In My Life.....

It's been ten years. I would never have thought my life would change so much, never have believed that I'd be here, doing this and enjoying my life.

But I still miss him, even now.

Ten years is a long time. For a child, it's their whole life. But for me, it's both an immense distance and the blink of an eye. In this time, my children have gone from high school students to accomplished and polished young women, and my eldest has become the mother of a child of her own. I have gone from being a homemaker who cleaned houses on the side to make pocket money to a college student who is making plans for graduate school.

You could never have told me, ten years ago, that I would be standing here without him.

In September of 1999, my life was a very different one. My eldest daughter was a senior in high school, her little sister a junior. We had moved into a house in the woods, peaceful and pretty. My sweetheart and I were getting ready to celebrate our nineteenth wedding anniversary, not long after his fifty-first birthday, and we had already started talking about what we might do together once our girls had gone on to college. Life had settled into a happy routine.

Then, eight days before our anniversary, he suffered a massive heart attack. In a moment, he was gone.

Time passed, as it always does. Our daughters grew up, went to college, did very well for themselves. J married young, a good, kind man I am proud to call my son-in-law. C has a sweetheart as well, and I'm happy he is in her life. J went on to pursue her passion as a dancer after college, C went to work on her PhD.

And I went on as well. I grieved, struggled, strived to make a new life for myself. For a number of years, I cleaned houses to make a living, while searching for what God had for me. I went back to school part-time, and found that I had some real ability to write and speak.

And as time went on, as the years went by, I changed. I became more sure of myself. I learned to trust God more, and to believe that He wasn't going to abandon me. I learned to listen better, little by little, and found that He had plans for me. Much to my surprise, I found myself visiting graduate schools, and settling on Duke Divinity. And as I work to finish my senior year at State and get my applications ready, I pray for clarity. Even all these years aren't always enough to explain the call I now realize is on my life.

During rehearsal today, I was given this song to sing. And I think it says it all.

There are places I remember

All my life though some have changed

Some forever not for better

Some have gone and some remain

All these places have their moments

With lovers and friends I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

And these memories lose their meaning

When I think of love as something new

Though I know I'll never lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I'll often stop and think about them

In my life I love you more.

("In My Life", Lennon/McCartney)

Thank you for being a part of my life, beloved. And I thank God that we had those years together.

Your (remembering) sis,

Darcyjo

Revelation...

Dear Friends,

I will return to my Wednesday and Saturday posting schedule tomorrow, with a post on the incredible changes that have happened in my life in the last week. In the meantime, here's a bit of my life for me to think about....

Music is my native tongue, so to speak. I think in lyric lines, hear music in my head, harmonize constantly with almost anything I'm listening to. I honestly can't imagine it any other way. So, when my favorite band, Third Day, decided to return to the North Carolina State Fair, you know I had to get a ticket, right? I was online the minute the tickets went on sale, and managed to snag a third row, center seat. Wonderful! I could hardly wait to see them again!

In the meantime, life went on. My semester started going full-speed ahead, and I became overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things I had to deal with. Between the classes, church, and my music, there were days that I felt like I could barely keep my head above water. Some days were better than others, but some days I felt like going back to bed and pulling the covers over my head.

I know, I chose to do this. The path I'm called to is going to require this of me, this and sometimes even more. Knowing this didn't make me feel any less worried, however. And for the last couple of weeks, I felt like I was carrying more and more each day. I slipped into my old habit of obsessing over whether I really knew what I was doing. Did God really ask this of me, or was I just imagining it all? I had to know, somehow, whether this was for real.

So, forward to tonight, Dorton Arena, and five thousand fellow Third Day fans. I was sitting there, wishing I had a clue why I felt so lonely and tired, wondering if I had made a mistake coming there by myself. Surrounded by happy couples, families and groups, I felt tremendously alone. But I decided that, even though I was feeling down, I really wanted to hear Mac Powell sing, and I settled in for the beginning of the concert.

And God reached down, for a moment, to touch me.

I was drawn in, and started to sing along with Mac. Old favorites, like "Love Song", and "Blackbird". Worship songs, like "King of Glory" and "God of Wonders". I had finally relaxed, felt peaceful for the first time in days. I had my head thrown back, and was weaving harmony in with Mac's melody line as the lyrics touched my heart:

It’s been so long since you felt like you were loved
So what went wrong
But do you know there’s a place where you belong
Here in my arms

When you feel like you’re alone in your sadness
And it seems like no one in this whole world cares
And you want to get away from the madness
You just call my name and I’ll be there
You just call my name and I’ll be there....

I was crying. But not from sorrow. From relief, from a feeling of peace I had really missed.

My life has led me down the road that’s so uncertain

Now I am left alone and I am broken

Trying to find my way

Trying to find the faith that’s gone

This time I know that you are holding all the answers

I’m tired of losing hope and taking chances

On roads that never seem

To be the ones that bring me home

Give me a revelation

Show me what to do

‘Cause I’ve been trying to find my way

I haven’t got a clue

Tell me should I stay here

Or do I need to move

Give me a revelation

I’ve got nothing without you

I’ve got nothing without you

Once again, I'm reminded of all the things I've spent the last few years learning: how much I'm loved, that I am called for a purpose, and that He'll give me what I need to keep moving forward, one step at a time. I can't see into my future, I don't know what I'll be doing next year, next week, or even tomorrow, but it's alright. He knows, and I'm walking with Him.

Give me a revelation

I’ve got nothing without you.

Your (step by step) sis,

Darcyjo

It's not what you do...

Singing isn't my life, but it has come very close sometimes.

The first time I can remember singing, I was all of four years old, and performing something simple in a church Christmas pageant. I liked it so much that I wanted to stay on stage longer, and my older brother had to come fetch me. I sang every chance I got, after that.

My first time in front of a church congregation, I was all of seven. I sang "How Great Thou Art" at the Seventh Day Adventist church that ran the school I was attending, and loved every minute of it. By the time I hit my teens, I was singing in a school choir and a member of my church's adult choir. I sang for school programs and some community events, and every chance I got at church, including plenty of solos. I was good, and I knew it, so I took every opportunity I could get to perform. Anywhere, any time, anyhow.

This had some good effects. I got plenty of attention for my abilities, and my voice continued to improve. I got plenty of chances to meet people and learn how to be comfortable in front of crowds.

But, this also had some bad effects as well. Since this was the only thing that I did that got me positive attention, when things went wrong I was devastated. I can remember being horribly depressed for days after forgetting the lyrics during a solo at a Christmas eve service. I felt that if I couldn't do this one thing right, that maybe there was nothing I could really do well at all. I put every last bit of my self-esteem on the line, every time I went forward to perform, and if I failed, I felt as if I was a failure. That if what I did wasn't good enough, that I wasn't good enough.

This false perception has taken years to change. I had to learn that I had more than one gift to use. I had to find out that if something went wrong, it didn't make me a failure. And most of all, that my gifts and talents were not what made me of worth to God. I am of worth to Him because He chose me, not because I have something He needs. That I can please Him by being myself, not by trying to be better than everyone else around me. Not an easy thing to learn, but something I'm still working on finding out.

I still spend a lot of time singing. I am behind a microphone almost every Sunday. And, honestly, I'm pretty good at it. Not the best in the world, not the worst, but pretty good at using the gift of music that has been my most visible talent all these years. Yet, finally, I know that God loves me no matter how my next performance turns out. I am loved, as is.

It's not what you do, it's what you are. God's child, as is.

Your (singing) sis,

Darcyjo

It's not what you have...

I love books. Actually, I love just about anything to read, be it blogs, magazines, or the backs of cereal boxes on a slow day, but especially books. Enormous unabridged dictionaries to look up unusual words, children's picture books to scan and tuck away for my future grandchildren, cookbooks with a thousand different recipes for chili. Gardening books that discuss heat-loving plants, tomes of British and American history, classic science fiction that I've read over and over again. Biographies of visionaries, rulers, and rebels. Fantasy, mystery, theology. I love them all.

And you can tell it the minute you enter my apartment. My little bitty studio apartment.

I have books all over the place. On shelves, in drawers, under the bed, on my desk, in my backpack and purse and truck. I have more books than I have time to read this semester, this year, maybe even a lifetime. And they just keep coming, from thrift shops, bookstores, friends, and Paperbackswap. And I even have books in storage with my personal effects at my friend's house. Just in case I don't have enough to read, sometime in the next century, right?

Really, it's not as bad as it could be, not as bad as it has been in the past. When I moved here, at the beginning of my time at NC State, I got rid of several hundred books. I gave them to friends, to the thrift shop, to fellow members of Paperbackswap, to my church! I knew I couldn't possibly fit them in this new home of mine, not even in boxes. I had to get them out. And with great reluctance, I did so.

For a good while, I felt free. There was plenty of space, and other people would have the time to read my hoarded volumes, while I concentrated on finishing my degree. But then, I started picking them up again. A few books here and there, what could it hurt? I could save them for later, for break, for summer, I'd get to them sooner or later, right?

But I've just realized that I'm working on getting too many books. Again. And it's time to stop, or at the very least, send out books as fast as they come in. I don't have the time to read them! And what is the reason for a book? To be read, that's what.

Okay, so I have a lot fewer than I used to, I still have more than I need. And that goes for a lot of things beside books. What do I really need, anyway? How many CDs can I listen to? How many shirts can I wear, how many pairs of jeans or shoes? And how many pairs of earrings does one woman actually need? The answer is, really, a lot less than I own. And I'm betting that a lot of us can say the same thing.

No matter how cool the ads look, I am not a better person for buying things I don't need. I'm not a nicer person, a better friend, mom, singer, or student. And if I am given a certain amount in life, God didn't just give it to me to please myself with. When I'm not constantly feeding my craving for the latest and greatest by my favorite authors, I have more to give to others who can use the help. People who probably don't have way more things than they need. And that's something that makes me feel better than even the best book.

Time to read what I have, and stop browsing over at Amazon, right?

It's not what you have, it's who you are. The person God made you to be.

Your (recovering book addict) sis,

Darcyjo