to a song simply titled "Hold Me Near" which appears on the album I mentioned earlier today "Enter the Worship Circle: Chair and Microphone Volume 3". Tonight, though, as I sit in my bedroom, curled up, exhausted, and crying, with Karla's voice singing over my stereo, they are something more. They are the prayer and cry of my heart.

Hold me near
when I am restless
Hold me near
when I am bitter
Hold me near
when I'm rebellious
Hold me near
until the end

Hold me near
when my heart is broken
Hold me near
when I'm ignorant
Hold me near
when I am jealous
Hold me near
until the end

But as for me
my feet almost gave out
I nearly sold my heart
It's good to be
held by my father
It's good to be
where you are