Hello...again!

Well, it's been a long time...

I could comment on what all has happened since my last post, but I don't think I have the fortitude to write it or that you have the time to read it. If you have kept up with all of us, then you probably know everything. If you haven't, you probably don't need to know...what is significant in our eyes might not mean a thing to you, so there you have it.

So, let's start again at "hello".

Thanksgiving is such a thoughtful time: a wonderful time to reflect, to enjoy each other around the table or sofa, a time to wonder if your football team is going to win, a time to remember those who have left us since this time last year, and pray that those who are with us will be with us this time next year. It's the time to pull out the Christmas decorations from the attic; to talk and laugh about memories that each and every ornament holds of trips gone by and special places visited. It's a time to think about how much bigger in stature and older Hunter is, and how much closer Kelli and I are to being empty-nesters.

It's a time of thanks for the Airhearts.

So, with all that said, enjoy the chill in the air, the warmth of your home, the early morning smiles as your house begins to wake up, the aroma of holiday coffee, the sunshine, the falling colorful leaves...

... and the opportunity to say "hello"...again.

A Debbie Downer Day

Some things are really just not in my control.

At 41, I am learning that tad bit of wisdom still. Maybe it's just that I live life on full throttle, and the reality, no matter how stark, is that few others do. Or maybe I am just stupid for caring so much. Maybe my dreams only compel me, myself and I. Perhaps I am a fool caught in a vicious cycle of belief that creating beauty and moments of rapture really matter to others, only to wake up and find myself alone, trying to create harmony out of monody.

I trust God. It's people that make it hard to trust.
Regardless, I can't control the stuff of life.

...and it's real downer.

Whaw-whaaaaaaaaaaw.

Who wrote "accelerando" into the score of my life?

Is it just me, or does anyone else feel the space between the metronome ticks beginning to shorten?

WELL...a lot has happened since I was here last, and I won't even attempt to catch up with everything. Too much life has happened since February, and many of you have been a part of it...so, let's just pick back up as of late.

The "Psalms, Hymns and Spiritual Songs" benefit concert is approaching, and we finally have a concert venue: St. James United Methodist Church in Little Rock (Pleasant Valley). I have yet to finish the orchestration for "Blessed Is the Man", although adding the Dies Irae to the middle of the song was a stroke of genius: "not so the wicked...they are like the chaff that the wind drives away; therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgement, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous". It fits perfectly! Now, just to finish the rest of it...ARGH!

It's also graduation season around here, and in so many ways I am sad. My singing kiddos that we have watched grow up are about to leave. For the last 5 years, most of them have been a weekly part of my life as well as the life of the Student Choir. Along the way, God has blessed me with new additions to this class. Hard to imagine a rehearsal without them. In fact, right now, I choose not to think that way!

It's also been wonderful to see our adult section leaders take their place of leadership in the PraiSingers. What a joy for me to watch them lead others. All the hard work is finally paying off, and I feel like I am being freed up to do what God has called me to do. Now, just to find that associate!

Music & Drama Camp is coming up as well. Just thinking about the energy it will take to make that week special hurts my head at this point. Great news: Mrs. C has already volunteered to make the "stuff" this year...that made me smile.

Crazy moments cause me to reflect on places far away and peaceful...a horseback ride at El Rancho Pinoso, a cabin in Lake City, the breeze at Mt. Rushmore. Almost like that song from "Westside Story": "close your eyes and your halfway there..."

Vacation will be the week after M& D Camp. And then, Vermont and Montreal in July.

Will someone come do my yard? And oh by the way, can you purchase and install new shingles on the roof while you are at it? My metronome has yet to ritardando...in fact, it feels like I have gone from adagio to allergro in a matter of subito!

Waco, here we come...

Its the waning hours of Thursday night, and tomorrow we leave for Waco for the Baylor YouthCue Festival with the kids. All the hard work and preparation is almost over...the buses will be here in the morning, and we will board those big charters and make our way down to Central Texas. Crossing the Brazos River will have never been so bittersweet.

It's been a tough week, to say the least. With Hannah's accident still fresh in my mind, I feel like a piece of us, a piece of me, will still be left in some room where nurses come in at all hours of the night and the sterile smell of a sanitized room permeates the air. I pray that when her eyes close in restful and healing sleep, she hears the strains of a melody that we have rehearsed down deep in her heart and mind.

We are incomplete without her...

And yet, if the Lord tarries, we will load the buses and make our trip. We will step foot on the Baylor campus, make our way to Jones Concert Hall, and Festival 2007 will begin. It will be good to feel somewhat in a familiar place again, even though it's been years since my feet stepped on that campus as an auditioning Senior in high school with my clarinet, my mom and my friend B.J.. What's more, I get to take a great group of students with me...including my son.

How very ironic and sweet life is. In this one event, life comes almost full circle. From student to teacher...from being led to being the leader...from son to father...from inspired to inspiration...from dreamer to dream weaver.

It's worth it. Waco, here we come.

It's Friday...YEA!

It's a cold and sunny Friday, and still the sweet strains of music linger in my ear from last night's rehearsal with the PraiSingers.

What a joy they are to me! As God has built our choir team over the years, He has been so faithful to bring the just right people at the just right time.

Last night, we rehearsed a beautiful section of "For the beauty of the earth" by John Rutter (my English church music composer idol). Here is the verse:

"For the beauty of each hour of the day and of the night,
hill and vale and tree and flower, sun and moon and stars of light;
Lord of all to Thee we raise this our joyful hymn of praise!"

Do I really find beauty in each hour of the day that God has made? Or, do I look so forward to the end of the day that I miss the beauty of the now?

That's where Friday comes in. Everyone has said "TGIF!" at some point (maybe even right now!), but who ever says "TGITuesday"...or "TGIWednesday"...even more rare would be TGIM! Heaven forbid!

I think as an artist, I have to constantly keep myself in check on this matter...yes, those of us who see the beauty in life many times only find that beauty in the "what should be" instead of "what is"...I know that I find myself longing, even yearning, for the finished product, when I should pause and enjoy the beauty of the canvass that has only a few sparsely drawn lines. The color, the depth, the sound, the chord will come in time...but the right now is still just as beautiful.

Lord, right now...right this moment....let me enjoy nothing more than the beauty of the present that you have created. Let me experience the beauty of this hour...TGIF!

Take a look at that face...

pure genius

Worship Ministry Joys: Part 2

Another great worship ministry joy in my life is the work I am privileged to do with the adults at Cornerstone.

When my family and I came to Cornerstone, music ministry was not something new to me by any means. Honestly, I felt like I had done it all and seen it all by that time. But never in my now 21 years of direct ministry involvement have I felt so overwhelmed by joy as I do with the partners and friends...the family we have created within our Adult Vocal Music Ministry...The Cornerstone PraiSingers.

I am not even sure how to describe our team...they are talented, creative, daring, unabashed in their love for the Lord, astute in their knowledge of the Word...serious about pursuing Christ with their whole heart. They aren't afraid of tackling challenges or of taking mountains...they have the 'spirit of Caleb' within them (Numbers 13:30..."we should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.")

Over the last 7 1/2 years, the joys we have shared as well as the sorrows we have experienced together have knit our hearts together in a tightly woven bond. This is a team that truly loves each other, and one unlike I have never experienced within the confines of church.

We are now working on a unique project..."Psalms, Hymns and Spiritual Songs: The sounds of praise throughout the ages". We will record this project on the Sunday evening before Mother's Day 2007. It is a project that I have always dreamed of doing...with the people whom I truly want to do it. From plainsong chant to the contemporary arrangements of a Gospel Choir and every age in between...musical expressions of praise that have been penned and enjoyed since music became a staple in the life of the organized church.

Once again, our PraiSingers see a mountain and aren't afraid to climb.

Tonight, we began rehearsal with Robin Mark's "Days of Elijah"...although we have sung this in the past, even tonight we found new nuances and beauty in the interpretation. This team is so teachable, and they respond to direction beautifully. Actually, many times tonight I was afraid that I might just be in the way! It was awesome, and when they began to sing "There's no God like Jehovah...", I literally had chills up and down my arms. Upon leaving that, we started work on Beethoven's "Hallelujah" from Mount of Olives (yes, just another one of Ludwig's little ditties...). After the initial shock of the sheer scope of the piece, we jumped right in as a team...and before we left, I heard Beethoven in the voices of each section. Some on our team are just learning to read music, while others are seasoned...and yet the beauty of the music and the power of the text was revealed even in a short time. My heart began to beat faster...we're singing Beethoven!

To end rehearsal, I shared a recording with them of a musical gift that had been given to me on my birthday...it was a recording of "The Prairie Home Companion" and a musical story about a choir who sang classical music for their director, yet they had rock and roll in their hearts. I literally laughed with them until I had tears running down my cheeks...which were aching because I was smiling so much! At the end, we always share our prayer requests for each other and for those we know of and love. Tonight was no different.

Not your typical church choir rehearsal...but then again, this is no typical choir. I can't say it enough...we are a family.

PraiSingers, I love everyone of you so much that sometimes it makes my heart leap at the very thought of our time together each week. Thank you, everyone of you...for reminding me constantly of how blessed I am as a pastor and musician. Your music making, your offerings of praise and your determination to achieve excellence "as unto the Lord" has been a living example of Colossians 3:23 to me.

By the way...yes, we are singing Beethoven...and their is no choreography planned...yet.

Worship Ministry Joys: Part 1

One of the great joys of the ministry that I get to do is to make music with our student choir here at Cornerstone, The Celebration Singers Student Choir. Let me share why...

When I was in high school, I had a friend invite me to come be a part of the youth choir at First Baptist Church in Mineola, Texas...the Chapel Choir. I enjoyed singing and playing the piano, but when I experienced the first rehearsal with that group, I was blown away. I didn't realize that sounds like that were possible with kids our age! All of it was possible because of one man who eventually had a huge impact in my life...Mr. Tommy Lander, the minister of music there at First Baptist. He expected excellence from us, and would settle for nothing less than our very best...after all, it was the Lord Jesus we were singing to and for, and who would bring his 2nd best to the King of kings?

I was inspired, and during the years that followed, I knew that one day I wanted to provide an opportunity for other students to experience the same joy, the same stirring within their souls that I had experienced. I wanted them to hear the voice of God as I had heard...after all, it was on a summer choir tour that God spoke His calling into my life.

Fast forward to the year 2000...13 students dared to take a challenge from me to sing at our first official Christmas production. Now whether out of fear, sense of duty, or love of music, I don't know...but these students stepped up to the challenge and made the first sounds that would turn into the Celebration Singers.

Working with students is a challenge, no doubt. Everyone of them in our large group (we average 80 students per week now, on a Monday afternoon of all times!) come from various backgrounds and social standing. With the incredible help of great section teachers (yes, we have come a long way!), something beyond magical occurs...it's spiritual. Young voices are blended across sections, across differences and beautiful harmony is produced.

What a beautiful picture of the body of Christ. Every section doing its job to delightful excellence, focused on not just the ability of the individual section but the bigger picture of the whole, produces something that individually is not possible...harmony. If one section lags, lacks focus or proper intonation, the whole choir suffers. If one person within the section decides to not follow proper vowel or consonant rules, the section suffers...and thus the whole. It is exactly what Paul was talking about in Romans 12. Read it.

Students, thank you for reminding me every Monday of the joy of the body of Christ.

Just one more for charcter...

Yea Tony...you did it the Lord's way.

Listen...you can hear the applause of heaven,

not necessarily for the win...

but for the journey.

Hurray for character...and for toilet paper.

Of all the qualities that I admire the most in people, it is an upright character. I have never known someone that had too much of it, but I have come in contact with plenty of people who needed it. An abundance of character is not easily described, but the lack thereof is easily recognized.

For instance, take Tony Dungy...the coach of my Super Bowl winning team The Indianapolis Colts. How can you descibe this humble man's character? He is admired, respected and trusted both on and off the field. He gives credit where credit is due, and bows his head when showered with accolades, no matter how deservedly they are given. His upright character is fleshed out in his personal and private life, and although certainly not a perfect man, he is a great example of Paul's admonition to "follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ." (1 Cor. 11:1; Phil 3:17)

Tonight, I came home to find that my yard had been "TP'd" in a grand fashion. Now, for those of you who don't know me well, I consider this a mortal offense...it's just a big deal to me because I try to do all that I can to take humble pride in the stewardship of all of which God has blessed our family, not for our own glory, but because I think that my yard is a potential witness to my own character. I mean, I understand pranks and jokes, but this is not one that I grant favor or a blind eye. Immediately, I got on the phone and called a young man that I thought might know who the culprits were...and immediately he confessed and gave me the names of all of those students (whom I love dearly, by the way) who were involved. He did so immediately and humbly, and upon my request to come and clean it up, he didn't hesistate. His upright character came blazing through as a testimony of respect and love. Being sick, I expressed my disappointment, but my thanks for his honesty and his action.

Within several minutes, 7 of the 8 students involved were at my house in the 10 pm hour cleaning the mess up...which was no easy task. And, although they couldn't get it all, they all 'manned up' (even though one was a young woman!) and got it as clean as possible with little more light than the moon and the front porch lights.

This is so rare these days. Upright character...instant honesty...integrity...ownership of one's actions. Why? What has happened to us that we settle for less than transparency and introspection within our personal lives? Are we so deceived and blinded by the victim mentality ("it was someone else's fault"..."the devil made me do it"..."if someone had been there to stop me, it wouldn't have happened") that we brush upright character into some obscure corner of our lives? Who is actually out there among us as believers that would man up with enough courage to say, "Follow me as I follow Christ"...and those of us who would follow could, with confidence, say "I am actually being led towards Christ."? Does it really take a Super Bowl or a toilet bowl for us to find people who are upright?

Upright character...any takers?

Bring on the TP.

The renovating power of the Spirit of God

I had lunch today with a dear friend of mine who is in the military and about to be deployed to Afghanistan. What a work God has done and is still doing in his life, and the life of his family.

As we came back to my office, we sat in his car and talked about the opportunity that God was placing before Him; he's not just going on a military deployment, but a missionary journey. I encouraged him to allow the Spirit of God to sprinkle the salt of his life on all he comes in contact with..."as he is going..."

We started talking about the process of sanctification...the work of renovation that the Holy Spirit does in the life of every believer until we close our eyes and wake up in the presence of God. I like that word...renovation. After all, I understand it well living in the home in which we live.

When we first moved in, we were so happy to have gotten our home. It really was a dream home for us, one we had desired for many months. But, we knew even before we purchased it that it would need some major renovation, although that didn't squelch our zeal to have it.

We started in the kitchen and living room. Cabinets were stripped and sanded, old wallpaper was removed only to find holes in the wall that the wallpaper had covered. New paint, new trim, new appliances...it seemed like the process would never end. Dark wood was painted light, dull walls were given new life with a new coat of paint. Windows were cleaned... and then cleaned again.

And then cleaned again.

We then proceeded to the dining room. The layers of wallpaper I removed...at least 5 layers in that room alone. New paint...new wallpaper...old fixtures polished...new ones added.

On to the downstairs bathroom...the old removed, the new put in place.

Up the stairs to the rooms less visible to the public, but essential to us. One room, one hallway, one fixture at a time, carefully, meticulously placed to make it not just a house, but a home suitable for our tastes. It was no longer us living in someone else's home...it was our home.

Five years later, we are still working on it. Project by project, detail by detail...little by little, it has become a place we call our own.

In my personal life, that has been how I have viewed the Spirit's process of sanctification in me. He has not only purchased this "house", albeit at a high price...but room by room, step by step, wall by wall and fixture by fixture, the Lord Jesus has set His residence there. Every day, the Carpenter works on me, sometimes removing walls that were misaligned or wrongly constructed...sometimes tearing down wallpaper that was used to disguise the holes in my life...sometimes just polishing the handles of fixtures that have been replaced but have become tarnished. Sometimes, He washes the windows again, and again, and again.

He owns the deed...He has the tools...He knows for what the blueprints call.

Continue to renovate me, Lord. Reconstruct my life into the piece of property that You alone can call home.

The journey is hard

Mercy, this journey we call life is hard.

So many people are hurting. Who can know the depths of a person's heart, where they have walked in this experience, the hidden aches that can't quite be explained with words...just with a look or an empathized feeling. Does God really understand every subtle shade of pain that we, as His children, feel within the deepest recesses of our hearts? Is there really purpose in those little pools of death within us? Do they really serve to shape and mold us more into the image of Christ, or are they simply the result of the sin that still strives to reign over us? Does God really scream at us through our pain (as C.S. Lewis suggested) simply to get our attention?

I wrestle with this everyday...surely there has to be another way that our infinite, omnipotent God, in His wisdom, could capture not only our eye but our heart. And yet in the end, I can only come back to the simple truth written in that old hymn written in 1912 by C. Austin Miles:

I come to the garden alone

while the dew is still on the roses;

And the voice I hear falling on my ear

the Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me,

and He talks with me,

And He tells me I am His own;

And the joy we share as we tarry there,

None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice

is so sweet the birds hush their singing,

And the melody that He gave to me

within my heart is ringing.

I’d stay in the garden with Him

though the night around me be falling,

But He bids me go;

through the voice of woe His voice to me is calling.

He is there...

He is there...

He is there.

GO COLTS!

It is funny...around my house, I am known as the guy with very few loyalties when it comes to sports. Whoever wins the championships in each category is usually my favorite team, at least for a day. But, I really only have 4...the Arkansas Razorbacks, the Texas A&M Aggies, the San Antonio Spurs...and the Indianapolis Colts.

I used to be a Dallas Cowboys fan, but that was back in the glory days of Tom Landry, Roger Staubach, Tony Dorsett...although it was tough at first, I soon grew to love Jimmy Johnson, Troy Aikman & Emmit Smith. Now, those were the days! But after Jimmy left, I hung on as long as I could until I just couldn't stomach anymore lack of class. After all, I am a child of the Tom Landry era and of the ilk that free agency has ruined the NFL.

For years I bounced back and forth, like a football fan tossed in the stands like the proverbial beach ball. I even did a stint as a Green Bay Packers fan...and that lasted until the Mark Chmura debacle. I had no where to turn on Sundays from noon until 6, or on Mondays when ABC had MNF.

And then, Tony Dungy went to the Colts. Tony is a fantastic believer, a humble man cut from the same cloth as Tom Landry. Not alot of flash or trash...just simple enough for me to be able to jump on the bandwagon. I knew of Tony when he was with Tampa Bay, and have even had kids stay at his home when I took a group of kids to Florida on a Choir Tour. Now, in Indianapolis, he has made a fan out of me once again.

Now lest you say, "well, wait until they lose", I have been a Colts fan consistently since 2002. I haven't jumped ship, even when they had some heartbreaking losses this year. I feel towards them the same as I feel towards my other teams. And for me to finally find an NFL team that causes me to get as excited as the Razorbacks, the Aggies, and the Spurs, that's a big deal.

And now, Super Bowl.

Yea Peyton. You did it bro!

Yea Tony. Your character has paid off.

Yea me! I finally have a team in the Super Bowl!

Once again, I am a believer!

The Beauty of the Mundane

I never thought that the mundane things in life would hold such beauty for me. After all, growing up on a ranch 3 miles from our closest neighbor initiated a desire in me for a different, more exciting life. "If I can just get off this ranch, I will never look back"... and when Green Acres was in my rear view mirror, I truly thought I had arrived.

The older I get, the more I realize what a treasure that mundane home on the hill truly was. Life and the people who live it seem to get more complicated, more dysfunctional with which I can or actually have any desire to keep up. I see it and hear it everyday in ministry, and it is beyond heartbreaking to me: It is disgusting, distasteful and ignoble. If we as a society continue with this delusion that technology and "things" can actually bring us the abundant life that Jesus told us was His desire for us, I fear that one day I will wake up and be a stranger on my own street.

Lord, please renew my memories of the better times on the hill. Maybe running around in shorts, with no shoes and no t-shirts, and playing battle with sticks was more beautiful than I ever realized. Forgive me for not treasuring the beauty of the mundane.

"baby, it's cold outside..."

I remember the first time I heard that song...Dolly Parton and Rod Stewart in a duet. Go figure. Although it is a much loved song of an earlier era, Dolly and Rod revived it for a new generation. Bravo, although it is still the most confusing song of all time.

I am glancing out the back bay window and it is raining, slowly, like an intermittent drizzle from clouds that can't make up their mind. Once again, it is cold...but of course, it is January in Arkansas and it should be cold outside.

Inside, it's warm, the way a home should be in January. The fire is dancing in the fireplace and my family and I are enjoying this day together. The satisfaction of a warm meal and the aftertaste of a piece of homemade lemon pie still lingers within me. Sam, our hilarious little Jack Russel, is enjoying our company as he bounces back and forth between all of us, trying to find a place to land and cuddle.

Yes baby, it's cold outside...and all is well.

Birthday Blessings

Although a week and a day has past since my birthday, tonight was the celebration with my wonderful wife and awesome friends that made #41 bearable.

For me, the yearly birthday recognition hasn't always brought good memories. When I was younger, my mom would always fix the meal of my choice and my dad's cousin Onlso, the 2nd highest decorated soldier in WWII (second only to Audi Murphy, his friend) would always bake my birthday cake. Presents weren't a requirement, nor were they usually given. Just a meal accompanied by the traditional out of tune "happy birthday to you...", make a wish and blow out the candles...Sometimes, my dad was there...sometimes he wasn't. After all, if it wasn't his birthday, he didn't put much stock in it, physically or emotionally...that was just his way.

After getting married and becoming a parent, birthdays became very special to me. My wife grew up in a home where birthdays were always celebrated as VERY special events, and with her encouragement (and the determination to give my son the joys that weren't readily available to me) we have attempted to make those once a year events memorable. After all, who can resist the smiles and laughter of a one year old digging into his own cake, and subsequently smearing it all over his beautiful round face?

Later in my life, #32 was the most painful, and although I didn't think I would live to see 33, God's grace and the love of my family and friends proved yet once again that what man sometimes means for evil, God means for good...and that brings us to 41.

I honestly don't feel 41...my mind keeps telling me that I am still 25, although I will admit that the misguided mind begins to give in to the demands of a somewhat older body. Tonight was so special, unlike any that I have ever experienced. The party began at 6:30 and lasted until 10:30 (although our age began showing at 9:30 when we all seemed to begin yawning in unison!) The food was exquisitely prepared by unbelievably special friends, and the company that joined us was just as delightful...I expressed to one of them that this was the group of people that I wanted to be at my deathbed when that time came, if I am so privileged.

We all are blessed to have such days that are shared with such friends and loved ones. My prayer is that you can be as blessed as I am right at this moment.

Happy birthday to you....and me.