Author: Celia Whitler

TEARS

Summer rain… It was sunny when I left the house the other morning. It looked so good that I even grabbed my costly sunglasses as Jesse the dancing outlaw would say. Ok, I got them from the Dollar General for $6 bucks but they make me look hot! I saw the clouds roll in but the sun was still breaking forth so I didn’t think anything of it. Not much later, it was pouring.

I don’t know how emotion comes over you… sometimes I feel them roll in like those rain clouds or like an unexpected guest who just shows up unannounced. But I have cried at least once a day for past four days, not a continuous cry, but the last 4 days I have cried for a myriad of different reasons. I have had my feelngs hurt. I mean like smashed and stepped on, the kind of moments when someone on the other line sounds mean and you want to be mean in return, but instead you get nicer, but you still cry about it. I cried over frustration, when things didn’t go my way. Before I knew it I was raising my voice and I just wanted to scream, but I thought better of it so it shows up in the form of tears. I quickly poured myself a hot bath and softened my spirit with some eucalyptus sea salts and a little quiet time. I cried when a friend was so sweet, loving, kind and encouraging and it just made me cry, which made her feel like she might have said something wrong. I was in a coffee shop and quickly grabbed those faithful sunglasses. I felt like a movie star, well like a crying movie star. Glasses do not make tears stop. People continued about their day and I wondered if they saw me and thought, “that poor women” or maybe they thought, “I bet that feels good. I could use a good cry about now.”

What is it about life that makes us tear up? Maybe it’s just life. I have cried over loss, joy, fear, embarrassment, anger, all of them, at once, at times and I think it’s part of living. Sometimes the sun shines on a rainy day. There are those moments when all is well and those when we forgot a second ago all was well. When I cry over the death of my dad or my friend Kathleen, I am thankful for those tears and memories. I picture myself, long after my death, being remembered by someone who loved me. I hope they might be laughing over something we did together or something they witnessed and before they know it, tears are mixed with joy. That’s when you know you’ve loved and been loved.

So, I guess I will be ok with the rain and with the tears in my life. I’ll embrace my tears. Cherish them.. feel them and know that where we are is where we are supposed to be. Now I’m not talking about depression or avoiding life, or about always going to a dark place for a long time. I am talking about the healthy balance that tears bring. I have had moments in these last four days where I have… laughed with a friend, sat alone and had a time to reflect on my day, read in bed while everyone was asleep in the house, walked in the woods as a soft rain fell and been grateful for all the good that comes my way and those there to sit with me when I’m going through the valley, when I’m crying behind my sunglasses.

Some days you just cry and maybe that’s ok.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

P.S. When it rained that day, the windows were down in the back seat of my car. Rain in the back of your car is not so nostalgic.

Inspiritation

Where do you find inspiration? I woke up pondering this question this morning. When I do that, I am always listening throughout the day because without a doubt I know God is trying to show me something and I should be on the look out.

Last month, my family visited Chicago to attend a surprise party for friend turning 50 — woo hoo! While in Chicago we visited a Saturday evening service at Willow Creek, a church where our friends had served on staff. The music was amazing. The waterfalls outside the windows were soothing. Hearing Bill Hybels speak about the fishing derby with children and adults for special needs was moving. But what really stirred my spirit was what happened during the sermon time, one of the pastors spoke with Catherine Rhor about the ministry with prisoners she founded in the Houston, Texas area. Right out of college she pursued a high powered job making a great money on Wall Street. Yet she kept asking herself if there was more to life. Finally she surrendered to God and prayed the prayer, “Lord Bring it!” Wow, I thought. I’m not sure I’ve prayed those exact words. I thought if you do pray those prayer, you had better be prepared for your world to be turned upside down. Following a mission trip to an orphanage for children with HIV she embraced those hurting and in need and begin to feel her life change. She was invited to speak at an all-male prison in Houston and with that acceptance came an incredible shift in her life. “Lord, bring it” brought on a new way of looking at life and a new passion she had not experienced on Wall Street. It brought compassion for others and helping them through tough times, believing everyone can make a difference simply given to tools and encouragement to do so. After one trip to the prison she began to lead classes with young men to encourage them to follow their passions and dreams and equip them for business once paroled. She finally quit her job, moved to Houston and founded a program the “Prison Entrepeneurship Program” – PEP. She said today the prayer, Lord, give us our daily bread has taken on new meaning. At the end of her interview, 3 graduates from her program spoke. One had been paroled only the day before. To say it was inspiring was an understatement. As we heard their stories and heard about the changes in their lives, the room felt lifted by the hope that was alive in their presence. We cheered as they talked about the work they were doing. I thought, as they spoke of their future, how refreshing it must be to be these three men, standing before this congregation. They seemed fearless, yet I’m sure have been in much scarier situations. They spoke with poise, grace and a confidence in themselves and in a God who always believed in who they were and in what they could achieve. I met Catherine afterwards and said, “I’d be willing to come speak or sing for your guys. Please know I’m willing and able and would love to come.” She smiled with such love and said, “You’ve said it now! When can you come?”

Inspiration — it moves me to action; it moves me to surrender; it moves me to let go of control; it moves me to look around and see what I can do today, where I am, right now.

Years ago I sang in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I have always been inspired by art and was quite a follower of Georgia O’Keeffe’s painting. While I was off on Sunday afternoon I made a visit to her museum to mainly see one of my favorite paintings of her in a series called, “Above the Clouds”. I had a book at home and was drawn to that series and to her interpretation. She said she looked out of a window of an airplane and simply painted what she saw. As I entered the room where one of her paintings of clouds was on display, I sat against the wall of the back of the room, stunned. I had no idea that it would be HUGE. It is the size of two rooms. It was grand in front of me and I was taken by my misjudgement of its size from my coffee table book back home. It was so much better in person. In front of me I saw Georgia’s vision. She wanted it to inspire. I believe that’s why she painted it so big.

What inspires you? When have you been inspired? Where do you gather inspiration? Normally for me, it’s from the everyday things — a picture of clouds, a late-night family swim under the stars, Max having a food drive with his birthday party, or my flowers that grow in spite of my neglect. Sometimes it sneaks up on me, like that morning when I heard the PEP graduates speak of their dreams and desires for the future or when I stood in the presence of that magnificent painting.

While writing this note, I spoke with our dear friends Beth and John Page whose 5-year-old daughter Tanner has bravely been battling leukemia for the last couple of weeks. (You can read about their battle here or visit her Facebook page.) — I went to the hospital and sang for Tanner and despite how badly she must have felt, she still mustered up a smile for “Over the Rainbow”. She and I talked about what kind of hat she might like to wear when she loses her hair. Now that kind of attitude inspires me. It reminds me that everyday we are faced with a decision to choose to surrender ourselves and to trust that wherever we find ourselves — we can do it with grace. Her mom and I recently went to the movies. She let me pry her out of the house. I knew she was tired and a friend of mine suggested I see if she could use some girlfriend time. She and I laughed that at the snack counter as we ordered the couples’ combo – it was a great deal!

Much of the evening she shared how Tanner has handled this with grace. I think of the 5-year-old who should be riding her bike, eating ice cream, catching fireflies. She was planning on taking swimming lessons in our pool this summer. She was having slumb-overs. (A slumb-over is where you cross the street to a friend’s house in the neighborhood with your pjs and a sleeping bag in tow. You have a bath, enjoy a snack, watch a movie at a friend’s house and then when it’s time to go to bed, you cross the street to go back home to her house for the night—I love the idea!) Now Tanner is faced with not only this disease, but with treatment and the side-effects of treatment–feeling terrible, missing out on a ton of fun kid stuff this summer, feeling different, and cares about her future. Her mom says the word that she’s surprised to use, but fits best is grace. Wow! Ok I’m inspired. Tanner has taught me, but also her mom and dad, Beth and John, our dear friends, have bravely, wearily and courageously walked each step of this with such grace. Daily in small ways they have moved me to be more grateful and more thoughtful of others. One of the best parts is that they have been transparent and honest in their response. There are things in life we don’t understand and can’t change, but we can choose how we each respond. We can choose hope each day. We can choose to live hope and grace today. We can celebrate today, to enjoy and to savor each tiny moment (I love the day they shared that Tanner was feeling good, so they had a picnic upstairs in her room.)

We have this moment and we can look for inspiration right here, in front of us. These moments of potential inspiration are the real deal. Like Catherine, Georgia and Tanner, there are those around us who would remind us that life is bigger than we are. Life is filled with inspiration, everywhere. It is more, we are more than where we find ourselves, than our circumstance or what we are going through. Our lives are a blank canvas, so paint away friends, make chocolate covered strawberries for a friend, have a picnic, order the couples combo and don’t be afraid to pray, “Lord, Bring it” and then to be on the lookout to be inspired!

Mothers’ Day 2009

As I think about the upcoming Mothers’ Day, I am mindful of what Max says when I ask him to kiss me goodnight. I tell me he loves me and say something sweet. His something sweet is the same every time and it said with the spirit of “I want you to give me something!” Moms and dads out there know the tone! He says, “You are the best mom ever!” I kiss him, tell him I love him and say something sweet back like, “You’re the best Max ever!”

Honestly, there are days when I don’t feel like the best mom ever. In concert, when I set up the song “Most of All You Were There” (It is found on our new lullabies CD and in my new gift book for women “One Wish For You” It is about our son Zach at school a few months ago. Ron and I got our trays and sat with Zach and his first grade class. Two girls immediately begun to talk to Ron and urgently want his attention, “Zach’s dad, Zach’s dad.” As Ron turned around, they said, “Zach’s dad, Zach is so gross, he’s sticks his finger up his nose.” About that time Zach interrupted quietly, “Dad, Dad.” As Ron turned around Zach said, “Dad, you know those girls you were just talking to? They bug me all the time. If I want them to leave me alone, all I have to do is stick my finger up my nose!”

Ok, I am not condoning this practice (no cards and letters, please. I have talked to him about this behavior and if you have been to one of my concerts with your children and I have told this story, I apologize.) I’m just saying no matter of talking to him is gonna keep his finger out of his nose!

As I think about Mothers day and about what makes a good/best mom, here are a few thoughts:

  • If I am any good at being a mom, it is because of all the best moms I am around and that have learned from. I try to pay attention. I think of one mom I babysat for. Her 5-year daughter showed her a picture that she had drawn at school. The mom gently said, “I bet that picture makes you feel so proud and happy. I am delighted to see what you have created, tell me about it.” And then the mom listened intently to the explanation. I also remember the daughter who told me that her mom stood at the front door everyday before the daughter left for school and told her, “You are amazing!” The daughter told me that everyday she walked out of my door believing that I was amazing and capable of whatever I would encounter. Another friend told me that when her son lost his temper one day and began to yell and cry, he said “what’s really wrong is that I miss dad and I’m so sad he died.” She sat down and said, “me, too” and they had a long cry together.
  • I guess I have been a student all my life and will always be. When it comes to becoming the best mom I can be. The best mom’s encourage, apologize, empathize, aren’t afraid to say, “I’m sorry,” aren’t scared to say, “I didn’t do that so well,…I’m gonna get better,” handle the most joyous times with humility and most challenging moments with grace. One of my favorite compliments was received while having dinner with the President of our alma mater, Centenary College of Louisiana, Dr. Kenneth Schwab and other members of the faculty and my family. Our best behavior would have been very appropriate and we even had a family talk about it prior to the event. It was one of those events that a sitter would’ve been great for, but it was an opportunity for my sons to be exposed to an event that was good for them. It was after I spoke at the President’s day convocation to the student body a few years ago. While we had dinner in the cafeteria, my boys were quite busy and entertaining. Zach played his armpit during the dessert, as I tried to silence him while keeping my composure. My aunt Dinah came up to me and whispered in my ear, “Celia, I can tell not only how much you love the boys, but you all really like each other.” I feared I would be judged as my friends and my aunts, yet I was embraced with such a sweet compliment that made the lunch feel right at home.
  • If I am becoming my best mom, it is because of others who parent along side me. One reason is because I am raising my boys with a best dad. Ron Whitler makes me a better mom simply because he is an incredible dad. I am more than blessed. Most days I feel my life is a dream. I am constantly receiving these outlandish moments — they are gifts. Daily in small ways, he gives over and over all he has. We are partners in this and I am thankful everyday that we are walking this earth together and that Max and Zach know and are known by their father. He is slow to anger and quick to compassion. He is fun, caring and can still swing from a rope swing into a river with the best of ‘em–he did it last week.
  • I truly feel we cannot do it alone. Even when we feel as if we are working alone. There are those who help, who fill in, who nurture, who parent alongside us–dads, grandparents, neighbors, doctors, teachers, Sunday school volunteers, counselors, coaches, aunts, uncles, cousins, church members, babysitters and friends. They all make me better as a mother. They quilted my journey as a child. I have often thought of ways my mother did the best she could and about how many others filled in the gaps. I am counting on that with my own sons. There are so many ways I am going to fall short and so many wonderful mothering my two will receive from other people. Thank goodness I do not have to do this alone and I believe our children are better when we raise them together. When I had Max, we traveled so much and there were so many who held him as I sang. I always thought he wasn’t just mine and I still feel that way. I so wanted to share him with the world and for all of us to love him. I think of those children without mothers, even those times I have been in the park and seen a child be mean to another beyond the sight of an adult. I have gently stepped in and said a word. I am counting on you to do the same with my sons.
  • Each night I pray that God would make me more loving. I have so many days when I know that I am not my best. I have lost my temper before 8 am. I have said the mean thing, when I knew self control was a better option. I have forgotten the class tee shirt for the field trip. ok that happened two days ago, it was the right color, so it was 2 sizes too small because it was little brothers from last year. Instead of sharing shame, Max, when I saw it was the wrong one shared grace. “Mom, no worries,” he quickly said, “and I’ll wear it on field day, too. It was the right color, who cares if it doesn’t have an eagle [mascot] on it.”
  • I am much harder on myself than anyone else is on me about my performance as a mother. I know if the super Nanny came to my house today, it would be a two hour show! So I am on my knees saying a prayer that one friend shared with me a couple of years ago, “Lord, you got me in this mess, so you are going to have to get me out.” I continue to go study the fruits of the Spirit — Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I also revisit the love chapter: I Corinthians, Chapter 13. I guess I would say that I am the best at trying, the best at looking for ways to improve. Maybe that needs to be on a plaque that I can look at each day. I have always joked that I heard the first 30 years are the hardest for a mom, but I know that isn’t true. When I delivered those two boys I played U2 and BB King’s version of When Love Came to Town in the delivery room and I believe it is true. Love did come into my life as it never had before.

I just tucked love into bed for the night with their favorite blankets, bear and dog… nite nite … mommy loves you!

God could not be everywhere and therefore He made mothers.
Jewish proverb

In the Palm of God’s Hand

“Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m being held in the palm of God’s hand.”

I heard that today and I thought, me too. What does it really mean to feel held in the palm of God’s hand? I’ve always thought it meant that I am trusting that God has got me–that no matter what I am going through, I am held. I am supported. I am able to relax and to know that someone else is carrying me.

I love the story in the gospel of Mark of the four friends who carry the paralytic man to Jesus. The amazing part of that story is what Christ says to the them is that it was because of their faith the man was healed.

What must it have felt like to have been carried by those four? Has someone ever carried you? Your face is in their face, there is no where to hide. That man had to allow those friends to carry him. He had to be willing to receive their help. So many times others have lifted me. So many times I have needed help. Why is it that we are a group of folks who are so comfortable giving to others, yet receiving we are not so great at. We go out of our way to do something, something big or small to show others we are there for them, yet saying ok I am in over my head here and I need some help is not only difficult, it can be almost unbearable. We would rather stand on the deck and sink rather than sending out a mayday. It doesn’t make sense, but I am here to confess that I do it too.

Recently I was really behind the eight ball with a small travel detail I was trying to work out. It was really not that big of a deal, but I called a friend, who I knew would understand it. I said, “ok help me brainstorm some solutions for this situation.” A single thought came out of her mouth about how she could help and my dilemma was solved. I felt so silly. Such a burden was lifted and she kept saying, “this is not that big of a deal.” I had fretted, worried, dreamed and problem solved, all alone of course. The minute I opened it up and let someone in, it was done.

What, my friends, are you waiting for? There may be something in your life that you feel is too overwhelming, too difficult, too shameful or like me, too complicated to find a solution for. That’s a lie, but you have to share it. The thing that’s hard is that you have to tell someone about it before it can be resolved.

The same is true with God. I want God to guess what I need, to guess what is troubling me. I am sure it is already known, but there is something wonderful about surrendering and resting in the palm of God’s hands. The first part of that is rest.

This past weekend while at a youth retreat, I encouraged the youth to find someone to get knee to knee with to share what is going on in their lives, to trust that God has provided and is providing what they need, if they would simply look around. The last night of the event one of the students on the retreat sent me an email. He had spoken with one of his youth leaders and he said, “I feel a burden has been lifted, like I have taken one step closer to God.” Ok, I need to take my own advice, that we would share each others burdens, that we would turn to God at these times and lay our burdens down. I know is the desire of a God who spoke, time and again, a simple message that we are not alone.

Acting locally in Franklin, TN

This past week, we volunteered as a family at Graceworks Ministries in Franklin. We placed food from the pantry shelves into grocery carts. Those carts will stock the pantries of families throughout Williamson county who are experiencing need. As we filled the grocery carts with food, Max and Zach (our sons) noticed that the pantry was short of several specific items. Our boys really hated having to pass over an empty space on a shelf, especially if it was food that they liked.

It was wonderful to work together as a family to make a difference, especially with an age appropriate task for our children. Afterward, we decided to pass this list of shortages on and encourage you to help fill these specific food needs.

Here’s the list of shortages we noticed: Crackers, Canned evaporated milk, powdered milk, Laundry detergent, liquid dish detergent, Juliced and other drinks, pancake mix and syrup, paper towels, kleenex, toothbrushes, shampoo and conditioner.

The majority of local Publix and Kroger stores have bins for donation or you can take items to Graceworks. They are located at 104 Southeast Parkway, Suite 100, Franklin, TN 37064 / 794-9055 / Graceworks Website

The next time you’re at the grocery store, consider picking up one or more items and dropping them in the bin. If you forget and then remember on your way out of the store, at least look for the bin and make a note of its location. On future trips you might consider making a habit of adding an item or more to your list for the bin each time you stop in for groceries.

If you have another pantry you support, you might see what they are lacking.

Thanks, the Whitler family – Zach, Max, Celia and Ron

Pouring

What do you pour yourself into? I was out walking Lilly, our dachshund 2 weeks ago. It was quite late and the stars were brilliant. Over our yard In front of me was the Big Dipper, majestic and looming. I have always been able to find the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper because they pour into each other. As I stood in the cold and thought of the new year, I found myself reflecting on the question, “what do I pour myself into?” My mind wandered through some related questions, “What do I allow to be poured into me? What am I passionate about? What captures me, my time, my energy, my money, my ears, my eyes, my attention?”

A few days later on a morning television show, two ladies were talking about new year’s resolution. One mentioned she liked to have a word for the year. Just one word that she focused on all year… and I drifted back to my Big Dipper experience and the word “pour.”

That’s my word for 2009, “pour.” I had coffee with a friend at Starbucks and I mentioned my word. She said, “That’s great” and I asked her what her word might be and after a few moments she smiled and said, “do.” I know her and “do” fits her!

What’s your word for this year? Where are you going to grow, to be passionate, to give, to pour yourself?

During the holidays, Ron and I spoke of looking for ways each week that our family might help someone else. We were looking for something our family could do together. This past week we went to a local food pantry operated by Graceworks Ministries. The folks there were wonderful. As we waited in the lobby for our job to begin, a young mom with her two children sat filling out paper work for aid. Our boys played with her children. I thought of the countless number of people that need a hand during these tough times. Carol, the volunteer coordinator, greeted us and described our job for the day, I knew we were in for a wonderful journey. We worked together filling shopping carts with food that families in need would pick up. Ron and I each worked with one of our sons. Carol talked to us about the families they help and the churches and groups that stock their warehouse she said, “it looks like a lot of food, right?” We gazed at rows of food. Then she said this pretty much has to last until May. We get food from folks to help out, but we’ve already given out more food this year than we did last year. As we walked the isles to fill our carts, Max and I would come up to an area that was empty and he’d say, “Mom what are we gonna do?” “I guess we’ll have to skip it, Max, and go to the next thing.” “Mom, we need to go by the grocery store and tell our friends what they need. People would help if they knew, right?”

So we are gonna send out an email blast to friends in our town and you might do the same in your town. Make a trip to your local food pantry and see what their needs are. I love that Max, Zach, Ron and I experienced it and poured ourselves into an afternoon of compassion. I could have been that mom filling out paper work with my two kids. In our small way, we made a difference for a few families this week.

Last month, I spoke about the loss of my friend, Kathleen Baskin-Ball. I called another friend of mine, Billy Crockett, to tell him about her last days. I remembered an event Billy and I did years ago with Kathleen. After the evening ended, Kathleen said to me, “look Celia, you and Billy must keep writing and singing songs about those on the margins, those hurting, those not seen, those in need. More important than singing, you must go there, go with me to Mexico or to East Dallas, go and experience it yourselves and then you can’t help but share what you have seen. You can’t help but be moved by what you have witnessed. It becomes apart of you and you’re changed. It’s more than just singing, writing, volunteering or giving money. It becomes who you are. It’s no longer theirs or mine, it’s ours.” She was right about a lot of things and she poured herself into a life of practicing what she preached.

I want to live a life in which I pour myself into eternal things, but honestly I fall short day after day. I never went to Mexico with Kathleen, regardless of how many times she invited me. I always had something else I was doing during her trips. I guess I thought, I’d get to it later. I spent 2 whole hours today searching for my favorite winter knit hat. How trivial is that! It’s brown with a color band around the top. If you find it let me know. I miss the mark day after day, but lots of days I’m on my knees surrendering (myself and my hat).

My prayers are for you and I as we embark on the days ahead, that we’d know the gift that is Christ and each other; that we would know the awe and gratitude for creation, for the Creator and that we’d pour ourselves into eternal thing; that we’d look for new ways for our churches, schools, families, ways each of us would turn ourselves toward each other and give selflessly; that we would be light that others not only see but experience.

Shine on friends,

Celia

A Life Well Lived

HEY FROM ME (AND MY NEW FRIEND PETE) “A Life Well Lived”

I put together a house concert for a friend on Friday, November 28th (the day after Thanksgiving). I could tell you the whole story, but one of the songwriters who sang said it so well that I thought I’d pass his words along. I’ll add more at the end of his note.

(A note from Pete Sallis, Tuesday, 12/2/08 @ 10:09 PM)

A life well lived…

The day after Thanksgiving, I was asked along with Nicole Witt, Brian White, and Billy Montana, to fly down to Dallas. Celia Whitler asked us to come down to play our songs to celebrate Celia’s friend Kathleen Baskin-Ball. Kathleen has been bravely battling cancer for a couple years now to find out that it had spread. So, what did Kathleen decide to do with her 10 or so days she was told she had left? Celebrate!! One of the many things she loved was music, so she wanted to spend last Friday night with family, friends, and music. We arrived to find the street lined with cars that any valet service would be jealous of, a lawn filled with white paper bags lit up with candles inside and inspirational messages written on the outside, and a sweet quaint house right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. We were greeted by a smiling Kathleen in the front yard, so gracious that we would fly down and take the time out to come and play for her. Just one look at her and you felt like you’d known her your whole life. Her eyes were bright and her spirit was on fire – soaking up every moment like a flower savors the rain.

Walt Wilkins drove a couple hours from Austin to be a part of the evening because he’d heard how much of a fan Kathleen was of his. In all, we ended up playing a couple hours of songs that were funny, reverent, emotional, and uplifting. Throughout the night, I couldn’t help but notice how tears would suddenly hit different people, and how unique laughter looked when mixed with the fresh remnants of tears. It was a surreal experience to say the least. We ended the night listening to Nicole singing a stirring acapella “Oh Holy Night”, and divine it truly was. As we packed up our guitars, Kathleen asked me what my favorite food was and I said lasagna is in my top 5 – to which I thought she was going to wrap up some of the leftovers from the kitchen – and she said “..I’ll make sure its ready and warm when you get to heaven…” It was hard to keep it together, but how can you break down when the one who has every right to lose it is smiling with a blessed assurance that all is well.

I can only pray that I would have an ounce of the dignity that Kathleen showed us all that night. We all have a terminal disease called “life” that none of us will escape. Some might even think its a blessing to know when you’re gonna go so that you could live like you’re dying. Well, everyday is a gift and every day we have a choice to unwrap it or leave it under the tree. So I pray for all of us to make the most of what God has given us and cherish what really matters. It ain’t “the next song we write” or what “artist is cutting” or “the best gig or songwriting deal”, like Kathleen knew, its family, friends, and the quality of experience we soak in that make up this short but colorful fabric called life.

So we all came back a little different and changed for the better, moved by Kathleen’s faith, and nudged a little bit to try and be more like her. It is with a solemn heart to say I found out today that she left this earth to go be with God. My prayers are for her husband Bill, her 4-year-old son Skyler, her family, and the multitude of friends whose lives were brushed with the presence of an angel’s wings.

(* This is Celia again)…. The house concert was incredibly rich. It was about life, not about loss.

I have been fortunate to journey with Kathleen for the last two decades of our lives. I am thankful to her husband, Bill, her son Skyler and their families who have been so gracious to let me be a part of Kathleen’s courageous battle with cancer. It has been filled with laughter, tears, grace, faithfulness, sadness and hope. I was humbled to be with her for her last breath and also to celebrate her life at her memorial service.

During these last two years, I have prayed for a miracle and know in my heart a true miracle happened. Those of us who were touched by Kathleen’s life and faith, who believe as she did that “light will have the last word” know that she was the miracle … the way she lived… the way she loved…the way she shared her faith and spoke of the love and truth of Christ she bore witness to daily…the way she believed in the wonder of God’s unrelenting grace. She once wrote to me, “I thank God that our paths crossed and then in awesome unity moved straight toward all that is holy.” I feel the same way about her.

Thank you to Pete, Nicole, Billy, Brian, Walt and Ron for more than a wonderful night… for being a part of a journey that changed us all.

LINKS: I brought six songwriters’ to the concert. Here are links in case you want to sample a little of the flavor that we shared that Friday night in the living room.

Billy Montana
Pete Sallis
Brian White
Walt Wilkins
Nicole Witt

Four other singers and/or songwriters joined us that night: Doug and Jill Bryan (from Greenland Hills UMC, a former church Kathleen had served) and Katlyn Baskin and Jessica Newport (two of Kathleen’s nieces).

Here’s a link to a collection of information about Kathleen’s life and ministry, including several items from the Dallas Morning News.

On Unslumping Yourself

In the words of Dr. Seuss “Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.”

Slump – verb slumped, slumping – To fall or sink suddenly; sag or slouch: slumps A sudden fall or decline. The baseball player went into a slump and struck out 8 times in a row.

We have been playing little league baseball this fall. Well some of us have. Max and Zach are on the same team, the Reds, this year because of their close age. We thought this was a wonderful idea and it has been. There’s less scheduling and less hassle. It’s just more efficient to be on the same team, with the same practices and the same schedule (we were on two different teams last fall). Things were trucking right along. We met the coaches. We met the other parents. The boys got along great and the games began. Max and Zach did well in practice. As the games began a few months ago we all seemed to be having a fine time, until as Max likes to call it (cue the sound effects), “dah, dah, dah… the slump.” It happened suddenly and without warning. It snuck up on us all. One game Max was hitting the ball and then he wasn’t. There was on one single cause, one time he swung too late, one time too early, one time he was too close to the plate, another too far, one time he lifted his head, once he had more of a golf swing than a baseball swing. It’s enough to make a mom go crazy, I tell you. In the middle of Max’s slump, Zach hit a homerun. Through it all it was amazing to watch Max wrestle with, in the car one day he said, “Mom, I’m in a slump!” “Yep,” I said, “what are you gonna do about it?” “Well,” he said, “unslumping is tough, but I know I can and I believe.” Each week he went to practices and games and gave it his best shot. Never getting mad, never envying Zach for his hits, doubles and even the home run. Max kept his head in the game and kept believing. One coach in particular kept encouraging him, “you can do it Max. I know you can.”

And then as soon as it came, it left. This past Tuesday, it happened. We were playing the undefeated Lookouts (named for the Chattanooga, Tennessee minor league team). Max got a hit and off he ran to first base. There was jumping, screaming, cheering, his coach who was pitching came off the mound to congratulate Max (it’s machine pitch, with your own coach loading the pitching machine). It was a moment.

It got me thinking about my own life, about my slumps and about how I get stuck. It creeps up slowly sometimes and in others almost instantly. We think to ourselves, “what in the world have I gotten myself into and how can I get out of this.” Sometimes, that is just it. We cannot. I cannot. I need help. Max needed help, he needed practice, a different stance, a different swing. He needed to listen to advice from his coaches and he needed to keep his eye on the ball. When he stepped up to the plate, he didn’t need to be thinking about all the changes he was making. He needed to naturally trust that he was gonna hit the ball! Most of all he needed to believe he could do it! Ok, I get it. If I were honest, I get it sometimes. I cannot do this on my own. I do need help.

I’m not even sure how to describe my slumps or how to prescribe what is needed, but there are days when I feel a decline, a fall, a sag or a slouch. As Dr. Suess said in “Oh the Places You’ll Go”, “And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.

Last night, I was leaving baseball practice, when my cell phone rang. I had forgotten about my book club meeting. It was my turn to bring snacks and, Ugh, I forgot. My friend was calling to say, “hey where are you? We are hungry!” So after a mad dash through the grocery store, I was climbing out of the car with my hands full of sacks of snacks. I was late, I was stressed and my slump had found me again. I wanted to put my pajamas on and go to sleep. As I was climbing out of the car, Zach looked at me with his sweet face and said., “Mom, don’t be embarrassed. It happens. They are you’re friends!” Ok; everyone gets in a slump. Everyone gets bogged down. Everyone gets stuck, forgets something and falls short… everyone.

Some of my un-slumping happens when I go to the beach. Some of it happens when I go for a walk with a friend. Other times an unexpected call or hearing a congregation sing a hymn that’s centuries old at the top of their lungs. Sometimes it happens when I sit in my red chair and read, listen and pray.

This week I got the privilege of hearing Bishop Rueben Job speak about his book, “Three Simple Rules.” They are (1) do no harm, (2) do all the good you can and (3) stay in love with God. For years, he has modeled his life after these simple principals, beginning each day with them and reflecting each night on them. Today I did the same. I sat quietly before the boys woke up and simply opened his book. I have had the books for months, I have picked it up and turned it over. Consider this Prayer at the Beginning of the Day from Bishop Job’s “Three Simple Rules.” “Loving Teacher, come and make your home in our hearts this day. Dwell within us all day long and save us from error or foolish ways. Teach us today to do no harm, to do good, and assist us so that we may stay in loving relationship with you and our neighbor. Help us today to be an answer to another’s prayer so that we may be one of your signs of hope in the world you love.”

Maybe that’s it for me. Instead of concentrating on the slumps of my life, helping others in their slumps, reaching out, cheering for others. I need to keep playing, keep being involved and keep believing. Please know that you are not alone and keep believing that you are amazing. When I turn my attention off of myself and turned toward others, it somehow happens. As Dr. Suess reminds us, “You’ll move mountains. So be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O’Shea, you’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! You’re mountain is waiting. So get on your way!”

On a side note… Zach had his own slump, but pulled out as well. It happens.

Go Reds! Celia

PS Thanks to the Phillies last night for driving home my point about the possibility of unslumping yourself after a 28 year drought.