My “novel”

Written by jamie on July 22nd, 2011

I continue to read through old journals in my quest to write “my story.” I am in the midst of my tour journals, which have actually been really fun to read. There are so many stories and details that I wrote down that I had completely forgotten. I keep laughing out loud at some of my stories about the kids, and I keep e-mailing my tour buddy so she can get a laugh out of them too. I told her this morning that it was weird to read through these journals. It’s like reading a novel where you already know the ending but have forgotten all the details.

I am currently approaching the part in the journal where I am asked to leave my first choir and go help start another choir. I remember that heart wrenching decision. I so did not want to leave my current children. The thought of walking away from them tore my heart out. But as I prayed through it, I realized how leaving was exactly what God wanted me to do. I was in the midst of a really awkward situation on my first choir that was not getting any better, despite any efforts on my part. It was taking a lot out of me. Even though I did not want to leave my kids, I was desperate for relief from the pressure of this situation.

Looking back, I am so glad I did go, because I was so abundantly blessed on my 2nd choir. I fell in love with this group of kids too, and had an amazing team of adults to work with. I was able to blossom and be so much more productive on this team. I came out of my shy little shell that I had been forced into on my last choir. I did my job as music supervisor so much more effectively. I am looking forward to reading through all the memories of this choir.

But before I can get there, I have to read through the pages of lamenting and crying I did over leaving my first choir. I have to relive the pain of walking away with tears streaming down my face and sobs wracking my body as some sweet stranger drove me to the airport. (She really was so sweet. I was crying so hard I couldn’t get a word out, and she just hugged me and told me she had only been with the kids for two days and had totally fallen for them. She said she couldn’t imagine leaving them after spending 15 months with them. She handed me a tissue box as we loaded luggage into her car.) That was a tough time. My stomach’s almost knotting up knowing I have to read through this.

What’s funny is that pages before, I wrote about reading Jeremiah 18:1-6.

1 This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the LORD: 2 “Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.” 3 So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. 4 But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.

5 Then the word of the LORD came to me. 6 He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?” declares the LORD. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.

A couple of years before that, I had gone to a special guest ministry at my church where a potter created a pot before all of us. He spun it on the wheel and created this beautiful creation. Then he crushed it. And made a new one, even better than the first. In my journal, I reflect back on this, and comment how I felt like that clay. Like God was smashing me and turning me into something more beautiful.

Little did I know how right I was.

 

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Hinge moments

Written by jamie on July 17th, 2011

I am re-reading Quitter by Jon Acuff. Tonight I read the section about “hinge” moments. Jon Acuff states that “A hinge moment occurs when you are planning to do something standard and normal… when seemingly out of nowhere, something… hinges you in a different direction.” Hinge moments are moments that spur you on toward your dream and passion. He urges readers to identify hinge moments in order to refine their dream.

I started thinking through hinge moments in my life. I thought of musical ones, where a good friend told me after a concert that I needed to sing louder because I had a really good voice. A couple I ran into when I stopped by church for some random something that told me they had been talking about me for weeks ever since I had performed my first solo at church. I thought of a “negative” hinge moment; where something not so great spurred me on toward where I am. Failing Organic Chemistry was not what I was hoping for, but it was the clue I needed that Biology was not the right major for me.

As I journaled through some of these moments, I thought of one that I had almost forgotten, but was a perfect example of a hinge moment. It happened years ago, in high school.

I was a math nerd. Or, maybe better yet, I posed as one. All of my good friends were math nerds, so I figured I needed to be one too. I joined Mu Alpha Theta, the after school math club. I couldn’t believe I was voluntarily doing math on my own time, but I was hanging out with people I liked, so it was cool. It was good for me. My math grade improved drastically after joining.

I watched all my math inclined friends and grew jealous of the trophies they acquired at each competition. Even my high school sweetheart was one of the highest scoring in the state, as the top of his trophy laden dresser evidenced. I watched each shiny prize descend the stage stairs in their hands, and I grew determined to get one myself. I was currently studying Geometry in school and I really enjoyed it. All the shapes and angles clicked in my brain. I set to learning everything I could about the subject and took practice test after practice test to perfect my knowledge. My friends cheered me on and encouraged me. That trophy was as good as mine.

State competition rolled around, and the Geometry test kicked my butt. I was awarded no trophy. I was crushed, but set my mind to the national competition later that year, determined yet again to get that well deserved trophy.

While preparing for the national tests, I found out that they were offering a new category: poetry. They were encouraging students to write some math related poetry and submit it to the competition. I enjoyed writing, and had dabbled in a bit of poetry. So I sat down and played around with all the geometric vocabulary I knew and threw it into a love poem dedicated to my high school sweetie. It took me all of 20 minutes. I submitted it, and quite honestly, didn’t think much more about it as I threw myself back into my Geometry prep.

National competition arrived, and all us hyper math students were at the first awards ceremony, waiting to hear the results of the first few tests. They gave away a few awards and then they announced the poetry contest. My friends grinned big at me. I shrugged, expecting nothing. The judges explained that they had picked two finalists out of all the entries. I knew for sure that I had no chance, so I began to tune the announcer out. Then I heard my name called. I looked up, confused, and realized all my friends were shouting my name and pushing me toward the stage.

I walked up, grinning and confused. Standing next to some gangly teenage boy (who had written the other winning poem), I blushed while they read my cheesy geometric love poem to an audience of three to four hundred math nerds. Then I walked off stage with my certificate and got my picture taken (still no trophy for me… just a copy of my poem on nice paper) while I was high-fived and hugged by all those around me.

Perhaps numbers weren’t my calling. Maybe words were.

 

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Memories

Written by jamie on July 12th, 2011

It’s funny to me what little things trigger random memories for me.

I took a walk this morning, my second walk this week. I’m doing good since it’s only Tuesday. I’m enjoying the “crisp” (albeit muggy) summer Florida mornings. I normally just take a walk around the block, I’m guessing a little less than a mile. I enjoy walking my neighborhood because of the many trees surrounding and the variety of houses in my subdivision. (I wrote about that here.)

Sometimes I get so used to doing things the usual way that I don’t usually stray from that. There is some comfort in normalcy, but sometimes I think I need to mix things up a bit, even in simple things like my walks. There are other roads and routes to explore, and I rarely seem to try. This morning I did.

There’s a park within a block of my house. It’s got a playground (perfect for visiting nephews), picnic tables, big fields, and a baseball diamond. I’ve explored it before, and shortly after moving in, Drew and I took a stroll down there one evening and enjoyed the swings. But other than that, I usually just walk right by it. This morning, I didn’t.

It was quiet this morning, as I guess most people aren’t running to go sliding or play baseball at 7 in the morning. Birds were chirping and crows were squawking. I walked by the quiet playground and onto the dewey grass. A quaint little bridge crosses over a waterless stream. Something that cute just beckons me, so I walked over it, right through a spider web. (And it struck me as I hit it… we get so annoyed by that, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor spider whose hard work had just been destroyed. But I digress…) I continued to walk through the field, over to a bunch of trees. There was a small trail that led through the trees, and things like that beckon me as well. I walked through the trees, destroyed more spiders’ hard work, and emerged on the other side facing the baseball diamond. I traipsed back up the field toward the playground and the exit.

There’s not much to the park and not much else to explore. But as I walked through the field and felt the dew seeping through my sneakers and getting my pant leg wet, for some reason I was taken back to tour. Now, it might simply be that my brain is tour oriented right now as I’m reading through old tour journals (AND I got a stack of letters from my kids yesterday! Yay!). But in that particular moment, I was taken back to my many morning walks I took while on tour. I stayed with diverse host families in various neighborhoods, and I would try to walk in as many as I could. New places to explore (and get lost). New sights and sounds. Early morning quiet. Peacefulness. It helped my crazy, frantic tour life to have a few moments where I could take some deep breaths.

It was kind of nice to reminisce on that.

 

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Tour life

Written by jamie on July 11th, 2011

I’m continuing to read through old journals for writing inspiration. I am currently in the midst of my many journals written during my time on tour with the African Children’s Choir. It’s fun to reminisce back to that time. There are some things I really miss about tour. And some things I really don’t.

What I miss about tour

– My kids. Getting 25 hugs is a great way to start your day.

– Comradeship with my fellow chaperones.

– Meeting really cool host families and getting the chance to see life really lived in different cities/states/countries.

– Cool and exciting opportunities, like recording with big name musicians and having the chance to appear on big shows like Jay Leno.

– Days off in new and (sometimes) exciting places. Always something new to explore.

– The feeling that I was doing something really big and truly making a difference in people’s lives.

What I DON’T miss about tour

– The constant feeling of exhaustion from being on the go all the time.

– Being “on” all the time. Fake, professional smile plastered across my face.

– Answering the same questions three to four times a week (“I decided to tour with the choir after seeing them perform at my church. I was really impacted by their ministry…”)

– Four different beds a week. And not all of them comfy.

– Life out of a suitcase. The same four shirts get old after six months.

 

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