The Boy That Changed Our Lives

Posted by: wearehome in We Are Madison County: Community & Family June 13, 2013 0 371 Views

Has your heart ever been torn to shreds after reading a tragic news story about a child who suffered because there weren’t enough people who cared? Have you ever wished there was something you could do about it?

Here at We Are Madison County, we’re all about stories. I’m going to tell you a story about how a tragic story broke our hearts in such a way that it would change our actions.

Quite a few years back, when my husband still had a desk job, he managed to pass the hours by keeping up on current news stories. My husband has a bit of a bleeding heart, and many times he would come home and share a particularly difficult story that would cause us both to lower our eyes in despair because there was simply nothing to say. There was one story in particular about a boy named Robert that left a mark on both of our hearts.

The story was tragic. Robert, 7, had been court mandated to have visitation with his mother, although his father had fought hard for full custody. On one of his mandatory weekend visits, he was so severely beaten by his mother’s boyfriend that Robert died. My husband read about his kind disposition and how he was known to be a sweet child who always gave his teachers lots of hugs. His little face even reminded him of our own son.

This story broke my husband in a way I hadn’t seen before; it was the icing on the cake for him. We had struggled through quite a few other tragedies in our life, but for some reason this little boy did him in. I could see the depression sink in as he struggled to reconcile the tragic reality of our world with his faith.

This little boy left a spot on our souls. His story left us with the feeling that living this life for the pursuit of the almighty dollar or even for just ourselves wasn’t enough. Something in us changed.

A few years passed by. Last summer I offered to let my neighbor’s daughter come over to hang with us while her dad worked. She liked our house so I let my neighbor know she was always welcome. Eventually the little girl started coming over with her cousin. I could tell things weren’t very stable with the little girl’s cousin and she would say things like, “I think my house is a hotel…” I didn’t ask many questions, but let my neighbor know the girls were welcome anytime for as long as they needed to stay.

The girls would spend the night and even stay for 2 or 3 days at a time. My husband—remarkably—was ok with this. He was patient with these girls, loving and kind. We happened to be in the middle of a huge bathroom tear-out and when the cousin became curious, following him around the house as he worked hard on completing our bathroom project, I was blown away by his patience and willingness to even allow her to help him. He didn’t know what her life was like at home, why she was living in a hotel, or if she had a daddy or not. But he showed kindness to the young strangers in our home that summer.

Little did we know that allowing a few neighbor girls to spend time with us was laying the foundation for something bigger to happen. We were being prepared for the moment when the mother of our neighbor’s cousin would call us because she was at the end of her rope and thought perhaps we could be of some help. We were being prepared for becoming a Safe Family so that we could provide a temporary home for the little girl (and her younger brother), who had been living in a hotel while their mother worked hard to get back on her feet. It was our opportunity to act, to do something about all those tragic news stories.

Right now, in Madison County, there are kids who are on the brink of abuse and neglect because their parents are in crisis. Maybe their parents can’t find work. Maybe they were evicted. Maybe there is no one they can depend on.

Safe Families for Children helps families that are in crisis. This incredibly unique program actually allows the parents to voluntarily place their children in the home of a “safe family” while they work to get back on their feet without falling into the hands of the system.

Here in Madison County we have a handful of incredible host families. They are some of the most gracious and kind people I have ever met… and we need more. Many of our placements are short term but life changing. Additionally, we will receive funding from the Department of Child Services for each family processed in June. If there has been a knock on the door of you heart, please consider stepping up to assist a child in need.

You never know how your life might be changed when we choose to open our hearts and our homes to a child who is in need.

For more information go to INsafefamilies.org or email Emma at ejohnson@safe-families.org

A Day in the Life at Safe Families...

It always seems as though my entries are a long time coming.

I procrastinate intentionally.

I usually know what I want to say.  I just don't know how I'm going to say it.

I have taken a new job.  It's not really a job though, I don't look at it that way.

Miracles happen here, miracles of self discovery and new found love.  So it's hard to define it as just a job.

Calls are made, emails and text messages are sent, voicemails are left.  It all seems so... jobby.  But it's not.  At the end of those emails and text messages are meetings that look like every day events.  One mom meets another in a parking lot.  One takes a child out of the car and hands him off to the next.  They talk about diapers and nap times and such.  It all seems so normal.  But really it's a miracle that these two mothers are joining forces to take care of another mothers child.  A mother who desperately loves her child but whose mind is not well.  A mother who desperately needed a break and had no one to turn to.

Her child is given rest, another pair of arms to love him, until his own mother's are ready for him.

Another woman is homeless.  There are such severe connotations with that word: homeless.  All it means is she had a squabble with her roommate.  One has to leave and it is her.  But she has no where else to go.  No where that she and her kids can live.  So she calls Safe Families.  She requests a placement and says good bye to her children until she finds a home.

Some people have major issues with helping "these" people.  The type that need help.  Their stories are always messy.  They make babies with men who don't stick around.  They buy too much pop with their food stamps or brand names for their children although they have no roof to stand under.

They are easy to judge.  They are easy to separate ourselves from because they look nothing like us.  We would never feed that to our kids or neglect our bills for brand names.  We can't understand being homeless.  We would call a sibling, or a parent, or a friend.  Because we don't understand it, we judge and we separate ourselves from them.

It's much easier.

Judging these people makes my job more like a real job.  It allows me to close a case at the end of the day and go home.  It allows me keep myself separate, declaring the splinter in their eye before acknowledging the log in my own.

But maybe there is something else to see.

Maybe we aren't so different after all.

Sure I pay close attention to what I feed my children, and I pay my bills on time and do most of my shopping at garage sales.

But could I truly stand blameless before these people and legitimately shake my finger at them?  If someone was looking over my shoulder the same way I'm looking over theirs... what would be found?  Would my file be squeaking clean?  Or would I find a few smudges?  Would I find some wasted dollars here and there?... or some bad decisions made during my younger years?  Would I really be spotless and justified to point that finger?

Many times we are put into the position of being that all-seeing eye in someone's life.  We see all that they do, we look at it carefully, and judge it according to our own standard.  But don't we have an all-seeing eye peering into our own life?  Does not the God of the heavens and earth see each and every one of us?  If we were to stop and consider this...what might be seen?

I'm speaking from experience here.  I came out of High School and went into College making harsh judgments about other people's lives compared to my own.  At one point during my Freshman year I believe, I remember seeing a girl whose right side of her face had become completely paralyzed because of stress.  I remember looking at her while she tried to talk to me with only half of her mouth and thinking, "Really?  What could be so stressful about college that her face would become paralyzed?  I have to take full-time classes AND a 4 hour gymnastics practice every day.  Give me a break."

My next mission was to apply the same shallow view to my brand new marriage.  I judged and weighed Jeremy's actions against my own often enough to drive him away from me.  Our suffering started off almost immediately and it took 5 years of hacking it out until I finally began to submit myself to the idea that perhaps my slate wasn't so clean after all.  Maybe, just maybe I had a few smudges on my own record too.  I soon felt the sting of acknowledging my own guilty conscience.  I knew I hadn't been squeaky clean, although Jeremy was aware of that far before I was.

I'm thankful that God was kind toward me when I finally came around and saw my own shortcomings. He didn't shame me or say, "I told you so."  I felt like a fool and he would tell me that it's ok.  God's love began to feel real to me in these places.

I began the long process of removing the log from my our own eye, and I can see a little better now.  I can see these people who need help and resist judgement.  In their own world, yes, they have made mistakes... but so have I.

Jesus comes as the great Equalizer, placing us all under his feet.  I might be looking into their life, but I know I have someone looking into mine as well.

And besides.... if we listen closely to these people from another world, we might be blown away.  We might find that they are prophets and truth seekers.

One woman tells me about her son named from the Bible because she asked God to give her a name for her son and he did.  She goes onto explain that his middle name comes from an older cousin who acted as an angel in her life, taking her in under his wing and protecting her from the abuse happening in her home as a young girl.

Another woman sits in my kitchen.  She tells me about the drama at work, and how people are becoming more and more heartless and crazy these days.  At the end of it all she decides the whole world just needs Jesus and that's about it.

The true hands and feet of Jesus in this whole Safe Families gig are our host families.  Have you ever tried loving a child that is not your own?  It can be difficult.  Taking in a child that is not your own with no financial reimburesment is not easy.  You may be wiping a bottom that doesn't even belong to you, wondering what in the world his mom is doing.

It is very difficult to love others with the same love we have been given...with no strings attached.

This is where the rubber meets the road, where we get to put our faith into action, extending the grace and love we have been given to another who may not even understand it.

But just as they may not understand our love and our sacrifice, we who claim the Name are still called to it.  Think of the sacrifice that Jesus made and how many of us walk the earth this very day not understanding it.

This isn't a job.  This is loving others as I have been loved.  This is measuring others with the same measure used against myself.

It isn't easy.  But it's our call from above.  Working for Safe Families, or volunteering to open up your home, or loving someone so different from yourself...it's living out the thickest part of the New Testament.  It's reaching a clean hand into another's messy life and trusting the God who sees all of us to create a straight path out of the mud and the mire.

Maybe in the end we will all be changed.

"Whoever claims to live in Him must walk as Jesus did." 1 John 2:6

Ode to Addi Grace

I always knew one day I would write about her.  It's just that I have blocked out so much.  The majority  of our relationship has been comprised of constant turmoil with brief periods of unexpected grace.

She is my daughter.  Addison Grace, whom today turned 8 years old.  The dimple on her over sized cheek when she grins her incredible grin is a total misnomer.  Her middle name is yet to describe her disposition.  She is tiny for her age and seems harmless, but she is small and mighty.  Very small and very mighty.

Her birth rocked my world.  I remembering seeing other mothers with their babies who seamlessly transitioned into motherhood without a glitch.  Mine was full of glitches.  She screamed at me for everything and during her first year she would only fall asleep at night because she had exhausted herself from all the crying.

I look back at our first 3 years together and feel dizzy with memories of tantrums, door slamming and baby profanity (as I call it).  I'll never forget when the lightbulb went on in my head when she was about 3 1/2, and I realized that I was dealing with a strong willed child.  So strong, in fact, that at different points in her first 3 years of life, my mother-in-law would call her temper "the worst she's ever seen," and my own mother would throw her hands up in the air and say, "I don't know Emma, your on your own!!"

I had been so sure that her temper had been just a "phase" and that loving her the right way would melt her determined will and kindly call her into submission to her all-knowing, all-wise mother.  This was not to be, I would have to learn another way.

When she was two she got a baby brother that she was mostly happy about, but not entirely.

When she was only three she declared that she couldn't wait to "move out" where there are "no mean mommy's and mean daddy's and she could live by herself."  This fierce independence was no joke.  During the year of three, Addi, Sam and I all flew to Oregon by ourselves.  I had to change Sam's diaper and I required that Addi come with us to the bathroom.  She begged to stay in her seat.  I considered it for a moment, not really wanting to cram 3 of us into the airplane's bathroom, but decided she'd better come with me.  She looked at me, read my mind like she always does and said, "Mommy, I promise, if anyone tries to take me... I'll kill them!"  These were her exact words.

When she was four she started trying to be smarter than me: "Addi it's time for a bath."  "No it's not.  It's time to play with play dough.  Simon didn't say to take a bath.  I'm Simon and Simon says to play with play dough."

When she was five she declared she knew who she wanted to marry.  I said "that's great!  We'll just have to wait and see what God has in store for you two!"  She said, "What?  I don't care what God thinks, I'm marrying Jaxen when I'm 18!"

When she was six she lost her first tooth, grew her hair to her rear end, started calling her Grandma by her first name (Pam), and tried to dress her guinea pig up like a rat for Halloween.  At this age she actually did become smarter than me every now and then.  Once I gave her a Rubik's cube to try and figure out while in the back seat of the car.  After about 5 minutes she said, "Mom I got one side completely matched!"  I was surprised, but assumed it was possible.  Five more minutes passed and she exclaimed, "Mom I got another side all matched!"  Now I was really surprised, and praised her for figuring it out!  I told her to tell her dad as soon as we got home.  When she did, I asked, "What did Dad say about the Rubik's cube?"  She looked down and said, "Oh, he figured it out....I just switched the stickers around...."

When she was seven she started drinking her beverages out of a martini glass.... and she still called her Grandma by her first name.  She also started showing signs of such bravery, never shedding a tear when taking a hard fall off her bike, and responding to emergency situations with a calm, cool and collected head.  Like when Tok got a bone lodged vertically in his mouth, forcing it in the open position (it was this way for at least an hour before I noticed...)  Addi calmly held his jaw and we forced it out, while Sam ran through the house wailing.


Her guinea pig is her saving grace.  She's had him since she was 6; she adores this thing, treats it like her own baby and she his mama.  When she cries she runs to him and he (no lie) licks the tears off her face.  He crawled into my lap the other day while she and I were sitting side by side.  Addi seeing him says, "Ferdie doesn't like you.  He told me.  He doesn't like his Grandma."

Sometimes I respond to her in ways she can understand, like in terms of guinea pigs.  I say to her, "Addi, what if you got a grumpy guinea pig?  What if he ran from you every time you tried to hold him?  What if he growled in your face when you tried to kiss his cheek?"

She gets it.  Totally gets it, and yells, "I"M NOT A GRUMPY GUINEA PIG!!!!"

In the past eight years, this girl has made me question myself, made me cry when I find myself at my wits end acting in ways I never imagined, and even has made me want to give up on being her mom (for at least a day!)  She challenges me practically every day we are together, constantly calling my methods into question and refusing to comply to my ways... but at the end of the day, she forces me into self reflection in a way a compliant child would not.  She's an incredible force to be reckoned with, but in the end she has probably made me a better parent because of it all.  It helps that she has an awesome Dad who is more patient with her than me.  She has always adored her Daddy, and he has always made a better effort than me at seeing life from her perspective.

She is something else, God gave her to us and I love her dearly.  Happy 8th Birthday to my incredible daughter, Addi Grace.

The Johnson Family Adventure

I am beginning to feel a curious joy within me, one that only God could create in someone such as me.  I have spent so many of my days disorganized, misplacing things, and managing my time poorly.  But God is beginning to align my life in ways I wouldn't have even thought were possible.  I have always said, if anything ever comes of Jeremy and I... if people like us can pull it together and work towards a common goal... then surely there must be a God in heaven.

I have said many times, that Jeremy and I together are like the blind leading the blind.  We both struggle with organization, motivation and procrastination.  We misplace things constantly... with both of us trying our absolute best, we have the strength one semi-organzied person.  No joke.  Just ask my mother.

Right now, Jeremy sits in the bathroom with the door closed, playing his guitar.  Our lives have taken a detour, the future is somewhat unplanned... and he and I couldn't be happier.  Allow me to explain.

One month ago, Jeremy got the news that he was being laid off.  My heart somewhat rejoiced over this, since I have watched my husband die a slow death and as he day in and day out worked a job he greatly disliked for a cutthroat corporation he had little to no respect for.  His saving grace was always his music, whether that meant practicing on his lunch break or playing gigs on the weekends, it saw him through his misery.  He even wrote a song whose message was birthed from the pains of his cubicle.  (By the way, this is one of my favorite songs.  It is unrecorded... anyone know which one it is??)

So the chance for a change was welcomed.  Soon, a good job opportunity came along... one that would pay substantially more money and should provide Jeremy and I with more ease and security.  Many times, Jeremy and I teetered back and forth between taking the job and pursuing plan B.  The job offered a lot; it was like a sparkly golden carrot dangling in front of us, and time and time again we told ourselves, "We should take that carrot.  The carrot is secure.  The carrot can give us the things we need. The carrot is the responsible choice, the wise choice of the male provider..."

Although the carrot would have fixed many of our immediate problems--like the holes in the walls of our stair well, and the dilapidated thing in our backyard we sometimes call a garage--deep down we didn't want the carrot.  We wanted plan B.  Plan B was more of a pipe dream that Jeremy and I would practically joke about (or blog about).  Plan B was having the freedom to travel and book shows in familiar cities, while I homeschooled the kids and continued working my Shaklee biz.  This plan obviously didn't hold a candle to the opportunity that the job presented, so it wasn't largely considered.

We decided that the job was too good to refuse, and Jeremy accepted the job offer, despite his longing to pursue his music more seriously.  A few different complications pushed the date of his offer back a few days, then a week.  During this bonus week, we both found our minds drifting back to plan B.  A few more pieces had coincidentally fallen into place.  One major piece was my part-time job offer.

Now--allow me to make it well known that I wasn't out seeking a part-time job because my husband got laid off.  God brought me this job.  He dropped it on my lap in the middle of a whirlwind, just like he dropped four kids and their incredible Mom into our lives one weekend back in September.

The organization I have been asked to work for is Safe Families.  This is the organization that allowed our family and my parents to keep the four kids for four months, (you can read about this adventure here, here and here), which bought their hard working Mom much needed time to get back on her feet.  This was the greatest gift she could have been given, and knowing the difference it made in her life gives me such joy.  I am so grateful for this organization... they made it possible for a loving Mom to NOT lose her kids and it's going to continue to help more people as Andria and I share our story and spread the good word about Safe Families to Madison County.  So, needless to say, I'm taking this job one way or the other.  But how incredibly perfect of God to present this opportunity NOW.  He provided me with a part-time job before we knew Jeremy would be getting laid off.

Once we added this new part-time position to Plan B, it became all the more tantalizing. Have you ever seen the movie The Odd Life of Timothy Green?  In one scene, the parents are unable to have a child, so for one night... they dream.  They write down everything their child would be if they were to have him, with the intentions of burying their dreams forever in their back yard and move on with the realities of life.

Well, coincidentally, we kind of did that too.  With the extra week of having Jeremy entirely off work, ... we found ourselves dreaming more and more.  We soon found there were more aspects to our Plan B pipe dream than we thought, and it couldn't be contained as only pursuing music.  It was a conglomerate of ideas and passions we both felt that God had placed within our souls.  Plan B was soon re-named, The Johnson Family Adventure.

I spent late nights online learning how to further grow my home based business with Shaklee.  I spent time thinking of ideas and ways to spread the good word about Safe Families to all of Madison County and beyond.  I even thought about ways I could schedule breaks in the gymnastics program I run at the YMCA.  We both spent an ample amount of time thinking of new ways Jeremy could pursue his music--ways that haven't been available to him with a full-time job.  These ideas included playing weddings and in churches; maybe even weaving in some stories from the background of his music, allowing his song-writing to be an opportunity for transparency and help to others.

After that week, the job offer was still on the table.  Jeremy felt that it was too late to back out now... so he agreed to meeting at 8:30 Friday morning to seal the deal and take the job.  After a day of mourning the loss of our Johnson Family Adventure, I decided to back my husband 100% and encouraged him to go through with the job if he felt it was right.  So I kissed him on his way out the door that morning before he left, feeling as though our fate was sealed.

How surprised I was, when he called a few hours later, to tell me he didn't take the job.  There was a moment of opportunity that allowed him to clear his head and realize he couldn't rightly take a position he wasn't 100% invested in.  It wouldn't have been right for the company or for himself.

So here we are, on the brink of Plan B, The Johnson Family Adventure... and though our future is undefined, our hearts are full and expectant.

Haiti, Vegas.... and a Pickle

The Johnson's are in a pickle.  Probably the biggest pickle we have been in in at least 4 years.  Life changing decisions must be made.... and it's soooooooooo hard.

So, I invite you to step right in to the middle of The Johnson's Life.

First, however, we must re-visit Vegas.

In my  previous post I began the careful investigation of doing a compare/contrast between my travels to Haiti in January 2012 and Vegas in January 2013.  Turns out there is much more to say about how I function in both of these locations.... more than the differences in the places themselves.  I could attempt to compare the differences in the people... the humility of the Haitians vs the entitlement of the Vegas-goers.  I could compare the very fact that a 3 1/2 hour plane ride to the West takes me to a concrete paradise built strictly for fun and wasting money, while a similar plane ride to the South takes me to a poverty-striken country where children run around naked and starving and die of disease and starvation daily... but I won't.

I would rather comment on the change I saw in myself as I compare my own behavior in the opposite environments of Haiti and Las Vegas.  First of all I was slightly disgusted at the amount of money wasting that went on.  It practically seemed like people brought wads of cash to purposely throw around carelessly... and as much as I desired to stick to spending only the cash that we brought... I eventually justified spending $100 over what we had planned because of this mentality.  Everyone else was doing it, so why did I need to be such a tight wad???  Funny because I remember being in Haiti and running out of money towards the end of the trip.  One of the older kids at the orphanage had his original artwork for sale... and it was beautiful.  But I was running low and wanted to be sure I had enough money to get home.  His artwork was selling for $25 and it was worth every penny.  He implored....I declined.  Funny how easily I justified overspending in Vegas just because everyone else seemed to be.  But to think of how much more my overspending would have benefitted this boy in Haiti is incomparable.
Overall I found that my own personal needs skyrocketed while in Vegas.  I expected things to be a certain way and found myself frustrated when they weren't.  I found that I was thouroughly annoyed on the airplane when I sat next to a twenty-something kid looking at women's fashion magazines, gawking with his nose pressed an inch away from a scantily clad woman.  I was almost pushed over the edge by this kids' inability to breathe with his mouth closed.  To make matters worse, every time he coughed he refused to cover his mouth and instead allowed his germs to roll freshly off his tongue and onto his lap.  YUCK!!  I'm still bothered by it.  But I dare say had I sat next to that kid on my way home from Haiti I probably would have struck up a conversation with him and ended up talking about his childhood.  My heart was in a different place.  One trip was meant to serve, and the other was meant to be served.  Maybe one day I will find that I will be the exact same person in both locations....

I won't be so stubborn as to say I didn't thoroughly enjoy myself in Vegas... because I did.  Jeremy and I had a phenomenal time and we are both thankful for the incredible opportunity this was for the advancement of his music career.  After his show, I had numerous people raise their eyebrows in surprise and say, "your married to that guy???"  He and the band severely kicked butt and made some major impressions.  I have an incredibly talented husband who has been writing beautiful music within the walls of our home for over 10 years now.  His music career is advancing as he has impressed some  of the right people for sure...but unfortunately impressing people doesn't quite pay our mortgage.  Welcome to the struggle we now find ourselves in.

Two Tuesday's ago... the day we left for Vegas, Jeremy got a call from his boss... his position is ending... their moving his position to Denver... he's getting laid off.  We contemplate moving to Denver for 2 seconds and then realize he's always wanted to quit his job anyway so Denver is out of the question.  Next he starts calling people that might be able to give him a job.  He gets an interview... the job description is great for him; not in music at all but a job he would enjoy none the less... a job he could work up in and grow... a job that would pay more... a job that would demand more of him of course.  It seems like a shoo in... like there should be no debate.  He should take the job.

But somewhere from deep within both of us, there is this little music baby whose crying and wants to be heard.  The music baby suggests that maybe now is the time to give music all you have, to do it full time and see where it goes.  To pursue it in every way possible, and see what doors God might open.

Now, to think that Jeremy could replace his income with just music gigs is quite a stretch.... I know.  It wouldn't work unless we started eating our animals and Addi would never forgive us for eating her guinea pig so that's just not an option.

But what is an option is allowing Jeremy to works toward becoming a full time musician while I take a part time job (an incredible job God has especially prepared me to do... no joke) to help out with some of the monthly expenses.  This option is more than possible as I have a job opportunity that I only need to say 'yes' to.

So.... one path holds an AWESOME part-time job for me as Jeremy works toward becoming a full time musician (this option is a leap of faith and holds no guarantees... but sounds exciting as we would go wherever music would take us).
OR
Jeremy takes a good paying consistent full-time job, with music on the side (this is the more practical side... not much risk here at all, and music would only be on the weekends at best).

My heart has SO been for Jeremy's music for such a long time.  God has given him an incredible ability in song writing and I am so passionate about what his music is about.  He can capture a moment like none other.  Tonight in the car I was blaring Meaning to the Madness and found myself sinking into each line, remembering their origins:

How peculiar that I posses the choice to put myself in your shoes.  We're all just one breath away from cold devastating news.  I'm gonna, open my eyes and let my chest feel the pain, so none of these things I do make this mess in vein...

These lines came from one of the many difficult seasons we faced.  Jeremy lost his best friend from High School in a ridiculous skate boarding accident.  His friend was a father of 3 himself and he died on Father's Day.  He also lost his Grandpa that same year... he crashed his own airplane.   We both came to the realization that death could come knocking on anyone's door at anytime and we were no exception.  But when someone you love dearly dies, you don't return to life quite the same.  Something in you screams... something changes, it has to.  Or else you struggle in vein.

That same year Jeremy and I grew more and more sickened by the terrible things that happen to children.  He got very attached to one story out of Idaho... a sweet young boy who was forced to have weekend visitation with his mother was beaten to death by her boyfriend.  The song Bleedingkeys was born out of that story alone.  Little angels mistreated by the ones that they trust.

I also visited the city of Joplin after it was torn to shreds by an F-5 tornado.  What happened there was absolutely gut wrenching.  I explained to him the story of one family eating dinner and seeing the twister heading straight toward them, dropped their forks and ran to the closet seconds before the tornado took their home.  They survived but so many did not...storms rage and people brace as hearts beat and bust.

And then of course there's the babies in any third world country... I witnessed their life and death in Haiti... who literally live their lives every day, starving.... and then they die.  Babies are starving and their turning to dust.

And this is just one song.  Every song is loaded with meaning and real life experience.  In my mind the music must be pursued.  But my husband is a good man who holds practicality in high regard and has not much interest in taking a risk when his family is at stake.

So it's your turn.  Weigh in on this with us!!  Especially if you are fans of Jeremy Johnson!!

Haiti vs Vegas...?

I sit here waiting for my stellar husband to come home from doing a late night radio talk show in Indy.  I watched most of it, and caught 1 ½ of his songs played lived in the studio.  My husband is always incredible to watch live.  I sit on edge as I watch, but he is phenomenal as always.

Four kids sleep downstairs in my living room, I open Word and start to type, listening for the roaring of our small diesel jetta to alert my ears of his arrival.  It can be heard 2 blocks away.  

I stare into the flames from our fake fireplace and my mind begins to wonder, unwinding from the busyness of the past four months.  The blank page is calling me, and has been.  Seldom have I answered it.  I’ve got things to say I can’t say yet.  Stories that simply aren’t mine to tell.  And then there are the thoughts that pass through my head in a day, the ones I can write about…but don’t.  I’m desperately afraid I’ll never wrangle these words… they’ll stay afloat for a while, they’ll dance over my head, beckoning me to capture them and put them to the page…but most days I won’t, and I will fear the day will come when my words will fly away forever.

My daughter sleeps next to me.  We are on the couch.  Earlier she was mad at me and I at her.  She cried in my ear (I was trying to watch her Daddy’s interview), I yelled at her to leave to room (she did).  Now I pick her up and rock her in her sleep, she clings to my neck and doesn’t want me to lay her down on the pillow… wants me to stay attached to her.  Does she know I’m sorry?  Is she reaching out to me in her subconscious sleep? Maybe she’s sorry too.  She missed her Daddy’s interview on account of her fit.  For a moment in uninterrupted sleep, as I rock her and she clings to my neck, we have made amends and we’ll wake up as though it never happened. 

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In 5 days I’m going to Las Vegas.  I suppose I am looking forward to it now, but I have to admit…. I kind of wanted to die being able to say I was never in Las Vegas.  I’d rather spend my time and money in some sort of natural surroundings instead of a concrete paradise… but whatever.  I’m going and I am excited, mainly because I get to watch my man in his biggest show yet as he and his band, Bleedingkeys, open for North Mississippi Allstars at the Hard Rock Café. 

I find it funny, that last year at this time I was gearing up to go to Haiti in January and this year I’m gearing up for Vegas.  Quite a contrast; though the idea of traveling to two such opposite places does tickle my fancy I must admit.  I love that God can be so out-of-the-box.

 A small part of me wants to attempt some sort of compare and contrast with Haiti and Vegas… Just for fun.  I actually visited a resort for a day in Haiti... and spent the rest of the time either on the compound (working at the clinic or hanging with kids from the orphanage) or setting up medical clinics in rural villages.  

There were many gems to this trip and you can read about them here.  One thing I remember being struck by were the poor people.  Before you chide me for making the understatement of the century, allow me to explain.  The poor there struck me as people who did not so much think of their poverty as something to comment on, or complain about, but rather as a way of life.  Simply put: it just was.  It's hard to think that people living in poverty have a "way of life"... that though one might be very poor, there are still customs and relationships and games and traditions and laughter and fellowship and happiness...and even gratitude.  On Sunday morning, these "poor people" emerged from mud huts and dirt floors with glowing white dresses and wide brimmed hats.  Those who attended church gave their absolute best to God on Sunday morning, though they had nothing.  What a concept.

With that, we will close and revisit this chapter in Vegas...