The floor of my car is covered in gravel, so I went to the carwash to take care of it.  Here's how it went down:

 

1.  Went through the carwash

 

2.  Pulled out of the carwash and up to one of those automated vacuum machines

 

3.  It was out of order

 

4.  Pulled up to another vacuum machine

 

5.  S.......L......O......W.....L.....Y  put in my 75 cents like the machine told me to.

 

6.  Vacuumed for 5 minutes til the machine ran out.

 

7.  L...E....S...S.......S....L...O....W....L.....Y.........T.....H....A...N.......B...E...F....O...R...E , I put in 75 cents for round 2, and sure enough....

 

8.  It wouldn't work

 

9.  Pounded the machine once (ok 6 times)

 

10.  Said "rats"

 

11.  Walked across the giant parking lot to get change

 

12.  Change machine wouldn't take my dollar

 

13.  said "RATS"

 

14.  Stood for at least one minute smoothing out my dollar

 

15.   Attempted change machine again

 

16.  It wouldn't take it

 

17.  said "crap"

 

18.  Tried to shove in the dollar roughly just because I was starting to get annoyed, even though I knew it wouldn't go in

 

19.   Spent another minute smoothing my now very wrinkled dollar (it wasn't worth the aggression)

 

19.  Machine took dollar that time (or was it?.....)

 

20.  Walked back to my car, and drove to another vacuum machine, just to make sure

 

21.  It was out of order

 

22.  Said "crap"

 

23.  Drove to another machine, got out and realized:  it was a wet/dry-vac which charged twice the price as the dry vac

 

24.  Laughed

 

25.  Got back in my car, drove to another machine, in the meantime noticed that a state trooper had pulled up to the vacuum which had eaten my 75 cents

 

26.  It worked fine for him

 

27.  Slapped my forehead

 

28.  Got out of my car, put my quarters in the new machine....S.....L.....O.....W.....L.....Y

 

29.  Opened the passenger door to lean in and begin vacuuming

 

30  SMACKED my head on the car.

 

31  YELLED   "CRAAAAAAAAP"

 

32   Vacuumed out the rest of the car (which took all of 20 seconds)

 

33.  Walked back around to the driver's side, and noticed that the overhang deal at the carwash had been dripping water on to my freshly washed side-windows

 

34.  Got a napkin and wiped off the window

 

35.  Got in the car, started it, and just as I was pulling out, a stream of drips from the overhang drips on to my front windows

 

36.  Slapped the steering wheel and began laughing maniacly.

 

37.  Looked down, to see that my shoes had tracked in more rocks

 

38..  Looked up at the State Trooper parked 2 machines over, and thought....

 

39.  I'm going to floor this thing and ram his vacuum machine while he's putting in his quarters.

 

40.  Kept the thought in my head and drove next door to Kwik Shop to buy hohos.

 

41.  Get home and...I KID YOU NOT....find a coupon for half off a car wash at that very carwash!!!!!!!!!

 

42.  Wonder how I can get the State Trooper's address, so I can send the coupon to him

 

 

 

 

I heard two really really good songs today.  After listening to each one of them only a few times, I was singing them all day.  Then, as I introduced them tonight at worship team practice, it only took a couple of passes before my team had them down. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Making me feel jealous, and self-pitying, and defeated.

 

 

 

 

 

We had dentist appointments last week.  Sarah walked out and said:  "I don't have any cabidies."

 

She's not all grown up after all!

 

 

 

 

I met Florence today.  I led music at her funeral.

 

It was a simple and sweet funeral.  Pastor Jim shared about her faith.  Her family shared of her love for her Norwegian heritage, her love of music, and her willingness to make room at her table for anybody.  She liked a good strong cup of coffee, and singing Hank Williams songs.  She quilted, baked, and never stopped learning.  She taught herself how to use the computer, so she could research her geneology.  When many of the older records were in Norwegian, she taught herself Norwegian so she could read them.   There were even a few odd stories told, like that she horded washcloths.  They found hundreds of them after she died.

 

Nobody told heroic tales of unmatched feats of bravery, or fabulous beauty and success.  They were all stories which, after having a few details tweaked, may be told about many of us at our funerals some day.  Ordinary stories of baking pies with her granddaughter, and welcoming her son's friends over during college breaks were the substance of the remembrance time today. 

 

And yet, I was moved.  That's the stuff that matters.  All that mundane, humble, daily stuff  changes the world. God uses people like Florence.  Baking pies with your granddaughter changes the world.  Love changes the world.

 

There will be a few who are called to more.  If I am one of those, praise God.  If I am not, then may I have the humility to see the value in baking pies and making room for others at my table. (ok...maybe not baking pies..my story will be tweaked to say things like:  chalk drawings on the driveway, or taping up our faces with scotch tape so that we look like pigs and laughing in the mirror)  May I  praise God that I got to offer back what I have been given, as simple and small as it may be.

 

I am putting a request in, however, with anyone who will be at my funeral.  If I start hording something, like HoHo wrappers, or coffee cans, please do not mention it during sharing time.  Florence probably didn't mind, but I think I will.

 

 

 

 

   

Peter Cooper interviewed Tom T. Hall in the latest American Songwriter.  Cooper describes Tom T. Hall's writing this way:

 

 

1.  Write big ideas with little words

2.  Impart wisdom without preaching

3.  Relate tales without pronouncement

 

Three things I would love to see realised in my own writing. 

 

There is always more to learn!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I like the word bittersweet.  Two strong and opposite meanings marry to  produce a word which describes a unique and powerful emotion.   

 

I got an email the other day which brought back bittersweet memories.  I felt happy, sad, and a tinge of regret in one surge of emotion.  That state of mind held me captive for most of the day.   It felt very honest.  The longing in my heart that the email produced felt very Godward.  It produced a "someday" feeling in me...someday this will be reconciled.  Someday I will see the fruit of this.  Someday I'll not remember the bitter, and only know the sweet of this situation.

 

Bittersweet is one of those words that will cease to have meaning someday.  There will be no bitter in heaven.  There will be no longing for reconciliation or resolution between people.  There will be no conflict between flesh and spirit.  There will be no more wishing things could have turned out differently, or hoping things still may turn out differently.   Our hope will be fully realized. 

 

Until then, we wait, and depend on the gift that Christ gave to us to make it through this life.   By faith, we press on until the object of our faith is before us, and only the sweet remains. 

 

 

 

Usually, when my team plays on Sunday, I'm there between 6:30 and 7.  Practice starts at 8, but I like to get there and spend some time in prayer and the word before worship.  Also, if there are any snaffoos, like slides messed up, or broken equipment, I've got time to remedy the problems.

 

This morning, for the FIRST TIME IN 11 YEARS, I slept in until after 7.  I had no make-up on, no contacts in, and certainly no shower taken. 

 

Of course, this is the day when friends we haven't seen in five years decide to drop in and visit from Kansas City.  She sang on worship team with us back in the good old days,  and she's one of those gorgeous-put-together-casually-stunning-types  who, I must say, is very gracious and probably doesn't give a fig what I look like.  We went for coffee, and I wish I could say that I wasn't preoccupied with trying to remember if I even brushed my teeth while we caught up, but I cannot.  I know...it's shallow.   

 

I think it's pathetic the thoughts I sometimes have during a worship service.  Worrying what I look like is one of them.  Also, if we're not firing on all cylinders musically, I start wondering what the other musicians in the room are thinking.  If any of you have been in worship ministry, you probably have received your share of "suggestions" from people.  For the most part I pray a lot about being a good listener, being teachable, but also being able to shrug off the too-casually offered comments that are nothing but....well....hurtful. 

 

But when things don't go well in a set, my thoughts run to that big suggestion box in my brain.  I start thinking...oh X is probably bristling at that flub...or Y is going to make a point to let me know he caught that mistake this week.  It assumes the worst about people, and it distracts me from worshiping God.   

 

God is fully capable of glorifying Himself despite His people being plagued with their own vanity and pride.  He has great mercy.  He loves His children and desires for them to see Him.  He chooses to equip a few of us weird creative types to lead His children in worship, knowing full well we're riddled with weakness and selfishness.  He's good; so, may I rest in the honor and joy of worshiping Him, flubs, bedhead, bad breath, and all.  May I have the humility to bless others by listening, even when I haven't brushed my teeth.  May I be quick to encourage, instead of noticing flaws.   May I focus on the object of our worship, and not the mode or messengers. 

 

And may I get up next week on time, and at least get my teeth brushed.  I don't need to stink while I'm learning lessons on humility and true worship.

I want to take a moment to congratulate all the folks I know that have been nominated for a Dove award.   I think it's pretty cool that so many Write About Jesus clinicians are on the list.

 

A big shout  out to Joel Lindsey.  He is nominated for two Doves, but also, all of his writers have either been nominated for a Dove, or were part of a work that is nominated for a Dove.  When I talked to him a few days ago, he was so excited for his writers.  Even though I personally wasn't nominated, he went out of his way to tell me that he was proud of me and the success of Praise Rocks.  Thanks, Joel, for your investment in me, and for being so supportive.

 

To Gina , I say:  YAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!  You ROCK!!   And, I'm so grateful you let me be a part of such a great musical.  Plus, we had a BLAST writing that thing.  It's amazing to me that kids all over the country are praising God with something that we were a part of.  wow.  What a privilege. 

 

So, in honor of all of my co-writers and friends, I will eat a Dove chocolate bar for each nomination.   And then, I will up my cholesterol medication, and buy bigger clothes. 

Sarah doesn't say "Valentimes" anymore.   It started off as "Bouwentimes" and then morphed, for the better part of 4 years into "Valentimes." 

 

This year, we also pack suitcases instead of  "soupcases."  Valentimes and soupcases were the last two words that Sarah has mispronounced.  She's grown out of that phase of life.  Jenna finally corrected her on the soupcase thing last fall, and I was looking daggers at Jenna and doing that-talking-while-gritting-my-teeth-and-not-moving-my-lips-thing that we moms do when we want-to-reprimand-but-still-appear-to-others-as-composed-and-calm.  I wanted her to keep saying it forever.  Jenna wanted to stop being annoyed with her sister.  Jenna won. 

 

Sarah has found the right words, but I can't seem to find the right words to express how I feel when I look at my little girl who isn't so little anymore.  Panicked.  Grateful.  Proud.  Humbled.  Hopeful.  Sad.  Nostalgic.  Wistful.  Happy.  Empty.  Fulfilled.  Nope....still so much more I could say.

 

So, as a farewell to Sarah's little girl days, may I just wish you a: 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bart asked me 6 months ago what concert would be the one I would most like to see.   In the last two years, I've gotten to see most of my favorites (Nora Jones, U2, Coldplay, John Mayer, Nichole Nordeman...on..and on....), and so that was a tough question.

 

My answer was Michael Buble, Sting, or Harry Connick Jr.

 

He called me today.  Michael Buble  is coming to Omaha in April, and we will be there.   I might just let him win the next Name That Singer round for getting me those tickets....

 

Or maybe not.....

 

Your turn!  What are the top three concerts you'd like to see?

 

My kids are bored.  They want friends to come over.  They're lurking around their parents, vexing them,  trying to look woeful so we will take pity on them and invite a merry party of friends over to pass the hours. (I'm currently watching Pride and Prejudice on PBS...must use words like  "vexing" and "merry party.")

 

Yep.  They're feeling better.  Back to school.  Back to the routine.  Back to our simple, wonderful life...boring days and all!  Thank You God!

We're home.  The kids are home sick.  Looks like influenza has struck the Q household.  Bart and I are on preventative medication, as is Jenna...but we may have gotten her to the doc too late.  She started running a fever on the slopes on Tuesday, so we'll see if she's going to have to weather the worst part of the flu or not.

 

The 10 1/2 hour drive home yesterday wasn't too bad...thanks to Sirius Radio.  Bart and I have always passed the time during long car rides playing "Name That Singer. "  (The object, which can probably be gathered from the title, is to scream out, even if non-sensically, the name of the singer/band/duo singing the song on the radio.  The first one gets a point although since I usually smoke Bart we've stopped keeping score, ok, maybe he's beaten me, rarely, very rarely.)   Now, with Sirius radio, all we have to do is press the display button, and it tells you the song title and the singer!  WE HAD A BLAST.  When we stopped for gas, Jenna asked:  "Are you and Dad going to keep playing that game?"  I asked her why she wanted to know, and she said:  "Because...you guys are funny when you play that game...you laugh and scream at each other over dumb things." 

 

I went on to tell her that his love of r&b and disco music, combined with my love of 80's Brit-pop, and my VAST knowledge of 60's &70's rock made for some pretty funny moments.  The first time I named a Spinners song before Bart did, I thought he was going to crash the car.  He put his hands over his face in shame and yelled....that's one of MY songs!!!!!!  He got a  Dexy's Midnight Runners song that I should have gotten, and I writhed in agony as well. 

 

He never named a U2 song ahead of me, though.  I would rather have the flu than not win a U2 tune.  To his credit, he got every Temptationss and Earth Wind and Fire song.  I did steal a Stevie Wonder song from him.  I showed NO humility in that moment. 

 

When it came to the 50's and early 60's music, we had a few answers that covered every group. (other than the above mentioned Temptations)  We would either yell "Frankie Valley and the Four Seasons"  or "Martha and the Vandellas"  hoping one of those would cover.  Other than a few Fats Domino, Ray Charles, and Roy Orbison, we missed every song.  There was an all-Elvis station, and so we did manage to get a few of those...heh.

 

Sarah and Jenna both yelled out an Elliot song...that guy from American Idol a few years ago.  In that moment, I caught a glimpse of what a car ride in a few years could look like.  It's bad enough with two of us playing.  When the other two join in, we may not make it home.  Good times...Siriusly!....

Sarah's fever broke last night.  We let her ski today. 

 

She hated it.  She cried and screamed most of the way down the hill.  

 

Three of us had fun anyway.

 

But, Jenna has a fever now! 

 

I think it's time to go home!

 

 

Today at 4:30, the hotel sent up complimentary room service to Sarah and me. They sent chicken noodle soup, tea, ginger ale and some bread.  We had eaten a bagel and granola bar between the two of us the entire day, since we couldn't really leave the room.

 

I cried when it came.  The timing was so perfect.  The meal was so appropriate.  We're ten hours from home, and not feeling well, and I was blown away that someone cared enough to think about us.  I know someone downstairs was hired to do this kind of thing.  We're in a five star hotel (one of Bart's work conferences) and so they probably do this sort of thing all the time.   

 

But if you ask me,  this was a gift from Someone upstairs!

We've arrived.  Our hotel is at the base of the mountain.  The lift is yards from the hotel door.  The weather is gorgeous.  There is has been a light snow, and the mountains are stunning.

 

However, Sarah is running a high fever.  We've been here 24 hours, and she and I haven't left the room except to have dinner in the hotel...which we had to leave early from because she was feeling so awful.

 

Bart and Jenna set out today, and are having a great time.  For that I'm so glad, but my sad little Sarah needs your prayers.   We might venture out on  to the patio in a few hours, as they light fires and make s'mores for everyone after skiing.  That may be as close to the snow as we get!

 

Leaving for skiing tomorrow. 

 

First time the girls will be skiing, so yay for that!

 

I've skied for most of my life, but I haven't broke a sweat other than to try and beat my husband in Cow Racing in two years.

 

So, I'm pretty much planning on blowing out a knee while I'm there.

 

I used to be a snow bunny.  Now I'm more like a snow whale.

 

Hey...snow whales don't have knees...well there's something hopeful anyway.