Bessie, my love

It's not a done deal, but it looks like we are coming upon the end of an era. The times we shared, my love and I, are cherished memories I shan't quickly forget. Bessie, my truck, my very first car that I've had since I was 16 years old, could no longer sustain life yesterday. Bessie, my Bessie, had her radiator explode about 2 miles from home (little to my knowledge, I thought we had just gone through a dusty patch in the road). However, Bessie loved me truly and gave her all to see me safely two more miles and up one grueling hill coasting into the front of my neighborhood. She died on the last turn as the steering locked up and she breathed her last on Terrault Street.

How sad, how forlorn was I! I walked with tears falling like a spring shower from my eyes back to my house. I called Robert (my good friend and fellow choral conductor) to see if he could help me out. I was in luck (and Robert is a very generous friend), and he came to pick me up. We both wept over the truck and went to the nearest AAA Car Care Center to see what could be done. After an exciting ride in a tow truck (it was the highlight of my day), we finally got back to the certified AAA Car Care Center where I waited as the mechanics went to work on ol' Bess. "The engine blew," the wearied mechanic told me. "At the very least, it's going to cost you $3500 to get another used engine in there." After some consultation with my father, it was clear that it was too much money just to put another engine in the car. Bessie is probably worth less than $5000 (but oh so much more in my heart). So.....we're looking into "other" options. Buying a new (used) car is on the table at this point. And it probably won't be another truck, *sigh*. For those of you who have never owned a truck, you do not understand. You may think I'm a silly goose, but that's okay, because you know not the joys and conveniences of owning a truck. I could haul anything anywhere at anytime. Friends rushed to my side--"I need someone to pick up my mattress," "I need mulch!" "Bring the choral risers around back." Yes, 'twas the life. But now, no more. I could haul much stuff, but I also had no room in the cab. I never had to drive anyone anywhere else, because I could only comfortably fit one other person. Now, (if I get a car, which I probably will; it'll probably be all four door and stuff) I must be the one to be the carpool go-to guy. Not that I don't everyone so far who is taking me around, it's just--sometimes it's fun to not pay for gas.

I'll update the situation once more things happen, but until then....

So close, and yet, so very far away...

I passed my comprehensive exams. My committee rated the exam as "Satisfactory." It would have been nice to have passed with distinction, but let's just be honest right now--comps were not a priority. School is honestly not too big of a priority right now. I am finishing the work and putting the time in, but it is so very difficult to work on school projects as if I were working for the Lord. It's a struggle, I know. I've got an interview next week for a part-time vocal position at the Music Academy of NC, and I am excited to see what that will do and if any other opportunities will open up. At this point, I'm staying in Greensboro, probably scooting around teaching voice and maybe some choral gigs if I get the opportunity. I have to hit these private schools pretty soon. Yeah....after I finish my paper, perhaps.

I'm very excited, however, to see God at work in my life. I can get down easily, especially about the current job market and exactly how I'm going to make it in this life as a choral conductor with about as much experience as a peanut. God is good, though, and He will provide--of this I am certain. I'm trying to view these gloomy and ominous storm clouds ahead as an opportunity for God to burst forth in a radiant sunshine that will be all the more glorious. Psalm 105 says: "Seek the Lord and His strength; Seek His face continually. Remember His wonders which He has done, His marvels and the judgments uttered by His mouth..." (4-5, NASB). I need to remember this, that while I'm struggling to seek God continually, God is passionately pursuing and alluring me (as a good friend recently reminded me).

My friend Amanda Mae got engaged (apparently--that's what Facebook tells me, at least) this week. I'm excited to see some of my friends growing and progressing into the next stages of their lives. She'll have her wedding on the beach (just like she always wanted) and I'm already seeing if I can be a part of the music in her wedding. It's very encouraging to me that after all of this burnout with music that I still have a calling to share and communicate with my friends the best way that I know how: through music. I hope it can be a blessing to her as well.

I'll also be singing at a wedding in May, and it will be good to go back to TN, at least for a little while. Mom wants me to come sing at church that weekend, too. Does anybody else have this dilemma? You want to go visit your parents/friends/acquaintances from back home, and suddenly you're put on a tour schedule spanning the entire town (all 12 blocks of it). I guess as a musician this is something I'll have to get used to. It's a good thing, too, though. At least people (most people) appreciate what I do and want to hear more of it. That's a good thing, right?

Alright, I am about to go to Glee Club and do that thing. Fifty minutes of singing "America the Beautiful." Yeah. Two concerts this weekend, one in Winston-Salem. One I'm conducting. Woo! It's going to be okay--God is sovereign.

And now...an original haiku

rain and the basement
waiting for her who comes forth
Music Library

(A reflection from a sleep-deprived music major...that is all)

Comps Are Over! (And I'm Still Burned Out)

I finished up my comprehensive exams on Monday. It took me 7 hours to write 19 pages of text and 5 pages of analysis. No lunch break, I just brought a bunch of bananas and crackers and it got me through. It was about as close to torture as one can get. They stick you down in an "Isolation Booth" in the basement of the School of Music. There is only one fluorescent light in that tiny room, and it makes you want to rake your eyes out in a very Oedipus Rex fashion. Nonetheless, I made it eyes intact, although probably severly damaged for staring at a glaring computer for so long. Dr. Young is supposed to read through my exam today, and hopefully I'll know pretty soon how I did and if it is sufficient. I felt okay about it, there were a few things I could have done better. Ohime!

I am so ready to be done with school. I am frustrated with it and I'm tired of stupid (but probably useful) conducting exercises, I'm tired of voice lessons, I'm tired of rehearsal after rehearsal after rehearsal for music about which nobody cares. I'm burned out on making art. I want to be in a place where music is used for more than just art. I made that abundantly clear in my comps, too. I hope they don't rip me apart for my over-zealously Christian answers. Oh well, perhaps if suffering should come I can draw closer to Christ.

Times like these help me to focus on Philippians 4:1: "Therefore, my beloved brethren whom I long to see, my joy and crown, in this way stand firm in the Lord, my beloved." The Amplified Bible says "my delight and crown (wreath of victory)." It reminds me that I'm not alone, and that I do have friends, a community of believers, the Church that I can put on as a wreath of victory. Sometimes I get trapped inside myself and I can't see beyond it. I become very selfish and not only do I not see other people's problems, but I don't see the solutions to my own standing right in front of me, in the form of my church family (all 2 billion of them...give or take a couple million). I'm silly sometimes.

Easter is coming up this week, and it will be nice to have Good Friday off from school. I can't wait for school to be over. Blessed be that, day, e'er so literally.

"Efficially" Down and Out

I was typing on Facebook this morning, and I wrote "efficially," trying to spell "officially." Yeah, for me, that's pretty bad. Story time!

When I was in 8th grade, I was a pretty weird kid. Okay, so, I'm still a pretty weird kid. Anyway...one thing that I did excel at in those wonderful years was school. I really didn't have to try very hard to make a good grade. One of the weirdest classes I had was my English class with Mrs. Householder. Her husband, of course, was the infamous Coach Householder, the high school football coach. He's about as "good ol' Southern boy" as you can get, and so it was pretty funny when Mrs. Householder told us that she was a feminist. Looking back, Mrs. Householder was really not a feminist at all, in my humble opinion. She just wanted all of the women in certain parts of the Middle East to be able to wear a t-shirt and jeans if they wanted, instead of those fully covering robes. We watched and read "Not Without My Daughter" starring the fabulous Sally Field. At the time, though, everybody, myself included, was on board with Mrs. Householder's "feminism" and wanted to liberate the masses. I felt kind of bad for being born male. Alas, we shan't dive further into this, as it is not the point of my story. Mrs. Householder was the teacher in charge of the 8th grade spelling bee. They had this really weird system in my middle school where there apparently were too many kids, so we had to be split up into Blue and Gold teams so each member of each respective team would only have classes with members of only his or her team. I was on the Blue team, which was nice, because most of my good friends were Blue. Most of the girls and popular guys, though, were on Gold, and so sometimes we felt a little inferior, being Blue and all. (Blue and Gold were our school colors by the way.) So, as the spelling bee preparation began, we had to be chosen from our English classes to participate. I, oh so naturally, was chosen by Mrs. Householder as I held high her torch of feminism. It was pretty funny actually, I memorized all the words up to "P" on the one (1) sheet of paper they had given us and easily won the Blue Team spelling bee before we reached "D." I am not even sure we got to "F" before probably the smartest kid in our grade lost on an easy word. I can't recall what the word was, but I do remember him coming back with a dictionary and claiming that Mrs. Householder had incorrectly pronounced the word and demanded to be let back in the running. Yeah, that one didn't fly. Oh well, Jacob. At least he moved past it...eventually.

So the Gold team was all popular guys and girls who spent more time on their makeup and newly found interest in the opposite sex than spelling, and it was no contest. Yeah, personal appearance, what's the big deal? Spelling is where it's at! But really, yeah, I won the school spelling bee with one other girl. We were chosen to represent Seymour Middle School in the county-wide spelling bee just a few weeks later. This time we got a real spelling list, which was kind of cool at the time. It was a real book, and it just had all these words in it. Like a really, really cool dictionary, only it wasn't in alphabetical order, more like easy words to hard words. I think I started to freak out when I saw words like "diplegia" and "bivouac" but I did my best to study, or rather, store away in my short term memory.

Finally the big night came. I was sharply dressed and brought a sharp wit to match it. I casually made my way up to the microphone for the first word. I looked around at my competitors (most of whom wore glasses) and thought, "I am so much cooler than every single one of you." Yeah, I was a jerk in 8th grade. Okay, so I still have jerkish tendencies from time to time now, but you have to admit, I've improved. Yeah, so I stepped up to the microphone and received my first word: airplane. A scoff forced its way out of my mouth as I stepped back and glanced to the ground with a smirk of over-confidence and spelled that word down like I flew airplanes for a living. A round of applause erupted from the crowd as I sauntered back to my seat. I was good, real good. My second round came. The word? Carrot. Again, a slight smile crossed my lips until he read the definition. Not a vegetable? Oh, you mean like a diamond? The little "kt" abbreviation? Oh...well...oh. C-A-R-.....ok. C-A-R-......O-T. EPIC FAIL. No, Logan, the word is spelled carat, C-A-R-A-T. In shame and humiliation I weeped openly as I sheepishly dragged myself off the stage into the audience of parents and losers. A torrent of tears flowed down my face as I approached my parents, their heads hung in disappointment and defeat.

Actually, not really. I walked off stage, kind of bummed, but whatever. I didn't really want to progress to the state spelling bee all that bad anyway. Standing in front of all those people performing, who would ever want to do that? Now if I could just figure out why I went into music...

All that to say that I, for the most part and except for stupid words like "carat," I am a pretty good speller. So, when I spell "officially" "efficially" I'm pretty down and out. The rain doesn't help. You know what does? Knowing that comps will be over by this time next week! Yay! In other news...

I believe that the Bible is the infallible, inspired Word of God. I think if you have the resources, you should study it in-depth, going back to the Hebrew and Greek and looking at (although being very discerning with) other documents from the time period. I don't think that that kind of study is necessary for the Holy Spirit to bring life to the words. I think sometimes in an effort not to "trust ourselves" we want guidance and maybe affirmation from those that have a different take on what the Bible says to make things fit just a little easier into our culture today. Trust God and trust the Bible. American (or European or African or Canadian) culture is not even close to defining an objective truth. Know what is? Yep. The Bible. It's not outdated; in fact, it stood the test of time for the past, oh, 3500 years or so. So, yeah. Just needed to get that off my chest. God is good.