Christmas Music Lyrics, Day 2

In order to get this in before today is over (where does time go?!?) I'll let the lyrics speak for themselves:

A song of forgiveness, comforting peace
A time to remember what life really means
The important things

I guess it’s Christmas
And we’ll all join hands to celebrate the goodness
That shines inside of everyone

Open our hearts so we can open our arms

*NSYNC

Christmas Music Lyrics, Day 1

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: Song lyrics are often very powerful to me. They capture my feelings and thoughts in ways that are profound.

This is perhaps especially true at Christmas time:

“As we prepare for Christmas, shopping and decorating fill our days, while parties and renewing old friendships bring us excitement.

But always in the background—in the malls, in stores, on the radio and in churches—being sung by choices, children, and carolers is the music that serves to remind us of the reason for the season. 

Christmas songs are one of the oldest traditions of the holiday, and these memorable sounds help recapture the true spirit of Christmas."

-The Sounds of Christmas, by Pam Griffin

Between now and Christmas I want to highlight some words from Christmas songs that speak to my soul.

Day one:

A few years ago I went to see First Date on Broadway (speaking of lyrics that speak to my soul!) and I purchased their Carols for the Cure CD that year. The cast from Matilda sings a song that I love:

“Bring a little joy into the world

For those who don’t have any

Give a little smile to a boy or girl –

It doesn’t cost a penny

Make some time to play for the Holiday

We could all use plenty

Bring a little joy into the world”

There are so many things that don’t cost a penny that can brighten people’s lives. I love this truth.

In addition to that principle, I also love this additional line later in the song:

“Grumpy people need joy, too

Bring a little joy into the world

If you turn no into maybe

Don’t let your heart get lazy.”

It is easy to share with those we love, with those who are kind and grateful. But it is equally rewarding, and perhaps more impactful, when we are willing and able to share love and kindness with those who  are “grumpy” or when it is harder to do so.

Goal based on these lyrics: Don’t let my heart get lazy!

“I Can Help You”

“I can help you,” the cashier said, looking up as I walked into the bank.

And he did.

That moment of exchanged smiles and assistance in my busy day faded as I got bogged down in all that followed.

Coming home late that night it was dark and cold. My heart was heavy. I angled my bike as I must to be able to open the first door into my building. I put the key in, then found myself remembering another forgotten moment of assistance.

…..

“Here, let me help you,” Jenn said, jumping out of her car.

You’ve already helped me so much just by driving me home and listening to me! I wanted to say.

“I don’t know how you do this by yourself all the time,” she exclaimed as, together, we unlocked the doors and brought my bike into the building.

I smiled and laughed, thanked her, and then we parted ways.

Pushing my bike down the hallway, I contemplated how we manage to find a way to make things work when we have to. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be better if we had help.

…..

Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the woman inside my building until she was opening the second door for me, offering assistance in my moment of need. “Thank you!” I told her with a big smile.

She smiled back. We wished each other “Have a good night”’s and parted richer for the brief interaction.

I needed those reminders of the value and impact of little things.

Lately, I’ve been focusing on a desire to do BIG things. Or, perhaps more accurately, a fear that the things I am doing are not important or impactful enough.

Little things definitely add up. There may be BIG things that I can do now, or work towards in the future. But, I want to be more aware of and attentive to the chance to open a door to someone who could use an extra hand in that moment, or the chance to do what I do on a regular basis (like the cashier at the bank) that enables me to help others move forward on their journey.

Reflecting the Light of Christ

Spending time in nature is always restorative to my soul.

It is also a place where insights seem to flow more freely. Sometimes directly to me, other times through those I am with.

On a recent weekend trip to New Hampshire, I heard an analogy that really resonates with me, so I want to share it with a wider audience.

At the campground, there was a peaceful lake that reflected the beauty of the surrounding area all day long. 

In the evening I went down with a friend to take pictures of the sunset. It was stunning.

Nearby, a father and his daughter were enjoying the grandeur as well. This little girl had eyes to see (see 2 Kings 6:17 and Ezekiel 12:2). She commented that the lake was beautifully reflecting the perfection of the light from the sunset.

In our church services the next morning, the father recounted the experience with his daughter, and posed a question that pierced my heart:

“Do I reflect the light of Christ in the same way a lake reflects a sunset?”

The reflection in the lake wasn’t perfect. There were ripples and imperfections on its surface. But the reflected light and color were still magnificent.

God’s love is like that sunset. Perfect, breathtaking, awe-inspiring.

We are like that lake. Full of ripples and imperfect inconsistencies.

The ripples and imperfections in our lives do not diminish the light of Christ. Others still see His light and can feel His love as we seek to reflect it to those around us.

And that reflection is still beautiful.

One Year Older and Wiser Too?

When I was a child I attended Primary each Sunday as part of my church worship services. When it was someone’s birthday we would sing a song to celebrate and often there would be a special crown to wear or a little card for those with birthday’s that month. 

One of those songs has always stuck with me:

“You’ve had a birthday, shout hooray.
We want to sing to you today.
One year older and wiser too.
Happy Birthday (clap) to you!”

As another birthday comes and goes, I have to ask, “Am I wiser this year than I was last year?”

I’m not sure. But I have enjoyed looking back at birthdays from the past while contemplating that question!

I was talking to a friend about two types of birthday experiences I’ve had: the beautiful under the radar memories and the awkward “You found out it’s my birthday, now what do we do?” moments.

One year while in college I went with some friends to a favorite swimming hole on my birthday. I’d always wanted a water party growing up, and going to school in Southern Virginia made that possible. You had to hike back into the woods a bit and there was a big rock in the middle of a wide, lazy river that created a pool deep enough to jump into. No one there knew it was my birthday – but that was part of why it was a perfect birthday in my mind. I was with people I loved, laughing and soaking in the warmth of the sun and the friendship I was surrounded by.

Another under the radar year in graduate school, I invited over some friends to have homemade biscuits and jam. I didn’t need them to know this was in honor of my birthday, I just needed them to know I valued spending time with them. And I needed to feel connected to others.

On the awkward end, the first year I moved to Boston, I signed up to attend a dinner group through my church. I didn’t know anyone in the group before I went, I didn’t want them to feel pressured to celebrate me. So, I didn’t tell anyone. But, as my phone kept buzzing through dinner, I felt rude. I felt compelled to explain. (Looking back now, I wonder why I didn’t just turn my phone off for the duration of dinner!)

I apologized for the interruptions, explaining that it was my birthday and that was why my phone kept buzzing. The host for the dinner group said she wished she had known so she could have baked me a cake (and I was glad she didn’t because I would have been embarrassed by the fuss made about me).

You see, I’m the kind of person who generally doesn’t like a big deal to be made about me. While I don’t love attention on me, I do love the chance my friends and family’s birthday’s provide for me to reach out in love – to share memories, to thank them for their positive impact in my life.

At some point, I realized that I should extend that same opportunity to others. I can allow others to know about my special day. I can learn to handle with grace the way attention makes me uncomfortable.

I hope I have grown wiser. And I hope I continue to do so. I am grateful for all the people in my life who make my life an adventure. For those who support me. For those who laugh and cry with me. For those who have come and gone and for those who are here for the long haul.

Just Tell Them It Was A Big Mistake

"Do you play the piano?"

I chuckled my awkward chuckle.

"I know there have to be closet piano players in here."

"Well, I've been thinking I should start playing again - but it has been years since I played." I said, knowing immediately it was a mistake that I said anything at all - should have stuck with my awkward chuckle or a sweet smile and nod.

"Great, I'll give you the pressure you need to practice! I'll be in France for the next two weeks and we need someone to play in Relief Society."

"Ah," was all I got out.

"Don't worry, they can't fire a volunteer. I'll let them know you'll pick the songs."

-------------------------------------------------------------
So, I started practicing.

Let's just be clear. I took piano lessons more than 15 years ago for about 5 years, that was my parents required time length. I got out a little early because I also started playing the flute, and I was so over scheduled in high school that they made me a deal, letting me off early for good behavior.

Let's also be clear about this - when I say it's been years since I played the piano, I mean years. Maybe three times, mostly at Christmas time, over the past 3-5 years I've sat down and played a song on the piano. It's been at least six years since I played while anyone sang. [NOTE: for those of you who don't play the piano, it's a whole new ballgame to play once someone starts singing!]

On top of that, even when I did play, I can count on one hand the number of time I made it through a song while people sang without a major mistake [read people are singing while I'm not playing because I messed up so much and/or no right notes are played over multiple measures].

I decided to be brave, and I played while people were listening, and a five year old came in to listen to me.

"What have I done?" I asked him. "What was I thinking? I don't think I can do this."

He just looked at me, confused.

"The problem is, when people start singing, it goes like this," I said, then put my hands down on lots of random keys at the same time. I told them I could play the piano, but I really can't."

"Just tell them you made a big mistake, that you can't do it" his sweet, open face looked up at me.

I was tempted to do just that. Surely someone else could play.

Later he told his mom how when I play and people sing, "it goes like this" and he air plopped his hands on piano keys. "I told her to say it was just a mistake."

"That's right, it's okay to make mistakes," she told him. She was talking about the mistake of not playing the right notes, not the mistake of having volunteered.

She is right. It is okay to make mistakes. And all the cliche sayings about it not mattering how many times you fall, it only matters that you get back up one more time than the number of times you fall - they are all true, too.

I did it. I only played the top hand of the requested song. And I did not play it well. But I did it.

I was reminded that doing hard things is hard, but also empowering. And it makes doing other hard things easier.

My advice: volunteer for something hard. And if it doesn't go well, remember, it's okay to make mistakes, even big ones.