Ok, Drawing Is Not My Gift

While dyeing Easter eggs last week with my family, my 5-year old nephew Christopher asked me to draw an Easter Bunny on an egg for him. Because he is so ridiculously cute and sweet, his every wish is my command, so I readily complied. How could I resist this face?



Ok, so...I am an artist, but I am a writing and singing kind of artist, not a drawing kind of artist. But I figured I could manage an Easter Bunny. Here was the net result:

Christopher loved it. But when the rest of my family saw it, they absolutely HOWLED, as it was further proof of my complete and utter lack of artistic ability. Among their comments were:

"Why does he have a belly button?"
"Where is his mouth?"
"What's with the stick arms and legs?"

And the best comment of all, from my sister Brooke:

"Why does your Easter Bunny have an umbilical hernia?"

Now ya'll, that's just mean.

So Stinkin' Proud!

I have a 12-year old niece named Darby who lives in Georgia. She is the youngest daughter of my oldest sister Julie. She is also my Goddaughter, and I have adored this precious creature from the first moment I held her in my arms, when she was about 10 hours old. Here's a picture of that very moment:



Ok ya'll. I know. I look VERY young. No crows feet or nothin'. Let's not go there. The point is that this photo literally captures me in the very moment that I am falling in love with this child.

I have been told that when I have my own children, I will feel an even greater love. And honestly, so tremendous is my love for Darby - and for ALL of my nieces and nephews - that it is hard for me to imagine my heart being able to handle much more! And yet I know it will be true. Too many people have told me.

Darby (a/k/a Darby-Doo, Darbs, Doodle, and The Doodlebug) has, within the last year or so, become very involved in the youth group at her church. She has made critical decisions about her faith, and church has become a big part of her already-busy life. Aunt Krissy is, of course, thrilled about this.

Darby's mother (again, my sister Julie) called me recently to tell me that Darby was going to be participating in a 30-hour fast in order to raise money for World Hunger. I immediately felt so proud of my Doodlebug, because she has a high metabolism, and has to eat often. So I knew this would be a real challenge for her.

Julie then went on to tell me that Darby had decided to do the fast at the last minute, and therefore, had not had the time to raise any money for the cause. Julie offered to pledge the money, but Darby felt like that was too easy. Instead, she decided that she would take the $50 remaining from her Christmas money, and contribute that to the World Hunger cause.

Wow.

Now, let me explain the reason for my "Wow". First of all, $50 is a lot of money when you're 12-years old. Heck, it still feels like a lot to me sometimes. It's a significant amount to give away. Secondly, Darby is a kid who loves to shop. I know how much she would have enjoyed spending that money on clothes and shoes. In fact, when she was younger and I would come and visit her and her family in Georgia, the first thing she would say to me was, "Krissy, did you bring your credit cards?" (Ha, ha. So funny. She has always been a trip-and-a-half, this kid).

The bottom line is that it was a big deal for Darby to give up money and food. And it made me and Julie feel like she is really starting to understand some of the integral aspects of her faith. Sacrifice. Generosity. Selflessness. "Looking not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others." (Philippians 2:4).

Anyway, I am so proud, I could burst. What a delight to see this young woman taking the first steps in her faith journey, and doing so with such characteristic cheerfulness.

I'll leave you with two pictures. The first is of me and Darby at her 2nd birthday party in 1998. It is important to note that, hilariously, Darby did not smile in any pictures the first two years of her life. I think she thought she was smiling, but she wasn't. This all changed when she was about two-and-a-half, and she has been a major poser ever since.

The second picture is the two of us in the same pose just a week and a half ago on Easter Sunday.

Once my Doodlebug, always my Doodlebug.

Not Enough Blogging!

Hey All!

Well, once again, I must apologize that it has been two months since my last blog posting. There are several reasons for that, but I'll spare you those details and simply say this: I am making a re-commitment to my blog this week. Renewing my blog vows if you will.

I recently returned from a week-long trip to the GLORIOUS mountains of Red River, New Mexico, and found wonderful refreshment and inspiration there! (Honestly, if you can't find inspiration there, then I'm not sure where you can. I mean, exquisite doesn't even BEGIN to describe it). Here's a pic of me, the mountains, and some friends from the trip! From left to right, that's Becky, Kayla, me, Philip and Chuck.

Gah this was a fun day!

All right, so...Hear ye, hear ye! Let it be known in all the land that from this day forth, not a week shall passeth without a new blog post from thy humble servant. To thee I make this solemn vow.

After all, I know how much you've missed my ramblings...

Um, What's Goin' On Here Ya'll?

Check out the middle stoplight.

Did we have some installation problems here? HA! I'm sure there is some reason for this, and that it was done on purpose, but I had to laugh at the possible scenario:

"Hey Bob?"

"Yeah Jim."

"Um, I accidentally put this stoplight on backwards."

"Well, that's all right. They can look at the other two to see whether or not to stop or go."

"That's true. I'll leave it as is."

Lessons In Humility

Do you wish to rise? Begin by descending. You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility. - Saint Augustine

Howdy All and Happy New Year! I am SO sorry it has been a while since I have posted to the Blog. It has not been for lack of material, I assure you! Indeed, the last several weeks have been incredibly eventful, fraught with changes and challenges, but enriched by some nice victories as well.

As many of you reading this already know, I left Dell Inc. in April of 2007 - after 14 years at the company - to pursue a career as a singer/songwriter and screenwriter. I had bathed this decision in months and months of prayer, and felt very certain about the choice I was making. As is often the case with any major, life-changing decision, I felt a normal mix of anticipation and trepidation. I was confident that some very cool and exciting things lay ahead, but that confidence was coupled with a natural fear of the unknown. I remember shortly before I left Dell someone asked me, "So...are you excited? Are you scared?" And I replied, "Yes and yes." Truer words never spoken. I was thrilled, but terrified.

I am pleased to report that, in the months since leaving Dell, the terror has abated significantly, while the excitement has only grown. Long-dormant creative spaces in my heart and mind have been opened up, and I have written more in the last 8 months than I had in the last 8 years. It has been tremendously satisfying, and a real blast. It has also been abounding in personal and spiritual growth, new experiences, and lessons learned. There is so much that I could write about! But today, I want to write about some Lessons In Humility that I have experienced over the course of the last few months. First, let's take a look at Webster's definition here:

hum·ble/hu·mil·i·ty
1. Marked by meekness or modesty in behavior, attitude, or spirit; not arrogant or prideful.
2. Showing deferential or submissive respect: a humble apology.
3. Low in rank, quality, or station; unpretentious or lowly

Now, upon my first mention of humility and upon reading the above definition of it, you might have felt an uncomfortable twinge. The word sounds so similar to humiliation, and can suggest a beating down of sorts. But really, this is not the case, at least not as far as I'm concerned. Humility is not something that I consider to be a negative thing. Indeed, as a Bible-believing Christian, I believe humility to be a high calling, a quality that is highly praised and valued and honored by my God. It is a characteristic that brings one into deeper communion with Him, into greater understanding of oneself, and into greater compassion and empathy for one's fellow man.

Having said that, Lessons In Humility can make you feel lousy. Real stinkin' lousy.

I mean, for me to fail to mention that would be dishonest and disingenuous. But I'll say again, it's the real stinkin' lousy times that strengthen and stretch us, and ultimately, remind of us who we are and where our true value and identity come from. So, I can honestly say, I am truly grateful for these humbling events and what they have taught me.

My first significant Lesson In Humility occurred in July when I attended the Gospel Music Association Festival in Estes Park, Colorado. If you refer to my August posts, you will see that my days at the GMA Festival were incredibly valuable and great fun, and the whole experience was tremendously positive. But the week did hold its share of humbling experiences. In the course of the week, I decided to participate in the Vocal Competition. I had not planned on doing this, as I was primarily there to learn, but decided that it would be great experience to do so. My critique sheets from the music industry judges were generally positive, but many of the marks were just average or (gasp!) slightly-below-average. For the last 22 years of my life, I have been praised and lauded and exalted for my music and singing abilities, so receiving average to slightly-below-average marks was humbling indeed.

LESSONS LEARNED: 1) I am not "all that", 2) there are MANY talented people out there, and many who are more talented than me, and 3) I have to work work work on my craft so that I can continue to get better. No resting on natural ability. For these Lessons In Humility, I am so grateful, for "God gives grace to the humble." (Proverbs 3:34)

Lessons In Humility, Round 2 began in the middle of August, when I suddenly began to feel strangely ill. It is important to note here that I am a person who is rarely sick. Growing up, I had many years of perfect school attendance. In 14 years at Dell, I think I missed a total of about 7 days due to illness. Stomach viruses, flu bugs, colds and sore throats would sweep through my entire family or work area and pass me right over. And even when I did get sick, it would rarely keep me down and out for too long. But this - this was a bear. To this day, I'm not sure exactly what I had, and the only real diagnosis I ever got following numerous visits to the doctor was "some kind of virus." The mystery virus would strike me for two or three days at a time, go away for a few days, and then rear its ugly head again. It was marked by extreme fatigue, achiness, general malaise, and a wicked, I'd-rather-spit-than-have-to-swallow sore throat. The virus came and went for weeks. I spent days at a time in bed. I had never in my life experienced anything like it.

One night, during what would be the virus's final appearance, the sore throat pain was so severe, that I actually decided to take some painkiller. The painkiller hardly touched the pain, but it did help me sleep. And I'll spare you details here, but painkiller has always had a somewhat unfortunate effect on my body, and this situation was no exception. Let's just say that the resolution to this issue involved an enema. Lovely. TMI? Perhaps. Sorry.

Following said enema, I lay prostrate on the ground of my bathroom floor - sick, exhausted, lonely, and spent, my tears falling onto the bathroom tile. I thought of one of my favorite lyrics from the song "To Life (L'Chaim)" from "Fiddler On The Roof": God would like us to be joyful even when our hearts lie panting on the floor. Joy I could not muster, but calling on my God and praying for His mercy? That I could do. And did. And mercy came. The virus never returned again.

LESSONS LEARNED: 1) Good health, which I have enjoyed my entire life, is a precious gift that is not to be taken for granted, 2) I have a new understanding of the pain and isolation that comes with illness, and 3) I am not in control. For these Lessons In Humility, I am so grateful, for "God gives grace to the humble." (Proverbs 3:34)

In between bouts of the virus, I was interviewing at various restaurants to be a server, and was getting resoundingly rejected by all of them. Many of these establishments had advertised that this was "a perfect job for students!" But somehow, as a 38-year old college graduate with 14 years of corporate experience, I was unqualified to sling hash. Ouch.

I did finally get hired by California Pizza Kitchen (I know - YUM), and I am now beginning my fourth month there. (More on CPK in future posts). Overall, all has gone very well at CPK, but it has brought its share of humbling experiences as well. Chief among them has been the fact that, with the exception of one or two co-workers, no one really seems to want to be my friend. I've never had trouble making friends, and my life is blessed by an abundance of them. But I have tried and tried with these folks, mostly to no avail. Recently, a co-worker asked if I could cover her Thursday dinner shift if she covered my Thursday lunch shift. I readily agreed! But I later found out that she needed the Thursday night off to attend a birthday party for one of our co-workers, a party that I was quite clearly not invited to. Ouch again. The simple truth is that I am not used to this type of thing.

LESSONS LEARNED: 1) I am more grateful than ever for the friends in my life, for how unbelievably awesome they are, and for the ease with which we allowed ourselves into each other's lives and 2) I have a newfound compassion for those who have difficulty making friends, for those who have ever felt the sting of rejection or dismissal, something that I have only rarely experienced. For these Lessons In Humility, I am so grateful, for "God gives grace to the humble." (Proverbs 3:34)

When I left Dell, I did so in order to achieve my goal of becoming an artist. My goal in becoming an artist was so that I could create works that would reach people, speak to them, and maybe, possibly, hopefully reach the broken places of their lives. Today, I feel better equipped to do that because of the humbling experiences of the last several months. These experiences did not feel good, not one bit. But God has a way of bringing good out of just about anything, and I am ready to stand as a testimony to that truth.

Grief That Hurts, Grace That Heals

Three years ago this morning, I was awakened by a phone call at 6:45am. A mere 18 hours later, my Mom - my best friend, my greatest encourager, and one of the loveliest creatures to ever grace this earth - was gone.

My mother had been at Seton Northwest Hospital for 8 days, following an undetermined neurological event that had left her disoriented, confused, and struggling to speak. Since arriving on Monday, September 6th, she had been showing signs of improvement during her first few days. But by the weekend, she was beginning to show slight signs of decline.

The phone call that came on Tuesday, September 14th at 6:45am came from an ICU nurse named Julie. Her voice was calm but urgent. Mom's blood pressure had dropped significantly. "Julie, tell me," I said, "Do I need to come there right now?" "Well," she said, "We've had some rain and the streets are slick, so please be careful, but yes...you need to come here right now".

The next 18 hours would be a blur of harrowing events. Pulmonary embolism, cardiac arrest, Code Blue, CPR, chest compressions, seizures, more drops in blood pressure, kidneys failing, no neurological activity, sobbing siblings, shocked friends, discussions about Mom's end-of-life wishes, doctors using words like "grave" and "hopeless". And worst of all, standing at the bedside of my paralyzed father, and telling him that his adored wife and best friend had passed away.

Sometimes, when this anniversary is far off, I wonder why it is so difficult. My mother's absence hurts every day. Why, I sometimes wonder, does it seem to hurt more on this day? But then when the actual day arrives, I wonder no more. Because there is re-living of the events of the day, almost as if someone has put you in a "Back To The Future" DeLorean and sent you back in time to that very day. Or tied you to a chair and forced you to watch a video of the unfolding of the day's events. (The fact that I have a freakishly sharp memory does not help matters). It all becomes, once again, very vivid. Hauntingly vivid. And it's hard and it's sad.

But what also comes back are the glimpses of grace that colored those days, and the many days and weeks and months that followed. I would be remiss - nay, dishonest - if I were to mention the terrible events of September 14th and 15th, 2004, and not mention the love, support, generosity, selflessness and magnanimity that was so lavishly bestowed upon us during those days and the days that followed. An ICU waiting room FILLED with friends, the provision of food and drinks, the assurance of prayer, the gentle reminders of God's promises and provision, phone calls, emails, cards, flowers. Every face I looked into that day and in the days that came after seemed to be saying to me, "You are not going to walk through one minute of this alone."

And I could hear my God saying the same thing.

"My child, you are not going to walk through one minute of this alone."

And as shattered and grieved as I was, I knew it was true. And it was. And it still is.

Those of you who have known me for a while have heard me speak and/or write about this before. But it's something that I honestly cannot speak or write about enough. Indeed, I will probably never stop speaking or writing about it. Because as much as the dreadful events of those days still hurt and still grieve me, the love and grace that was showered upon me those days still heals and restores me. I still hurt, but I still heal.

And you know what? I could not ask for more. So thank you Jesus, and thank you ALL for "faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms." (I Peter 4:10).

There will be a memoriam in the paper tomorrow for my Mom. For those of you who may not see the local paper here in Austin, here is what it will say:

Kindness, selflessness, humor, compassion, enthusiasm, intelligence, inexhaustibility, poise, warmth, vigor, courage, generosity, devotion, integrity, grace, hospitality, dignity, loyalty, and above all, love. You were the very embodiment of all of these qualities, and we strive every day of our lives to live up to your example. What a legacy you left for us all! You are forever loved and tremendously missed. Love, Daddy, Julie, Barbie, Chandler, Darby, Chris, Shelby, Brookie, Tom, Rachel, Christopher, Krissy, Alan, Marky, Christy, Camden, Erin, and Ivan

I'll leave you with a photo of my dear Mom.

Howling!

Ya'll!

Dannielynn Birkhead, the daughter of the late Anna Nicole Smith, who is now being raised by her father Larry Birkhead, turned 1 over the weekend. Her father apparently threw her a big princess-themed birthday bash in Kentucky. I read an article about this party yesterday, and as I did, I was touched by the possibility that this little girl - whose life began so dramatically and with such tragedy and uncertainty - may just have a shot at something of a normal life.

But then I got to the picture.

Check out the three-stories-tall balloon cake that they rented for the party! HAAAAA!

Ya'll, this thing is huge! Look at how it dwarfs the giant Hummer limousine! Look at the people standing under it who look like bugs about to be squashed by cakeus gigantus! I am wondering if they needed to get permission from air traffic control to put this thing up! I am also concerned about its slighty tilted and seemingly tenuous state. If this thing went flying into the trees, it could wipe out an entire species!

Hysterical!