Miracle of Miracles

Christmas Eve

My blog has lain dormant for almost a month. I have been very busy. Now, here it is, Christmas Eve. I am so filled with gratitude, love, peace and joy. If God is with us, who is against us?!

This is one of my favorite Christmas songs.

It was not a silent night

There was blood on the ground

You could hear a woman crying

In the alleyway that night

On the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean

And the cobblestones were cold

And little Mary, full of grace

With the tears upon her face

Had no mother's hand to hold

It was a labour of pain

It was a cold sky above

But for the girl on the ground in the dark

Every beat of her beautiful heart

It was a labour of love

Noble Joseph by her side

Calloused hands and weary eyes

There were no midwives to be found

On the streets of David's town

In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed

Shafts of moonlight on his face

But the baby in her womb

He was the Maker of the moon

He was the Author of the faith

That could make the mountains move

It was a labour of pain

It was a cold sky above

But for the girl on the ground in the dark

Every beat of her beautiful heart

It was a labour of love

Little Mary, full of grace

With the tears upon her face

It was a labour of love

~Andrew Peterson

God is so good. I've questioned Him so many times...and for what?

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace among men on whom His favor rests.

Merry Christmas to you all, and God bless us, every one.

Love,

Shelley

for the weary and troubled

Now that my sister is married, the responsibility of church music has fallen to me. I'll save most of that for a later post, but for now, while going through some new music given to me by my brother-in-law/pastor, I fell in love with this hymn that spoke to me loudly and clearly. I hope it blesses you as much as it has me.

Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul (Words: Anne Steele; Music: Kevin Twit)

Dear refuge of my weary soul

On Thee, when sorrows rise

On Thee, when waves of trouble roll

My fainting hope relies

To Thee I tell each rising grief

For Thou alone canst heal

Thy Word can bring a sweet relief

For every pain I feel

But oh! When gloomy doubts prevail

I fear to call Thee mine

The springs of comfort seem to fail

And all my hopes decline

Yet gracious God, where shall I flee?

Thou art my only trust

And still my soul would cleave to Thee

Though prostrate in the dust

Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face

And shall I seek in vain?

And can the ear of sovereign grace

Be deaf when I complain?

No still the ear of sovereign grace

Attends the mourner's prayer

Oh may I ever find access

To breathe my sorrows there

Thy mercy seat is open still

Here let my soul retreat

With humble hope attend Thy will

And wait beneath Thy feet

Thy mercy seat is open still

Here let my soul retreat

With humble hope attend Thy will

And wait beneath Thy feet

I'll be honest. I cried the first time I played it. God gave me this hymn exactly when I needed it. Weary is definitely the word to describe my soul. I needed to remember to take refuge in Him. I can't get rid of my frustration, anxiety, weakness or pain. Only He can.

If you think the words are beautiful, listen the melody here.

Love,

Shelley

human

Today's Song of the Day on my sidebar is brought to you by one of my favorite bands, The Killers, and this song is one of their best. I've discussed with several people the meaning of this song, and this is the part where I'll try that again, for the sake of clarification. This is how I understand the song, and perhaps, if you know me well, you can see why it means so much to me.

Are we human, or are we dancer? This is not an arbitrary, meaninglessly poetic question. It is actually very thought-provoking. In this context, dancer is used disparagingly. A human thinks, feels, acts based on instinct and personal decision. A dancer is controlled by someone else...similar to a puppet. A dancer has no will, but rather, only does what someone else has taught or told them. This is not a prison--dancers put themselves in this position. Up to the platform of surrender, I was brought but I was kind.

Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. This line is confusing. On the one hand, it could be a reference to surrendering all personal responsibility to someone else and losing your own life force--essentially, belonging to someone else and dancing for them. On the other hand, it could be just the opposite, with cutting the cord referring to being released from another person (i.e. cutting an umbilical cord). Perhaps it is meant to be taken either way, depending on if the reader/listener feels we are human or dancer. I'm still not sure which way I want to take it.

The second verse explores the reality of being a dancer. Pay my respects to grace and virtue, send my condolences to good, give my regards to soul and romance...so long to devotion...wave goodbye, wish me well, you've gotta let me go. If we go with the implication that dancers don't feel (again, in THIS context), then they have to let go of all of the above. Grace, virtue, good, soul, romance, devotion...they are all meaningless to a dancer (--side note: grace in its abstract, mental form--obviously, dancers possess massive amounts of physical grace).

My sign is vital, my hands are cold...there is no message we're receiving, let me know, is your heart still beating? Vital signs indicate that a person {>human<} is alive, whereas cold hands are associated with a lack of life or warmth. A beating heart is another sign of life. Would a dancer know if their heart wasn't beating, though?

Throughout the song, the singer seems to imply that we are, in fact, dancer, but keeps going back to the question: which are we? I'm on my knees looking for the answer. The lead singer of The Killers, Brandon Flowers, is a devout Mormon. It could be that this question so puzzles him that he is asking God for help. This is strangely coincidental, seeing as how God is the only One for whom humans should dance. That was not the point of the question, however. As a Mormon, Flowers understands that he is to follow God's commandments (whether or not I agree with him on what those commandments are is irrelevant here). Flowers is talking about dancing for people--a dancer who is willing to make their every move based on direction from someone else.

In an interview, Brandon Flowers said that he was inspired to write this song when he heard a friend of his complain that "we are raising a generation of dancers" with dancers having the same unfavorable context. I sincerely hope that my generation is not one of dancers, and I won't claim that I am one or the other. All I can say is I wish I was in love with a human.

Love,

Shelley

Rain ~ Patty Griffin

It's hard to listen to a hard, hard heart

Beating close to mine

Pounding up against the stone and steel

Walls that I won't climb

Sometimes the hurt is so deep, deep, deep

You think that you're gonna drown

Sometimes all I can do is weep, weep, weep

With all this rain falling down

Strange how hard it rains now

Rows and rows of big, dark clouds

But I'm holding on underneath this shroud

Of rain

It's hard to know when to give up the fight

Some things you want will just never be right

It's never rained like it has tonight before

Now I don't want to beg you, baby

For something maybe you could never give

I'm not looking for the rest of your life

I just want another chance to live

Strange how hard it rains now

Rows and rows of big, dark clouds

But I'm holding on underneath this shroud

Of rain

Strange how hard it rains now

Rows and rows of big, dark clouds

But I'm still alive underneath this shroud

Of rain

i'll wait for you, i promise you...

I admire them both so much--of course, Jason Mraz in particular. And I love that they are barefoot. It's very endearing.

we'll make it through

As I half-hang my head in shame, half-smile in bemused delight, I will admit that I am a fan of the show Glee. Not everything about it, mind you. I definitely think they could have picked a few better singers, a few better actors, and stuck to some more appropriate story lines. Don't get me wrong--Lea Michele, Chris Culfer and a few others have more than proven their vocal talent on the show, there is a decent number of good actors, and the scripts, while many times offensive, are socially relevant. What I like about Glee is that reaches out to most every high school stereotype and breaks it. Everyone on the show is given a clean slate and a chance to sing their precious hearts out. The kids in the show make real mistakes and deal with real problems. But at the end of the day, they don't judge each other; they reach out to, love and accept one another. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

And of course, the songs they sing are closely tied to the problems they deal with, which is something I always appreciate...especially lately. My Most Played Songs on iTunes currently consists of: Details in the Fabric (Jason Mraz), A Beautiful Mess (Jason Mraz), Slow Dancing in a Burning Room (John Mayer), Smile (Uncle Kracker), The World Spins Madly On (The Weepies), etc. You can tell a lot about a person by the songs they listen to at any given time. This fabulous arrangement of an Avril Lavigne song done by the cast of Glee is a wonderful example of the way they sing their frustrations away.

Keep Holding On - Glee Cast

from where i sit you're one of a kind

I did it. What did I do? I graduated high school, that's what. While I did not have a formal graduation, I did have a formal senior recital, at which my father handed me my diploma.

I started planning this recital a year ago, after my conservatory's Grand recital--I had just wrapped up my junior year. My piano teacher introduced the idea of doing a senior recital to me, and my thought was, "I have a whole year. I can SO do this. This will be fun." Historically, I do not get nervous before piano recitals, competitions, festivals, etc., so what did I have to do except practice and be excited? My other constant thought was, "I wonder what kind of person I'll be at my senior recital." I thought about that a lot.

So for the next year, I worked diligently on putting together and polishing my repertoire. But before I knew it, my year was almost over. As June 5th got closer and closer, the pressure kept building and I was getting more and more worried and stressed about it. But my parents, teachers and friends all assured me that it would be fine. So I practiced for hours every day, even escaping to the conservatory to play uninterrupted.

Finally, I woke up on June 5th at 9 o'clock, after spending a marvelous night with my sister Beth and three of our closest friends. I got up, took a shower, had bean and cheese tacos for breakfast (compliments of Beth and Chey who left the house without us knowing, and came back with armfulls of Taco Cabana), did my hair and makeup, practiced my pieces for the last time as a high school student, we loaded up the cars and were off to Castle Hills. When we got there, I tried to helpful as my wonderful family and aforementioned friends set everything up, but each time I ended up walking around aimlessly with shaking hands and pounding heart and butterflies in my stomach.

4 o'clock got closer and closer. I got dressed and was told to go hibernate backstage as guests started to arrive. So I had Beth (who was out greeting people) put her phone on speaker so I could hear everything going on, while I was locked away, with nothing to do but marinate in my own nerves. I had a couple visitors--sister CJ and friend Samuel came to check up on me and wish me luck one last time. Then I heard Pawpop voice the opening prayer, I heard Mrs. Woodard introduce me, I felt myself walk down the ramp, explain my first song choice, sit down at the piano bench and think to myself, "Well, I guess this is who I'm going to be at my senior recital." I sent one last prayer heavenward for peace and strength, and I played. After each piece, I left the stage and came back to more applause. I don't really remember what I was doing in my 1/2 minute backstage between pieces. I remember that it felt like a dream. A surreal, intense dream in which I was doing what I know best, and all of the people I love and who love me were watching.

Before I knew it, I thundered the last G of Chopin's Ballade in G Minor, lifted my fingers from their ivory friends and breathed an enormous sigh of relief and gratitude. I took my last bow, came to meet Mrs. Woodard and knew that my legs were shaking and my face was flushed. Dad read from Colossians, handed me my diploma with Mom, prayed, I handed my two amazing piano teachers flowers, then went backstage to change for the third time. Sisters CJ and Aubrey were waiting to help me and make sure I was still breathing (I think I was).

Once I had changed clothes, I went out to my reception, where I spent the next 2 hours being hugged and complimented by close to 200 people who I am grateful to call my family and friends. I was shaking and ridiculously thirsty. Once it was all over and the last guests had left, I collapsed into a chair beside my mother and felt the feeling return to my body.

When it was all said and done and cleaned up, some of my siblings and our good friends went to have dinner and see Letters to Juliet (which was terrible, mind you). Then I came home, talked with my parents about the night, and after lying in bed with my mind racing for about an hour, I fell asleep, waking up in exactly the same position the next morning (being an extremely light sleeper, this NEVER happens to me).

Being the human that I am, my recital was rife with mistakes--tripped cadenzas, jazz chords, a [graceful] transition from triplets to sixteenth notes, a clumsy page-turn, and 8 measures that I up and skipped, but the fact that I did it at all is kind of awesome, isn't it? I didn't have to play a senior recital. I didn't have to memorize 90 minutes worth of music. But I did! And I'm so grateful for that. God gave me a talent, and I got to share it with so many people. I'm ecstatic.

I'm also ecstatic that it's over and I feel so optimistic about where my life will take me, post-high school. It's gonna be great. Want to come?

Our God is mighty to save

Hillsong United came to San Antonio two nights ago. While I am not a very big fan of Christian music in general (a story for another time), these guys are amazing. From the moment they took the stage, it was evident that, not only are they phenomenal musicians and showmen, but that they, above all, wanted to glorify God and inspire people to worship with them. The atmosphere was wonderful and full of energy.

The last concert I went to was Jason Mraz's Gratitude Café Tour in Austin. That was the best concert I've ever been to. The difference is that at Mraz's concert, everyone was there solely to see a fantastic musician and hear fantastic music. At Hillsong, everyone was there to, yes, see fantastic musicians, but also to praise God and worship him with this incredible praise band. It was a wonderful experience. Thousands of God's people gathered together to honor and exalt Him.

Savior

He can move the mountains

Our God is mighty to save

He is mighty to save

Forever

Author of salvation

Our God is mighty to save

He is mighty to save

Love, Shelley

"Music is such an expensive habit"

The current most played artists on my iTunes: Jason Mraz, The Beatles, Ingrid Michaelson, The Killers, Tom Petty, Blue October, The Ditty Bops, Regina Spektor, Joshua Radin, Brendan James, Alexa Wilkinson.

I don't know that I would call myself a "music geek." But I'm not sure what I would call myself. I am deeply passionate about music. For the past seven years, I have been paying my dues and doing my time to get to where I am with music. I appreciate good music. I do not appreciate bad music. I have a critical ear. Music is something that everyone loves, but not everyone is good at. It does not necessarily make me mean, arrogant, closed-minded or any less in love with music because I am not afraid to say that a good number of people in popular music are not good musicians. I am entitled to my own opinions as much as you are entitled to disagree with them.

I long to see the day when real musicians dominate popular music once again.

Unfortunately, these days, people are obsessed with the following sad excuses for artists:

Ke$ha. I have a theory that this girl represents everything wrong with popular music. Countless songs about drunken hookups? Check. Autotune? Check. Elementary rhymes? Check. Bonus White Trash factor? Check check.

Orianthi. I will be the first to admit: Orianthi is an incredibly gifted guitarist. The sad thing is, she's not satisfied with that, and seems to think that since she's such a great guitarist, she must be able to sing as well. Sad, sad misunderstanding. Her current single, "According to You," which is topping the charts, is just plain awful. I would not be surprised if a fifth grade girl wrote it.

Justin Bieber. Aside from being essentially a sweatshop kid, who told him it was a good idea to use "Baby, baby, baby oh (x2)" as a chorus? Poor kid.

Miley Cyrus. Sweetheart, try singing without sounding like you have a sinus infection. Also, try not to call yourself a Christian, then pole dance at a kids' awards show. And if you're not too busy, you might give good songwriting a try. You are one of the mass of teenage girls who think that pretty face=pretty voice.

Don't get me wrong, there have been some wonderful exceptions. Jason Mraz almost single-handedly brought real music back into the mainstream. How? Because he knows how to play his instruments well, he has a classically smooth voice, and his use of the English language is unparalleled. Blue October (one of the only rock bands I enjoy) also fought through the mess of bad music to make it. Lead singer Justin Furstenfeld's painfully impassioned voice mixed with their creative and beautiful use of not only electric, but classical instruments and very relatable, yet still original, lyrical concepts made them a very interesting and stimulating band. There are others, such as The Killers, Sara Bareilles, Staind, Ben Folds, etc.

I only wish these amazing musicians and bands weren't up against such nonsense competition and a musically ignorant generation. It's a hard fight upstream. But don't worry, your day is coming soon. One day, everyone will wake up and realize the beauty of real music. For the present, though, to avoid stooping to mediocrity, I am more than content to a) err on the side of indie, where the most wonderful artists reside and make beautiful music for the few people interested, and b) go way back, listening to the music my parents grew up on.

In love and truth, Shelley.