Free Fallin'

In light of a LOT of events that made my heart ache yesterday, I wanted to share this. In the midst of cleaning our basement, I found an old iPod of mine that, when I hooked up to power for the first time in years, played this cover that I'd done in 2011 as the first song on shuffle. 

My dear friend Andrew and I are a couple of amateurs, but I remember this being such a wonderful show and a simpler time in my life, as a 22-year-old college grad with a certainty that the other 22-year-olds and I could bring about change in the world. Life's a bit more complicated now, as an adult. Things like the Las Vegas shooting give us grown-ups lots of moral issues with which to wrestle; lots of realizations that people aren't always good. 

I guess that makes it all the more important to try as hard as we can all the time.

Sitting in the melancholy of these gorgeous chords today and thinking thoughts of hope. Click the link below to listen. Thanks, Tom Petty. 

Small Enough

The Lenten season is usually a period of the liturgical calendar that I enjoy. I love spiritual disciplines - I think, if I'm being honest, because it allows me a box to check. "Did I complete my Lenten fast today? Yes? CHECK!" In the world of faith, which can often feel so amorphous, Lent, to me, feels tangible.

(PS - Lent is a period of time in which many Christians fast from something for 40 days to emulate Jesus' 40 days in the wilderness. It begins with Fat Tuesday [the end of Mardi Gras] and continues for the 40 days leading up to Easter, excepting Sundays.) 

This year, for a myriad of reasons, Lent has been different. I have been taught in new ways that, though Lent is usually a time when I feel most in control of my faith, I'm not in control at all. For this control freak, that's certainly been a tough pill to swallow. Sure, I knew that already, in a far-off sort of way, but to be presented with that reality more concretely has been startling. For one of the (embarrassingly) very first times, I've been forced to trust only God (rather than myself) in a way that has made me feel vulnerable and often lonely. 

I don't believe in the whole "everything happens for a reason" theology, mostly because, if you walk that back to its origin, it means that God causes suffering. I do believe that we can find God in every stage, every phase of life, and that God goes before us on our paths.

This song, "Small Enough," is all about crying out to a God who feels so big. We read about God's mighty acts; the sweeping, epic faiths of the folks who've gone before us. And yet (especially true for me this Lenten season), that same "Great God" shrinks down for each of us to fit into our smallest, most private moments; to sit with us in our grief, our fear, our sadness. 

When I sang this at our church here in Asheville, my grandfather was very ill. His prognosis was not good. (He, miraculously, is doing much better.) Singing these words out loud in the midst of that sadness was one of the most powerful experiences I've had - it felt so personal and vulnerable, like much of this season of life has been. So, in case you need the Small God to speak to you in little ways today, I wanted to share it with you. Because, it turns out, God shows up every time. 

Musical Tuesday: In A Razor Town

When I lived in Memphis, my friend Jackson Sprayberry offered to record a song for me. Little did I know that the finished product would include multiple camera angles, fade-ins/outs, and warm, lovely lighting (somehow extracted from the poorly lit subject he had to work with). 

This is my cover of Jason Isbell's In A Razor Town - a song that really sticks in your bones.Let me "disclaim" here that I'm not a super-talented guitarist.

If you aren't familiar with Jason Isbell, please take me at my word that he is one of the finest artists making music anywhere today. He's originally from Alabama and has written some gut-wrenchingly gorgeous music - some you'll want to cry to, some you'll want to drink to. 

Hope you enjoy - and thanks, Jackson, for reminding me this existed. 

Singing with Sid

A little music for your Monday morning. 

One of the things I'm realizing as I get older is how fortunate I was to grow up in a musical household. There was always music somewhere - playing on the stereo, being sung by my mom, or being played by my dad. 

Dad was good enough at the guitar that he could play anything we wanted to sing. He was also good enough that when Parker and I were really small, we would just start making up a song and he'd follow along with us. Some of my most cherished memories are centered around nonsense-songs that Dad would create to entertain us, just walking around the house with his guitar and singing about totally random things. If you are a parent and you're even SLIGHTLY musical, make it a part of your life. Your kids will remember it for years to come. 

Dad and I have played together lots of times - at church, at my high school talent show, for Junior Miss stuff, etc. - and it's always something I've taken for granted that I could sit down with him and pick up where we left off. When Jordan and I went to Tulsa this most recent time, I asked Dad if he would mind me filming us playing together to put on the blog. So here we are, in PJs, playing one of our old favorites: Killing the Blues, in the style of Shawn Colvin. It's not my best vocal performance, but this is something so precious to me - playing music with my dad - that I wanted to share it here. 

Hope you enjoy.