Americana god

Good evening,

I just woke up from a day-long nap. My boss asked me to leave work this morning, stating that "I need to take care of myself if I want to take care of other people". The man has a point. Although, my current cold is definitely the kind that makes you sound far sexier when you talk... it certainly makes my job as a music therapist a little more difficult. So, needless to say, I went home... fell asleep... and woke up feeling quite a bit better. So, my thoughts tonight, be them important, come from a state of mind that may be a bit affected by Aleve and Sudafed.

Ok, so... I am tired of worshipping an 'Americana god'. I am ashamed to say that, at times, my idea of who God is has become as common place as apple pie and baseball. In this world of Tivo and Ipods, it's so easy to put the Lord in a box. For me, it's pretty simple to see God in things like Ohio sunsets or Iowa farmland. It's easy to see how Christ moves in the life of a child on the first day of school or a man in the final stage of life. But it's far more difficult for me to see God outside of the "lower 48". Literally and figuratively. I, far to often, trap the Lord in this box of American greatness along with things like Independence day and mint chocolate chip ice cream, but our God is greater than that. The God that paints the Ohio sunsets is the same God that places the stars over the African plains. The God that sculpted the Iowa landscape is the same God that created the London Fog. Not only does the Lord transcend my box of Americana, but, as it says in Philippians 4:7, He transcends our understanding. I am continually amazed by how immense our God is and how small I seem to be in comparison. When you look at who God is apart from the Americana we know... it is clear that the Lord is far greater than I often give Him credit for. When I (slowly but surely) take God out of the box that I have unknowingly forced Him into, I am able to understand the vastness that is the Lord God. So yes, I am tired of worshipping an "Americana god". I am tired of foolishly placing Christ along side of things like hot dogs and blue jeans, but above all else...

I'm just tired.

God is Bigger~
Tempa

Shout Out!!

I don't have time to write much tonight, but I do want to tell everyone about a new, up-and-coming artist that I have recently become addicted to. Her name is Anna Nalick. I'm sure you've heard her song "Breathe (2AM)" in movies or maybe even on the radio (although Im not sure). Regardless of if you have or have not actually heard Ms. Nalick... her music is great. It's reminiscent of Jewel back before Jewel sold out to become a "pop star". You know, the "Foolish Games" Jewel, when she was still proud of the fact that her teeth are crooked. Anyway... Anna Nalick writes her own music. Music that is, consequently, some of the most singable new tunes I've heard in a while. She writes things leave you thinking, things I wish I could write. She sings in this low husky voice, the voice I wish I had. It's definitely the kind of music they would use on Dawson's Creek if Dawson's Creek were still around. It would be played over climactic argument scenes or softly playing the background during over-dramatic, life-altering conversations. In short, Anna Nalick's music is some eclectic mixture of Sarah McLachlan, Michelle Branch, and Kelly Clarkson melting together with other voices of folky female angst to make a sound and style that is simply "Anna Nalick."

$9.99 at your local Target... It would be worth the 10 spot! :)

"2Am and I'm still awake writing a song..."
Tempa

Words

Hi there,

Now, if you know me (or if you have read any number of these blog entries) you know that I am a fan of talking. Not in the "she likes to hear the sound of her own voice" kind of way, but I really like words. Since I was a kid, I've always wondered what guy sat down and thought of each word originally. Who sat down to eat in the evening and said "Dinner"? Who put arm rests on a short bed and said "SOFA"? Things like that boggle my mind. There are some words that make me laugh, some that are heart-warming and others that I have absolutely no idea what they mean, but like using them as much as possible.

So in the spirit of list making and to honor my love for the lexicon... I have for you the following:

WORDS THAT MAKE ME SMILE: Tweed, Wasabi, Ambrosia, Bongo,
WORDS THAT ARE MEANINGFUL TO ME: Heaven, Autumn, Friendship, Weekend
WORDS I HATE: Panties, Moist, Yummy, Tissue
WORDS I CAN'T DEFINE: filibuster, Saffron, Riboflavin
WORDS YOU SHOULD BE IMPRESSED THAT I CAN DEFINE: Gerrymandering, lukocyte, serendipitous, monotonous
WORDS I CAN'T PRONOUNCE: Rural, Roar, 'Rufus Wainwright', 'Sixth Sense'
WORDS THAT SHOULD BE SPELLED DIFFERENTLY: Receipt, pasteurized, rhythm
BEST WORD OVERALL: Ambrosia
WORST WORD OVERALL: Moist

Goodnight friends,
Tempa

Im like a bird...

I remember back in 2000 (or somewhere around then) Nelly Furtado had a song out called "I'm like a bird". I will be the first to tell you that I always thought that song was ridiculous. Not only could I not decipher the lyrics through her constant squawking, I never really understood what the lyrics were actually trying to say. Until this morning. This morning, I felt some weird connection to that unintelligible song.

For the last few days, I have gotten up with the sun. Once you start getting up every day at 7:00, it's hard to make it stop. Anyway, as I pull the cord on the blinds to let in the aforementioned sun, I am greeted by a small brown bird who has seemingly signed up to spend the mornings on the edge of the pine tree outside my window. This bird, whom I have affectionately named Stevie, sits there singing his little bird song for the duration of my morning devotions and before I leave the comfort of my bed to shower, he chirps a little louder and takes flight. He takes flight directly into my bedroom window.

Now, I am not a huge fan of birds, but the first time it happened I flew from under my chocolate brown comforter and made sure Stevie's broken bird carcass wasn't embedded in the bushes. When I saw him perched back on his branch, I couldn't help but chuckle. I have watched this bird several times throughout the week and it is always the same routine of sitting, singing and smashing into my window. I began to wonder about my little bird Stevie. Why would he continue to attempt the flight and what is he thinking as he sings that last song before take off?

I realized, one of those mornings, that Stevie and I aren't all that different. Every morning he sits on his branch and sings. A branch that he has come to know as "his branch". It's comfortable and maybe he has even made a few friends from spending his mornings on that branch... the squirrel on the ground below or the robin in the tree next door. Whatever the reason, he loves mornings on my pine tree. Once he musters up the strength, he sings goodbye to the comfortable place he's come to love and excitedly takes off for a new start. He gets a running start and then SMASH... an obstacle. Stevie, being the persistent little bird that he is, finds his way back to the branch only to start again the next morning.

I feel a strange connection with that bird. Like his new start every morning is MY new start every morning. Like his obstacles are my obstacles. Now, I know that comparing myself to a sparrow (im guessing, I have no idea if he's a sparrow) may seem insane and I'm not all too sure that I explained my thought process very well, but maybe you'll see where I'm going with it. In short, Stevie and I aren't all that different. I muster up the strength to start anew with many different aspects of my life on a daily basis and I may crash into a bedroom window now and again, but I'll always find my way, singing, back to my branch.

"I'm like a bird..."
Tempa