When You Have More Questions Than Answers

I'm not sure how I begin this story. But it feels important to share now, while it is fresh, still unwritten, before the editor/safe/practical side of me gets a hold of it and I start to limit its possibilities, to add caution to the extremities. So here it is in all its unrefined glory. Operation Border Patrol.

Lately, my heart has been wrecked by the pictures and articles of the immigration crisis at the border of Mexico and the US. That we live in a world where living conditions and poverty cause a family to consider sending their children into the unknown as the better alternative to where they are. There are thousands of children that have survived the odds of extreme and dangerous travel conditions to end up in detainment facilities.....

Sunday night as I was driving home from Shrek rehearsal, I spent the hour long drive praying. For the numerous friends I have overseas, for people here, and for the children and families at the border.  I even at one point asked God, "What is it you want me to do?....Drive to the border?" His answer was simply, "Well, you could physically drive to the border, it's within your ability to do that." My response was, "That's ridiculous, that's not even realistic." I got home, went to bed, end of story.

Fast forward to Monday afternoon and I get this random email from the Peace and Justice Studies Association Conference saying that my proposal for a presentation has been accepted for the 2014 event to be held in San Diego Oct 16-18.  WHAT!?!??! (as a sidenote: I found that conference in a random google search one night and used it as an exercise of how to put a proposal together on things I am passionate about: music, ministry of presence, living a life of hope.....NEVER thinking they would take it seriously, and certainly never thinking it would be accepted.)  And so less than 24 hours after I argued with God about my ability to drive to the border, here is an invitation to speak in San Diego....very close to the border.

Since then, I can't stop thinking about house concerting/church leading my way out to San Diego by route of Indiana, Colorado, etc., ending up in San Diego for the conference, and then making my way back along some of the Mexico/US border visiting ministries that are working with immigration issues and seeing firsthand what is going on.  I think I'm supposed to bear witness and tell the stories.........

So there it is.  We are only 72 hours beyond that Sunday night prayer drive and I am seriously considering spending the fall traveling the United States to sing, speak, and witness.  That sounds CRAZY to me. But it also sounds like something that I can't do on my own. So Spirit lead on, I'll try to keep up.

I'm not sure what the next steps are....the seed has been planted and I have already been encouraged by friends who are considering being a part of the journey. Like literally riding in the car with me.  Or knowing someone who may be a potential host or church or..... I don't even know. Stay tuned folks. Things are about to get interesting.

Shrek the Musical

As I sat in the Massapanox High School's drama room on a steamy night in early June, I had the strongest sense of time traveling back to high school circa the early 00's. Except all the faces were new and this director seemed 100% less likely to throw things (like chairs and chalk) and become red faced from screaming..... so a safe and calm blast from the past.

It has been almost accidental that I've become involved in Community Theatre here in the Fredericksburg area... but with evenings free and the desire to meet other creative people...somehow the auditions and performance schedules have lined up and the commitment of a month or two has been short enough to fit in the midst of current traveling and gigging. I was a part of Stage Door's One Act Festival back in April and enjoyed being around creative folks with a passion for the Arts.

And so here we are in the midst of Shrek rehearsals. I feel delighted, challenged, and extremely rusty. Drama was just about all I did in high school with three major productions a year, numerous competitions, and participating in a highly competitive critics program (think Tonys at the high school level). But it's been more than a decade now.... and I adore how much this is stretching me, reminding me what it is to be silly and over the top.

I am playing the chubby character of Tweedle Dee (not to be confused with Tweedle Dum of which there is not one in this show :o). As one of the numerous fairy tale characters, I get repeatedly kicked out of places, first the land of Duloc, then the swamp.... it's a rough life we lead. I will also be one of the 3 Blind Mice, a figment of Donkey's imagination in the song, "Make a Move".

Shows are July 23, 24, 25, and 26 at 7pm and a matinee on the 26 at 2pm..... at Massaponax High School (8201 Jefferson Davis Highway, Fredericksburg, VA 22407). Come see the green ogre, the donkey, fiona, pinochio, and the jersey witch.... it is fantastically fun. AND this cast has some pretty amazing people in it.  

New Ukulele Ditty: I'm Over It

I am not a fan of camping. Well, I didn't actually know I wasn't a fan because I haven't done it very much. But while sleeping in a tent by a train track with 4,000 strangers IN the rain, I discovered that I don't like it very much..... I wrote this song to express my feelings...enjoy.

4th of July, Hipster Living, and Crystal Visits

Somehow, in some brilliant act of sorcery....or in the lingering effects of Hurricane Arthur, the normally awful humid and unbearably hot weather of Colonial Beach took a break over the July 4th weekend and we enjoyed three days of breezy, balmy beauty.  Perfect for sitting outside and wandering around town. July 4th is my favorite holiday. It also happens to be my dad's birthday. There are parties, cakes, fireworks.... what is. not to. love? We tend to invite friends and family to the Cox/Nilson compound, content to spend the day eating BBQ and catching up.  This year, I ACTUALLY had local friends to invite.... that sounds lame...but most years I'm merely visiting from whatever place my vagabond travels have led me. This year, Colonial Beach is where I call home, and apparently I've been here long enough to make friends from trivia nights, community theater, and other such awesomeness.  My good friend Lorrie-Anne made the trip down from Northern Virginia as well!!!

And joy of all joys, Colorado friend, Crystal came for the weekend!! The last time I saw her was when she was dancing the afternoon away at her own wedding.  I had flown out to Colorado, acquired a tooth infection, and was high on vicodin. That was two years ago!! She and the hubby recently moved to North Carolina with the army and so it was an easy jaunt up I-95 for her (well....easy after she found her keys she left at the gym and after she got lost in the Raleigh area!)

Crystal and I had many an adventure during our year as friends....we went to Salt Lake City, Bishop's Castle, and Frozen Dead Guy Days, among others.  She is one of the most laid back traveling companions I have found; a quieter (well, than me!), encouraging soul. We actually met at New Life Church, attending a church orientation night. I plopped down next to her, asked her name, and then promptly asked her to be my friend.... apparently this is a trend of mine!!

We spent Saturday morning as hipsters; eating chicken and waffles at Foode, coffee from Hyperion, strolling the Fredericksburg Farmer's Market, and making our way along the Sunken Road....part of the Fredericksburg Battlefield, circa the Civil War.  I am always amazed by how these places of such bloodshed and destruction, stand so peacefully in memorial.  We stopped at the statue of the Angel of Marye's Heights, which celebrates the legend of a confederate soldier who when he could no longer stand the mindless slaughter of the oncoming Union soldiers, moved about the wounded in the field, offering water to those laying in the sun.

In the midst of such gorgeous, mild weather, I saw once again how beautiful Colonial Beach is.  It's hard to remember when the sweat is dripping and the bugs are swarming. But we were able to take Crystal for a leisurely golf cart ride around town, and after dinner, we watched the sunset over Monroe Bay before heading down to the Tiki Bar at Dockside for drinks, fireworks over the river, and a slightly bad cover band.....country boys singing rap.... no good for anyone.

It takes a long time to become old friends.... I am thankful for a few days with Crystal, to catch up and be at ease with one another. Mitch is the only one who was unhappy with the situation. He loved a bed thrown together on the floor of the shed....until Crystal got in it. I woke up to one very unhappy kitty in the morning, tucked in close to my face. Oh well, by the time she left....he may have almost liked her. :o)

Two Weeks and Three Days

*****I was cutting watermelon the night my grandfather died. I quickly set the knife down on the counter and met most of my family in the hallway as Nana let out wails of grief.  I stayed close to her side as the hospice worker and later the funeral employees came for his body.  When I finally made it back to the watermelon, it was still half uncut, its juices spread across the countertop and dripping on the floor. It's strange the images that stay with a person.  I found this post below that I wrote only a couple of weeks after Bubba passed away last summer. I kept it private because it felt too raw, too transparent, too real in the moment. These words are a snapshot into my own grieving. It's been exactly one year and we have lived many firsts; the first thanksgiving, the first christmas, new years, anniversaries... we talk about Bubba often. His things, his presence still permeate this house. Today will be hard, but that's what loving someone does to you....*****

July 24, 2013

I don't pretend to know very much about grief. I have been to more funerals on staff at Saint Joseph, than I had ever attended before....My first open casket was day four on the job...

Last week everything seemed a little foggy. I was forgetful, thinking I had done things, forgetting other things....taking lots of time to rest. I kept my apartment dimly lit and spent hours watching episodes of the old CW show, Roswell. It seemed the little reminders were everywhere. I unpacked shoes to find grass from the cemetery still stuck to the heel. The shell casing for the 21 gun salute was still clanking around in my purse.

And this week things seemed better. I had friends over on Sunday night so I wasn't by myself as the two week mark came slightly after 9pm. I've turned more lights on, moved a little more clearly. And then I got to Bible study tonight.

Tina was looking for a debate. She was raised in a church, but there's a hardness to her... spiritually speaking. She had a habit of leaning all the way back in her chair, speaking softly, but always with a argumentative edge. "Why do we talk so much about the resurrection?" she asked, "Why not about the other stuff Jesus did?"

Later she asked if anyone had seen miracles. We talked around it for a while and then I spoke up,

"I have this relationship with Christ that the deeper I get to know him... the more I see him working. I went home two weeks ago for a normal vacation and my grandfather passed away, he had been ill for some time. You might say that because he died we didn't get our miracle, but I would say that God led us to all be together for that time, to cry together and to bury my grandfather together. You can't tell me that's not a miracle. And I know that God works intimately in my life and because of that, I see miracles all the time."

I sat back as my words lingered in the air. My heart was pounding and my breath became short and I felt tears threatening to form. It was like all the emotion of my soul had been vomited out on the carpet and I didn't even know it was about to come up.

I am thankful for that little community who thanked me for sharing, who spoke a few more thoughts and then Tina nonchalantly asked Aaron if he would pray so she could go home.

I walked the sidewalk back to my apartment only a few buildings down and spent the late evening cooking, my hands and mind and heart needing the busyness, the distraction.

Wild Goose Festival 2014

It was 3:51pm on Thursday when Jess and I pulled up to Hot Springs, NC and checked in for Wild Goose Festival 2014. With only nine minutes before the campground was closed to cars, we haphazardly threw our stuff on a patch of empty, flat, wooded ground before I took off to park the car.Camping is unique at Wild Goose. There are several thousand people camping in the midst of performances stages, tents, and vendors. It is one big conglomerate beautiful mess of people and temporary structures. It didn't take long for our simple campsite to take shape. And it certainly didn't take long for a daddy long legs to take up residence on the top of our tent.... I named him Larry.

We quickly settled in, meeting our "neighbors", mainly the guys who had set up in front of us closer to the main road through camp. Paul, Barclay, and Howard, from Kansas City, who work with a child sponsorship program called Unbound. They easily shifted through hard questions of ministry and life to laughing and sharing stories. Their supply of instant coffee was a blessing in and of itself (HOW DID I NOT THINK THROUGH THE COFFEE SITUATION?!???!) and we often found ourselves comfortably perched under their pop up canopy enjoying conversation and music. By Friday we had met Bob, a Lutheran pastor from central Pennsylvania who occupied the next tent over....our cluster of tents became an instant little family.

Both of my "sets" were Friday, which didn't leave much concentration to sit through talks. Having found an electrical outlet by the bathrooms, I made many a friend as I curled my hair or pinned it up, valid attempts at battling the sweat, humidity, and heat. Good times. One morning when the dampness in my hair caused some steam, a little boy yelled, "Your hair is on fire!".... I became a source of entertainment. :o)

I played the singer-songwriter showcase first, at the Iron Horse Station, a restaurant right outside of the camp. It was a bit odd, as I was more background noise while people ate their lunches, but still good to share. My second set was at the Chapel, a tent located near the river, being curated by the Forum for Theological Exploration. I shared my stories and songs and in the middle, we celebrated the Eucharist,(Communion) before I sang some more. My four dear and precious neighbors came and it felt like my own family had shown up to support... oh the little things!!

The remainder of our time at Wild Goose involved a LOT of rain, little sleep, fear of train derailment behind our tent, random conversations, ukulele ditties, and the occasional secondhand recreational drug. I knew I had reached my end point when I was sitting beneath the canopy, trying to keep my guitar dry, and yelling "I HATE CAMPING!!!" Poor Bob, he was around me at several low points throughout the day.... :o) The good news is that if you are awake at 5:45 am... the water at the showers is incredibly hot! My 20 year old self was very excited to see Jars of Clay play Saturday night.... but it turns out they have done several albums since I last listened to them.... didn't stop me from yelling every word of "Flood" when they eventually got around to playing it!!

It's strange, but as beautiful as the gathering of Wild Goose is, I feel like I missed something. Maybe it was the overuse of the words "broken" or "inclusive" or maybe it is as simple as many of the topics didn't speak to where I personally am today. Jesus didn't come up very much, but words like "creator" and "divine presence" did. I may be one of the only ones who experienced some slight disconnect, but I celebrate my new friends who found a place where their hearts were met and heard.

And speaking of friends..... YOBEL MARKET was there!!! These ladies are so dear to me, remnants of the Colorado Springs community that I still love so dearly. We spent much of Saturday afternoon catching up on their ministry plans, on my singer-songwriting, on life, love, and everything in between!!

Many, many thanks to my friend Jessica Becker. For traveling out to Virginia, making the drive down to the mountains, to existing in a tent eating only hummus, hard boiled eggs, and watermelon until we finally had a chance for a full meal Saturday night (high five!). I am thankful for your courageous and adventurous spirit.

And I may or may not have met a kindred heart in the deep soul searching eyes of Barclay Martin, our neighbor and singer-songwriter from Kansas City, who has a kind and generous spirit and a contagious laugh. He's on his way to Madagascar.... one of those world saving musicians..... good looking to boot.

That wraps up our Goose adventure in North Carolina. I'm excited to be venturing into the world of vlogs.... learning about video editing and the like. We did stay in a haunted hotel on our way back to Virginia Sunday night..... that video will be coming early next week....

On My Way to Wild Goose 2014!

Today my car is all loaded up with sleeping bags, food, camping gear, smore supplies, and my dear Indianian friend Jess, as we head down to Wild Goose Festival in the mountains of North Carolina.  I am so excited to not only be attending my first Goose experience, but also to have the chance to be a contributing artist and to share these stories and songs that brought Coming Home to You to life.

Wild Goose Festival describes itself as "a community gathered at the intersection of justice, spirituality, music and art." There are artists and speakers and passionate people from all over who will be gathering in Hot Springs, NC (outside of Asheville), to share and learn and be in conversation with one another.  And armed with more than 20 chocolate bars and a few bags of marshmallows, I aim to become friends with a few of them.... :o)

Both of my performance times are on Friday, June 27. I'll be at the Iron Horse at 2:15, and then at the Chapel at 6pm.  The Chapel is being curated by the Forum for Theological Exploration and after just a quick chat with Kim, the curator, I am thrilled to be working with them, providing a time for communion in the midst of story and song.

We'll be off the grid for the most part over the next few days....If you haven't heard from me by Tuesday, then it's safe to assume I've been mauled by a bear, fallen into a fire, or floated downriver and can't find my way back.  OR that haunted hotel Jess booked us in Richmond, VA on Sunday night did us in.....(think Edgar Allen Poe) Regardless, there is guaranteed to be a story or two.... I can't wait!

Aunt Lena and Kentucky

All the frustration of the past several months with Tiv's guitar restoration....all the phone calls and in store visits and questions and roundabout answers.... were worth it in the moment that I settled the old gibson in his sister's lap and she played bluegrass tune after bluegrass tune after telling us her "fingers wouldn't be able to do much strumming."

There is something captivating about this group of 8 siblings that make up the collection of great aunts and uncles on my dad's side of the family. They grew up in the holler of Dry Fork, Virginia, with corn fields that went straight up the mountainside behind the house, in the 1920's and 30's when money was scarce and life was tough.  They are strong and hearty folk, who love deeply and smile often.... life is simple: be loyal to family, work hard, and always have plenty of food on table cause you never know who might be stopping by.

Because my Great Aunt Lena lives in Kentucky, I have not had much chance to spend time with her outside of the occasional family reunion years ago.  It made the day and a half my dad and I spent in her little 1960's bungalow extra special. She is a spry, elderly woman, who may complain of aches and pains, but then promptly tucks her house slippered feet under her as she sits back in the recliner to tell yet another story. Who may say she doesn't do much cooking, but when meal time comes there's a full spread of biscuits, eggs, gravy....... :o)

We spent much of the day talking about old family stories.  Lena knew Tivis the best as they were the two oldest in the family.  Tiv spent a lot of time keeping Lena away from the neighborhood boys, and they used to play music together and get invited to all the parties in the area to provide the entertainment.  She was quieter when she shared stories of Tiv, more reflective with a gentle tone.  As much as I love the stories of Tiv showing up with a shotgun and demands, there was a gentle and loving side to him.  There is such a tension there....holding on to Tiv's goodness while not denying the hardness.... there is much to be uncovered.

And how delightful to spend time with my (2nd?) cousins Alice and Tony.  Alice spent most of the day with us, and was far from the shy and quiet personality my dad remembered. :o) Tony gave us a quick driving tour around the Cincinnati area, taking us to an overlook where we stood four feet from a docile raccoon and to ride across the river on a ferry that took both us and the car.... before we headed to a family-style dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits..... we ate a lot of food in our short time in Kentucky!

My favorite story of Aunt Lena's was when she herself was a young girl.  Two friends, who were pretty well off (in her words, "They never wanted for anything and every summer they would have new white sandals"), invited her to go to the movies.  A taxi ride into town cost a quarter, the movie cost another quarter, then the ride back an additional quarter.  Lena told the girls she didn't have any money, but with their continual prompting she finally went in to ask her mother for a dollar.  Lena's mother told her to take the $2 bill (the only money in the house at the time) from the jar and bring back the change.  Lena went to the movies with her friends and afterwards, these friendly girls claimed to be out of money for the taxi ride back.  Lena knew they were trying to wiggle her remaining dollar out of her, but having promised her mother to bring back the extra change, Lena refused to pay for the ride back. She looked at those girls and said, "Well, if you ain't got the money for the taxi, I guess we will all have to walk back."  And the girls walked the five miles back to Dry Fork. Lena got home after dark with tired and blistered feet. When her mother asked what happened and Lena shared, her mother told her she was "right proud of her, for showing those girls what was what."

I am so thankful for the time we were able to spend in Kentucky with Aunt Lena and her kids.  I'm hoping to get back to see her later this summer.... maybe with more questions about Tiv, but certainly to eat some more biscuits and play guitar.... :o)