Monthly Archives: November 2009

88. Broken

Posted on
25

This song will go down as one of my favorites of the year. Right up there with 40 More Falls and a few others. That’s ok to say, isn’t it? I mean, I’m not saying it’s a good song. I’m just saying I think it’s one of my not-so-bad ones. Let’s try again: This song isn’t nearly as crappy as most of the songs I’ve written this year. It sits on the “less-crappy list” right up there with 40 More Falls and a few others.

There. That’s better.

The song surprised me. It became more than I thought it would. I’ve wanted to write a song like this for a while – a song about the depravity of man – about the general brokenness of our souls – about how we’re all messed up in some way. All of us. Undeniably. It’s darker than I thought it would be, but dark enough to get the point across. Maybe this is an Ash Wednesday song. Maybe.

If I had time, I’d bring in a few other elements of sound to amp the pre-bridge section. Maybe I’ll put that on the to-do list for 2010.

Love to hear your thoughts:

(And if any of you are wondering: No, I haven’t finished a single song this week. I’ve been fighting a head cold that has left me stranded on the couch watching an entire season of Survivor. And I think that’s ok. My mind is resting, and I expect to bury these last 5 very soon. VERY soon.)

 

Holy Cow it’s Wednesday – WW 11.25.09

Posted on
15

(This has been one of those weeks where Monday felt like Tuesday. TODAY feels like Tuesday. But Tuesday did NOT feel like Tuesday. Go figure.)

Hi.

I don’t think there was an ending question last week.

So… I’ll just give the rules and we’ll get this party started – fashionably late! Answer the last, ask the next. Come back as often as you like.

Let’s start with this one: What did you think of Adam Lambert’s performance at the AMA’s?

A month of lasts

Posted on
10

Last night I went to my final “worship committee” meeting to plan Sunday’s service at our church. It’s the last one where I’ll lead worship.

We’ve already seen our last beautiful colorful breath-taking fall up here.

I’ve *probably* already attended my last Wives’ Small Group meeting – which started in my own 500 sq ft apartment 3 years ago.

When I went to the grocery store, I thought “I may not have to buy this again before we move.”

I hung out with one of my closest seminary friends on Saturday night – and I told myself that would NOT be the last time we hang out.

I know when my last day of work will be.

My last Tuesday of leading worship at our Seminary Chapel service will happen next week.

We’ve already got plans to spend a bit of time with a few of our favorite seminary couples. My calendar shows our last dinner date with them… Ugh.

And, then, there’s the going-away party, which we can’t skip………

The “lasts” are upon us.

So. Help me here. How do you handle moving and packing and stressing and goodbyes? What can I do to get through this?

When five feels like one hundred…

Posted on
33

I knew this day was coming, but I didn’t think it’d happen so soon.

In fact, I’ve done a number of things to prepare for it. And now, even though I’m way ahead of schedule. Even though I have a handful of half-written songs that I could pull from right now. And even though I have some song ideas in the back of my mind that I really believe in.

Even with all that, I’ve hit that place in 2009 where the mere thought of writing (what will likely be a really crappy song) makes me want to cry.

(And, let’s just be honest, everything makes me want to cry right now.)

My heart pounds at the thought of typing this: I don’t want to write.

I don’t want to. I don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t.

I think it’s the swirling spinning stormy combination of all the excitement in my life. blah blah I’m not complaining. I genuinely AM excited about life and what’s before us. I just need a nap. A nap that’ll last about 4 days, because, well, there’s a lot going on. (This is the part where I remind myself that “negative stress affects us in the same way that positive stress does.”)

I’ve got 5 songs staring me in the face. FIVE. And the 95 behind me are doing nothing to contribute to any creative momentum I once had…

The pen feels heavy.

My brain moves like molasses.

These 5 feel as impossible as the 100 I started with.

5 to go.

Piece of cake, right?