Reflections...

Today I sat in bird poop. I then proceeded to gag my way through cleaning myself up.

Attractive? Well... I wouldn't think so.

These are the kinds of adventures I have. I popped my first tire the other day, too. Why am I saying this? Cause I love my life. My "job" isn't that exciting... so I have to make up for it in other ways. (Well I think it's exciting, but it is after all a desk job)

Ahh, so Christmas came and went. I'm still not sure if all of that actually happened or not. It's still in the 80s outside. It seemed like everyone I talked to was having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit. But that's ok... life is crazy. For everybody. Somehow I managed to buy all the presents I needed to give, AND I remembered to give them to the right people. Also, amongst all the craziness, I managed to stay focused on Christ. Not perfectly, of course. But I would find myself, while either driving to the next store or cleaning the house or what not, just pondering the mysteries of what we celebrate on December 25th. Things I have heard for years, but never took time to actually think them through. The mystery of God becoming flesh. The mystery of a baby being sovereign over the entire universe. The mystery of Jesus being born to die. I feel like thinking through these things, even though all the preparation was exhausting, has left me refreshed and energized to face another year of responsibilities and challenges.

And even though Christmas is technically “over” the revelations continue. This morning, I was reading the verse of the day, which happened to be Simeon’s encounter with Jesus at the temple. “A light has come to the Gentiles” he said... it struck me. I, being a gentile, had no business being a part of God’s family, and yet through the cross and simply placing my faith in God, I have been grafted in... fully accepted... and heir of the King. This blows me away. I hope it blows you away too.

I’ve also been flabbergasted at how good God has been to me by giving me such good friends. SO thanks for being a good friend :)

Quick trip through my thoughts.

I do this because it's probably meaningless, but maybe not if you have ever felt the same feeling before. If it's disgustingly personal, you don't have to read it, but it helps to get it out of my mind and on to a... web page. Therefore,

It's always a strange feeling when I add friends on fb and then my friend count goes down... considerably. Makes me feel sooooo gooood. (teen girl squad)

I'm so tired right now it hurts.

A friend of mine said that his mom couldn't cook to save her life... this brought me great hope seeing how I have quite the history of food fiascoes.

I must purchase Christmas presents. If only people were more selfish and would tell me what they want for Christmas :)

On that note, since I keep breaking a sweat, I am having a rather difficult time getting into the Christmas spirit.

I went down to the Keys on Sunday. Man, I missed the beach. Does wonders to the soul. And also makes me forget what season it is.

All my friends keep posting about finals and having to study study study. I almost miss that part about school.

BUT I am learning SO much about composition... and at such a rapid pace. It's wonderful. I feel as if I'm still going to school and being productive.

On the other hand, during my time in the Keys, Glory and my two cousins were doing school while I just sat around and found stuff to keep me busy. While I sat around and found stuff to keep me busy I couldn't stop thinking about how much I did NOT miss high school. (Note: I am talking about the work, not the people).

My sister's perfume smells really good.

Music is awesome.

Someone posted Micah 5:2 on facebook... between that and Craig's sermon on Sunday I've been mulling over the thought that God consistently uses people (or things) who have either really messed up or seem to have no significance at all to bring great Glory to Himself. It's remarkable, and also gives great hope.

Better late than never, right?

I know, I know... I've neglected my blog. I'm sorry. Terribly sorry. So much to blog about that I don't have time to blog about it.

Just got back from an awesome weekend in West Palm. Got to hang out with my amazing college friends, got to see and hear Handel's Messiah... absolutely glorious.

I'm home now. I feel disgusting and the hot water heater is indisposed, so my shower will have to wait.

Anyway, tonight I have an interview with Mark Hamby from Lamplighter Publishers. Pretty cool! I'll try to post that at some point. We'll be talking about the projects I've been working on lately and maybe some other spontaneous stuff.

I love my life.

Once upon a time I got an error message saying that I needed to press and hold the power button on my computer, therefore turning it off. Perhaps the previous story occurred multiple times today. I was baffled. Macs aren't supposed to crash like that. Especially when everything was working fine up until that point. I was able to eliminate the problem... it was my wireless keyboard that I use during recording in the studio. (Not like the 88 key kind... the computer kind, similar to the one I'm using to type this). I was quite discouraged seeing how I had just installed the brand new keyboard only a couple days ago (pretty sure that is the nerdiest sentence I have ever written). But alas, I was at a loss.

I mentioned the problem to my dad, who was working on his own project: installing new speakers in the Tahoe. He said he would look at it later. Quite suddenly, I realized that I had ignored an excellent help source: google. When the opportunity presented itself, I sat down and tried to put my problem into words. (I am going somewhere with this) There it was... the second option "wireless keyboard crashes Snow Leopard" where I promptly found 9 easy clicks to fixing the problem. Elation ensued. I went and told my dad that I had fixed the problem with a little help from whoever else had entered the problem on Apple Support... to which he said, "Funny you should say that... I couldn't figure out how to get the panel off the door in the truck... second thing to come up on youtube was this guy showing how to take a panel off the door of a tahoe"

Who does that? Some angel of a person, apparently. There I was with my problem. I look for help, and what do you know? Tons of other people have the same crisis... and some generous soul offers a solution. For free. My dad has an issue come up with the car, and with hardly any effort, finds that someone else has experienced the same scenario, and learned how to overcome. It's a mundane illustration, but now do you see where I'm going with this?

"No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it" - 1 Corinthians 10:13

No matter how diverse or obscure or even shameful the situation is, SOMEONE and probably MANY people have experienced it, and those with faith and a will strengthened by the Holy Spirit have made it to the other side. As helpless as a situation may seem, or as difficult as a trial may appear, it has not reached you or me without the Lord allowing it... and with it comes a way of escape. Be encouraged, God is truly faithful.

Studious

"There are a number of technologies used for variable gain amplification, each having different advantages and disadvantages. Vacuum tubes are used in a configuration called 'variable-mu': the grid-to-cathode voltage changes to alter the gain. Also used is a voltage controlled amplifier (VCA), which has its gain reduced as the power of the input signal increases. Optical compressors use a light sensitive resistor (LDR) and a small lamp (LED or electroluminescent panel) to create changes in signal gain. This technique is believed by some to add smoother characteristics to the signal because the response times of the light and the resistor soften the attack and release. Other technologies used include field effect transistors and a diode bridge.<sup>"

Um, yeah, ok.</sup>

The new normal, I suppose

Grace Coleman, coming to you live from... my desk.

The past few months have been a whirlwind of big decisions. Big decisions that were propelled by lots of prayer and accompanied with mixed emotions. Most of you have probably figured out by now that I'm not at school anymore, at least not physically. I'm still getting quite schooled. My biggest decision of the summer was to stay home this semester (and maybe more) and continue pursuing music/composition independently. That was a tough one. If you recall, I loved school. I loved learning about my passion (music) and being surrounded by other people my age who were also passionate about it. I quickly made many friends (two things that don't normally happen: quick and many) and I learned an intense amount of knowledge (not just academic). So why in the world would I not go back?

Well, after attending the guild in NY (I think I told you it was life changing, and if I didn't... it was) I was incredibly inspired. I watched John Campbel do what he does so well and it actually made sense. I thought to myself that with a little practice I could figure this out, and save a lot of money in the process. Which brings me to my second reason for not going back: money... or lack thereof. They don't call us starving musicians for nothing.

My time at PBA was not wasted. Before attending, I wondered if college was for me. But being there for a semester gave me a good taste of what college life is like. I learned foundational information that I will use every day of my entire career. And I gained friendships that I hope will last untill the day I die.

Meanwhile, the Lord has just confirmed this decision time and time again. Providing the finances I need to buy equipment, tutorials, books, etc. and also placing very special people in my life who can direct me to the next step, and the next, and the next. I am so thankful, and also very excited about what the future holds.

I'm planning on releasing an EP next month, although it's turning into quite a project and might morph into a full length album, in which case it won't be released until November. Lord willing. Then, hoping to release a second EP Feb. 1st. Lots to work on. Fun times.

Well, back to my studies about compression, and variable-gain amplifiers, and other stuff that I don't understand. Peace.

How Long?

Won't say much about this cause the explanation is on there. Sorry it's not the best quality... just used our handy little flip. We had some friends over for a mini concert last Saturday... planning on doing it again some time, so don't worry! :) Anyway, hope this encourages you!



Be on the lookout for a "better" recording coming soon!

Playing Mommy. And stinking at it.

Mom's only been gone for a day and a half... but man, being the woman of the house is tough! Lunch and clean up took about two hours... and it wasn't even good. Why in the world do they make dishes that can't go in the dishwasher?! I asked Glory how her rice and beans were and she gave me this face like "Well you asked, but if I told you, you'd be offended." She very politely said, "Um, not my favorite."

All I have to say is: I fear for my future family.

The Times

Well. The last few days have been trying, mostly due to technological issues. Several hours of work... lost. Several heavy sighs.

However, this pretty much sums up how I feel about everything:
(It needs some tightening up, but whatevs.)

The Song That I Can't Figure Out A Title For by Grace Coleman

2:30am. restless.


The only redeeming hope for being held captive to this awakedness would be the glorious sound of rain outside my window. Oh rain. Washing away the grime of the day. Cooling off the remaining heat of the earth, sweltering from the testing, Florida sun. But that was all a long time ago, now.

So many thoughts. So many questions. If only the rain could wash that away, too.

Tomorrow begins early. What am I doing with myself? The question of my calling has come full circle. What seemed so clear now is distant. Surely God did not give me passions to be forsaken. Surely He did not give me talents to be abandoned. Do the two go together? Or was my first calling only a test of willingness? I am willing, God!

I searched my heart, placing things that mattered to me on the altar. Whatever these things were gain to me I count them all as loss in view of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ my Lord. All at once I was reminded to place myself on the altar.

So what can I pursue when my future is here and I lack clear direction? Pray, yes. But also, chase after what has been so clearly revealed in His Word. "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward." Heavenward. I have been called heavenward; To "Set [my] mind on things above, not on the things of the earth."

There is no question here. Nothing vague. No room for misinterpretation. I have been called to live a life of Godliness--wherever I am.

This truth gives me rest. The rain has come and gone again. My eyes are heavy.

It happens sometimes...

While I was getting a much-needed haircut yesterday, the lady asked me if I was 13. Took me a while to convince her I'm 20 years old and in college. No moral to this story... just confusion as to whether its my looks or my demeanor that makes people ask me such questions.

I'll make this short...

Hi there.

Day 4

Sorry, I skipped day three. It was a good day three... I'll prolly post my notes later. I don't remember the last time I've been this exhausted, and therefore this emotional. My goodness. Pretty sure if I do something as little as stubbing my toe my makeup will run.

Needless to say, I've learned a lot. Today was the last day of sessions. Tomorrow we get to watch the professionals put together a two minute clip from start to finish. Writing --> Acting --> Recording --> Music. It's gonna be awesome.

My lesson today with Mr. Campbell didn't work out exactly how I had planned, but I did get a chance to ask him some pressing questions... and also his opinion on whether or not I should go back to school. It was extremely helpful. I love watching that guy work. He put together some short orchestral pieces today... quickly. And he also played us some commercial music he's written... absolutely phenomenal. I wish I could do that. He definitely inspired me to try.

Some thoughts that have been rolling around in my mind today:

If you're hungry (for a specific knowledge), you need to feed yourself... if someone else feeds you, you're probably gonna end up getting a whole bunch of stuff you don't want.

Collaboration isn't as hard or as intimidating as I thought.

I could get used to living at a resort.

All I wanna do is compose something.

Man, I'm tired.

God is the ultimate source for creativity. Check in with Him first. Every time.

Know your audience.

Melodies don't have to be complicated. Sometimes only a groove is enough.

Take care of your ears.

I can't act.

I hope I can get as good at my craft as these people are and be as humble as these people are.

Why am I so shy?

God's character is revealed in His creation... God is beautiful.

Speak the truth in love.

God, be my rest.




Anywho... Getting ready for a fabulous time of worship/learning tonight. Can't bring myself to take a nap. The fear of not being able to wake-up is what's keeping me from doing it. Lord willing, I will sleep wonderfully tonight. Planning on hiking up to the tower on the top of the mountain at 5:00am tomorrow morning to catch the sunrise with Caroline. Should be glorious.

Day 2 - Part 2

So tired.

Woke up at 6:00am to meet Mr. Hamby for devotions. Unfortunately, something came up, so I did my devotions by myself looking out over the beautiful lake. Awesome time with the Lord.

Then we did a group devotion, which was phenomenal. We were dismissed into four groups. My group (group 4) met with John Campbell first. Just a reminder, he's the composer for Adventures in Odyssey, Lamplighter theater, Focus on the Family radio theater... absolute genius. I was quick to go meet him to tell him that I needed to schedule a lesson with him. He was up for it and asked me about myself. I told him I was a composition major, and that he was the main reason I wanted to come to this guild. He seemed very excited to meet with me later. His session was really helpful... also very technical. He went over the fundamentals for our DAWs and a boatload of other terms and pieces of equipment. Really looking forward to meeting with him later this week.

We then had a session with Phillip Glasborough (spelling?) and his wife, Lizzie. They're from England, so they're automatically awesome. Phillip works for BBC and is a casting director for the radio dramas and the equivalent to Broadway in England. He's also an actor. I probably got those facts all mixed up, but the moral of the story is that this guy makes things happen. His wife is a vocal coach who studied opera at the Royal College of Music (whew!). She gave us some breathing exercises and Phillip coached us in some acting (one thing I just can't bring myself to do). Both the Mr and Mrs have very inviting, flamboyant personalities. Fun people.

Our next session was with Todd Busteed. He gave us some exercises in listening to our surroundings, indoors and out. Then he gave us some EXTREMELY interesting biological information about the ear... how we see with our ears, how we can tell where things are, how tall someone is, etc, and also how we hear with our body. Amazing stuff. All of this was crucial to understanding sound design (which I'm still not sure how to define, but I know it involves a lot of listening). Mr. Busteed is a very animated guy... very easy to listen to.

Our last session was with John Forenof (Again, I probably butchered the spelling) who is a screenwriter/scriptwriter. He's done several Adventures in Odyssey episodes and quite a few other shows. What I really appreciated about his "lecture" was that he focused on keeping God central to our work. He talked about Jesus as a story teller and mentioned the verse in Matthew where it says that He never went anywhere without telling a parable... and He's not done telling stories. Now He tell them through us. So, when we go to write, it's crucial that we go to Him first. Ask Him for inspiration. Ask Him if this is His story. Having trouble starting or finishing a story (or song, in my case)? Go to the Alpha and Omega. Extremely helpful, especially since most of my songwriting training focuses on the music portion, whereas that's only half the song.

The rest of the afternoon was free for me. Many people went rock climbing, but my body is still sore. It's crazy to think I've only been here a day; so much has already happened. I went up to Mr. Campbell's office and left my number on his desk asking if we could set up an appointment. Then went swimming with Carrie, my other roommate. We had a great time together. Was nice to get to know her better.

I slept for a few minutes, woke up shaking cause I was still exhausted. It was time for dinner... got all dressed up, and headed to the dining room. Mr. Campbell caught my eye while at dinner and came over to confirm if I was the Grace Coleman who left a note on his desk. Why yes, I was. He said Wednesday works best for him, so Wednesday it is. I can't wait to ask him all sorts of questions.... I have a hard time thinking of questions to ask people, but once I get on a role... well, 15 minutes is gonna fly.

After dinner, the Harrow family gave us a lovely concert. They're a family that plays instruments from all over the world and have set seven CDs worth of scripture to music. Very talented bunch. Mr. Hamby then gave another sermon, I guess you could call it. Very inspiring.

Then we watched a video about entrepreneurship (no way, I actually spelled that right?). Business is not a concept I'm familiar with, but apparently should be as a musician who one day will have to support herself and sell her craft. We shall see.

Oh! Got a new keyboard for tomorrow. My awesome dad did some checking around and found a Yamaha (my personal preference) at an affordable price for the week. He's the best.

Ok, I'm tired. Gotta get up early again, so night all.

Day 2 - Part 1

Barely 7:00am and I've already learned so much.... Lamplighter is all about doing a skill with excellence for the glory of God. So with that in mind, this REALLY spoke to me. I'm just chewing on it and can't really get my mind around just how much and in what ways it's affecting me.

"And whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them. I kept my heart from no pleasure, for my heart found pleasure in all my toil, and this was my reward for all my toil. Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.

So I turned to consider wisdom and madness and folly. For what can the man do who comes after the king? Only what has already been done. Then I saw that there is more gain in wisdom than in folly, as there is more gain in light than in darkness. The wise person has his eyes in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I perceived that the same event happens to all of them. Then I said in my heart, "What happens to the fool will happen to me also. Why then have I been so very wise?" And I said in my heart that this also is vanity. For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten. How the wise dies just like the fool! So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind.

I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity. So I turned about and gave my heart up to despair over all the toil of my labors under the sun, because sometimes a person who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave everything to be enjoyed by someone who did not toil for it. This also is vanity and a great evil. What has a man from all the toil and striving of heart with which he toils beneath the sun? For all his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation. Even in the night his heart does not rest. This also is vanity.

There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment? For to the one who pleases him God has given wisdom and knowledge and joy, but to the sinner he has given the business of gathering and collecting, only to give to one who pleases God. This also is vanity and a striving after wind."

Ecclesiastes 2:10-26

Guild - Day 1 - Part 2

I apologize. I promise the next few days won't be so long. But this has been an extremely long day and thus gets more detail.

At approx 11:00am we landed, found my suitcase with no problem (thank you, Lord!) and also found the three other guild members. It's funny... you can just tell who they are. They have this... wholesome look to them. We walked outside and found two others. A 12 passenger van picked us up, and we were on our way to Mohonk.

We arrived around 12:30. Our rooms weren't ready yet so a valet (oooh ahhh) took our bags and we roamed around the campus. We met Christina, who is a wonder woman... she's holding this guild together. We also met Mark Hamby's (president of Lamplighter Publisher) wife and daughter, and son-in-law, who is also the tech guy this week. Once he found out that we were the "musicians" he welcomed us with "You do know we don't have a plan, right?" I came here with the intention of being flexible and now was time to put my intentions into action. We exchanged numbers and he informed us that we would know when he knew something.

Then Jonathan, Michael, Caroline, and I went out on the trails. Caroline and I were wearing dress shoes, but the sights, sounds, and smells were too powerful to go find our luggage again. However, after an hour or so of climbing on rocks and looking for a nonexistent spring, we headed back to the... castle. We sat on the second level deck and just breathed in the serenity of our surroundings. Around 3:20pm Caroline and I were starting to get a little antsy about our room... so we went to check if it was ready. It wasn't. So we went exploring. Mohonk is huge... very easy to get lost. However, we managed to find the spa (very important) and also the dining room (also, very important).

Finally after some more wandering around, we got a call that our room was ready. We grabbed our key, but then had to check in with the other students and faculty. As I walked into the designated room with Caroline and some other girls, one of the teachers instantly engaged us in conversation, asking what track we were doing... all of us were Dramatic Arts. He then introduced us to Todd Busteed, who has been a hero of mine for years. I couldn't believe I was standing in the same circle with him. He has a studio in Wheaton, IL and produced audio drama series like Adventures in Odyssey, Left Behind, Left Behind The Kids, and countless others. He dove right in to telling us how the process works... apparently they do A LOT of their work in London (oh my goodness!) I was racking my brain trying to think of an intelligent question to ask him, but I couldn't think of anything and this other girl kept beating me to it... so I just remained engaged in the conversation by the occasional "oh, wow!" and "that's amazing!" and it was.

Caroline and I were trying to stay out of the way, but time was running out and we still didn't have a plan. We talked to this person, who lead us to that person, who lead us back to Jarred (Mr. Hamby's son-in-law) who in tern lead us to Mr. Hamby. I had already met him a few minutes earlier, but this time I was introduced as "the girl with the music." He knew Caroline plays violin, and somehow it was communicated that I play piano and sing. I made the mistake of saying that I lead at church, to which he said, "Do you lead?" I didn't know what he meant. Was he asking "would I lead?" Was he thinking that I came from a background where women lead men? Was he asking if I was simply capable? Was he asking if I was a leader? I gave the very intelligent answer of "sometimes?" Then I clarified and said that I play at my church with the band and brought the repertoire that we do on Sundays and also the specific songs he had requested and was flexible and would do whatever he wanted. That seemed to clear things up. So then came the decision of what we would do that night. Or tonight... wow, that was so long ago, now. We went round and around on what we could do, what we were all familiar with, what we had music for, and finally landed that Caroline would do a solo and we would both do "Give Us Clean Hands" congregationally. He then asked me if I had a solo... again, I didn't know what he meant. He then said that Christina had sent him one of my songs and that he wanted me to do something original at some point this week... but not tonight, we concluded. Mr. Hamby seemed very pleased with the plan. We were about to wrap things up and go our separate ways when he stopped us and said, "Ok, let's pray." This guy is for real.

We had a little housekeeping meeting, then Jarred went off to try and find this midi piano he had been telling me about... it was the only option. Apparently John Campbell is using it this week, but I can use it for the sessions, which is pretty awesome (John Campbell played this keyboard? whoa!) Midi pianos are cool, they just lack one thing: sound. So as long as I am hooked up to somebody's mac, it would work.

Caroline and I went and saw our room... it's lovely with a GORGEOUS view. I'll post a little tour video hopefully soon. Shortly after settling in, we went to dinner. Here at Mohonk, you have to dress up for dinner, which totally makes me happy. My body was aching at this point from all the walking in terrible shoes... but anyway, I think our group cleaned up pretty well.... the food was amazing and in great abundance. Upon completing the selection for my plate, I began to head back to my table. I was just passing the dessert table when I felt my foot slide on something wet. "That's strange" I thought to myself as I tried to catch my balance... I slowly realized that I wasn't regaining balance at all, and before I knew it, I was laying on the floor. As quickly as I was down, I was back up again. I was hoping that only a handful of people saw. Waiters came out of the woodwork to ask if I was all right... "Yes." What a lie. I did mention to one of the waitresses that there was "something slippery" on the floor over there... I may be prone to falling, but I think it was more God saying, "Here's a little humble pie for you." I swallowed it and went back to the table.

I went back to my room way before dinner was over. I was in pain and just needed to be still for a bit and gather my thoughts. I really did need that fall. However, my hands and feet continued to shake afterward. After a while, we went back to the conference room, found the keyboard all ready to go, ran through our song, fixed the power point, and it was time to go! We sang all together at the very beginning of tonight's session. It was a really sweet time. Mr. Hamby gave a very thought provoking message about Sight and Sound and how image is everything. Here's a clip from my notes.


"Lucifer was created as the most beautiful creation that stood before God and brought glory to him. And even after he rebelled against he was still beautiful, but then God created man in His own image. Now, Lucifer wants to distort the image of God. ......What type of image are you projecting on life's screen?"

Carolyn ended the night with a beautiful violin solo.

I've learned so much today, I don't think I even realize. Not just from Mr. Hamby's message (although I gleaned a lot from that). But I learned about life... and I was reminded about how there can be millions of details that we can stress over, but there's no point in doing it. If you're where God wants you, He's not going to let anything slip through the cracks. If something doesn't work out the way you want it, it's because you obviously didn't need that and God has something better in mind. God gives us challenges to grow our faith, not in ourselves, but in Him alone. I've learned to be more flexible, to say yes to hard things, and trust that God can strengthen someone as weak as I am in order to carry out His plan.

That being said... I'm exhausted.

Guild - Day 1

8:13am

I woke up to my dad sounding a little panicky. I was 4:10am and I had overslept. After checking 2134 times to see if my alarm was on and everything... it didn’t go off. Technology.

I was ready in 15 minutes, grabbed a few last minute things, and we were out the door. Got my Dunkin Donuts fix (poor guy who runs the night shift has to do EVERYTHING) made it to the airport ON TIME, checked my bag (that’s already falling apart), and even had a minute to sit. That almost never happens.

Breezed through security, walked up to the gate, asked if I was in the right place, sat down, stood up, got on the plane, sat back down again. TMI? Sorry. The airplane scene in U.S. Marshall kept playing in my head as we were waiting to take off... so far so good.

I’ve had to get creative on my sleeping arrangements. I usually resort to pulling the tray table down and collapsing on that. It works.

Missing my New Life family. Not being with them on a Sunday morning just doesn’t feel.. like Sunday morning. Thankfully, worship takes place in the heart and not in a building.

Supposedly, three other guild attendees will be on my next flight. I have so much anxiety it’s not even funny. Wait, “be anxious for nothing.” Ok. I’m sure everything will be great... I feel like a lot has happened for such a time as this. God is sovereign.

That’s all I got, so I won’t keep talking.


9:37am

Well, I thought I’d have a second once I got off the plane to post my last uh, post.... but little did I know...

I got off the plane in good time. I figured that my connecting flight gate wouldn’t be that far away... how many planes can U.S. Airways have? I looked down at my next boarding pass.... F20.... no problem. Then I got out of the little walkway thingy... I was in a mysterious land of B’s. Maybe my gate changed... I walked up to the handy little monitor and didn’t see a slot for “Newburgh.” Well, that wasn’t a good sign. I did what any normal daughter would do... I called my dad. Unfortunately, it was 8:40 and dad’s phone was off. Ok, next option was to ask someone who worked there. I calmly explained my situation to this man at the gate I had just exited, and the man kindly explained that I had to take a shuttle to gate F. No mistake, apparently. My plane was gonna start boarding in 15 minutes, so I had to hoof it. This lady started following me and in a similar panic voice to my own, asked if I was going to gate F. Why, yes, I was. Apparently the man I talked to had told her to follow me... not sure if that was a good idea, but such was the case.

We sprint-walked, following sign after sign for the shuttle. Finally, the escalator down to the busses. There was a long line, so I joined in where I was... then was told to get in the back of the line which wound around the escalator into a dark hallway.

The line moved quickly and before I knew it I was on the bus, and so was my new friend. Both of us were freaking out that both of our planes were now boarding... we got on the bus and met another kindred spirit. But at least we were moving...

it’s a nutty system... we were riding this massive bus on the tarmac? We stopped in the middle of the runway for what felt like an eternity... to let a plane go by. While we were waiting, my two new best friends, in between outbursts of “I’m gonna miss my plane” were taking note of this tiny little plane sitting next to us... I wondered what kind of passengers ride on those. We started moving, passed my gate, and wound up on the complete opposite side of where I needed to be. Great.

You gotta understand something, the reason I blog about this in great detail is because this is only my second time flying by myself... no my third, but my second dealing with a layover. I walked as fast as my short little legs could take me and found a whopping three people at my gate. Boarding was closed. Except for a “Grace Coleman? Where is Grace Coleman?”

“I’M GRACE COLEMAN!”

“Ok, you’re gonna walk out this door and get on that plane over there... DFR” or something... all I saw was that tiny little plane I mentioned earlier. She scanned my boarding pass, and I was back on the tarmac... this time walking to my plane. By myself. I looked at one of the luggage guys and yelled to him “Will you go with me?!” The friendly soul answered “I gotcha on this one...” I climbed up the stairs to see 30 people staring at me blankly. Without trying to make eye contact with ANYBODY, I tried to spot the other 3 guild people... The only stewardess on this flight looked at me with this “are you lost?” type look... for a minute, I forgot everything. Was I supposed to give her my name? No, silly. Seat number. C3. Ok, sitting now.

The plane started up and it sounded like one of those old, broken wall unit air conditioners... not a good sound. The plane was shaking from the propellers. My dad used to always say I can be afraid when he’s afraid... but this time my dad wasn’t here. So I applied this rule of thumb to the stewardess, who although she’s trained not to panic, looked extremely comfortable and calm.

That’s enough for now. We’ve already begun our descent. My heart has finally started to slow down and I’ve caught my breath. I’m hungry and pretty sure my suitcase didn’t make it on the plane seeing how I barely did. U.S. Airways, thank for the adventure... not sure if I’ll pick you again, unless of course you’re the cheapest again.

6:56pm
Just finished dinner... getting ready to rehearse with my new friend Caroline... more later.

The Guild

Well, here I am. Not packed, but pretty sure I'm prepared. I have this lingering feeling that something's about to happen and everything is about to change. Maybe not, but I might as well brace myself, right?

I leave early Sunday morning for New Paltz, NY to attend The Lamplighter Guild for Creative Disciplines. I suppose the reason I feel this way is because of how this all came about.

I don't know how, but somehow I'm on the email list for Lamplighter Publishers. Around the middle of this past school semester I received an update from them that particularly caught my eye:

"Calling All Musicians!"

I opened it. Turns out, Lamplighter was putting on this guild that would feature a focus on composition... and not just any composition, but the kind that I had described in every college application I had sent out: Music that conveys thought; melodies that intensify emotions.

Apparently, Lamplighter has taken over Focus on the Family's radio drama, and John Campbell composes most, if not all, of the music for them. I suppose film score is the closest thing I can compare this to, except, and I dare say, that radio drama is better cause there's more room for imagination. Anyway, this guy knows what's up. I get a 15 minute lesson with him, and also get to learn about voice acting, screen writing, and other aspects of production. To say I'm excited would be the skinniest understatement of the month.

And what better place than to have it here? Can you say inspiring??

I did my research AND THEN found the price tag... not cute. I started going back and forth with Christina, who has been coordinating everything and doing a fantastic job. I discovered there was some scholarship $$ available, but not enough. My family and I prayed about it, but there was no way I could afford this.

So I forgot about it.

Time passed. I got home from school. This was gonna be a pretty boring summer from the looks of my empty calender. Then I had a little chat with my dad... who, in short, told me that he had casually mentioned the guild to a friend in a conversation, and this friend called him back later and said, "I want Grace to go to this."

So, I'm going.

It's a trite statement, but a true one... God works in mysterious ways. I think the biggest lesson so far in this is that we all have dreams, and sometimes we have to let the dream die before God will bless it. I'm convinced that before the beginning of time, God determined that at 6:00am July 17, 2011, Grace Coleman would be on her way to New York, scared out of her shorts, but excited about what's in store. This will be the first time that I will have to do things on my own... talk for myself... lead worship, possibly just me and my piano... but it's no accident, and apparently not too much for me to handle. Thankfully God equips those whom He calls.

I'll be blogging every night to keep y'all updated, if you feel so inclined to know what I've be up to. Facebook is deactivated for now... and I won't be texting either, unless it's the case of an emergency. Maybe that technology cut is that *big thing* that I feel is getting ready to happen ;)

Would appreciate your prayers.

Introverts... represent!

Despite all my masstexts that I send out weekly saying things like "chickfila, yall" and "movie night tonight. my place" and "menchies after Bible study" Yeah, despite all that, after almost 20 years of living, I finally discovered that I am, in fact, an introvert. My mom told me :)

I was reminded of this last Sunday... it was a good Sunday. I had had a very social week, then a very social morning at church, then a very social lunch with my family and the Shuff's, then was getting ready for a social praise team practice, followed by a social Bible study... I was starting to panic. I love being with people, I really do. I've been blessed with the most awesome friends and family I could ask for. But somewhere in there I had the difficult job of explaining to my sister that I had 20 minutes before I had to leave, and I needed to just be by myself.

I stubled upon this nugget on Adam Young's blog which apparently he got from Carl King (whoever that is...) So I pass on, these 10 myths about introverts.


aaaannd this computer won't let me copy and paste. so... here.

Pride

Tomorrow is my favorite day of the year. I will be spending it with some of my favorite people in one of my favorite places driving one of my favorite cars, wearing colors that when mixed together make my favorite color... ok, you get the picture.

Why such a favorite day? A friend of mine asked me that and I had to think for a minute.

Being with friends and family? priceless
Eating great food? perfect
Fireworks? breathtaking
On the water? exhilarating

But there was something else...

So many days I wonder what this country is coming to. Dad's sermon today was a reminder that while we have our Declaration of Dependence, that "dependence" only applies to Britain and in actuality it's declaring our dependence on our Creator, Almighty God. How do we not see that anymore?

I'm not gonna rant and rave about it... but there's obviously a problem, rooting with the misinterpretation of separation of church and state. God, Your mercy astounds me.

So... why is Independence Day my favorite day of the year?

Because I truly am proud to be an American.

I've always been... but especially after visiting other countries. Even while our conviction is waning, we are still reaping the benefits of being a country founded on the Word of God. I suppose it's the whole freedom thing... I can't explain it. I guess a terrible example would be having school pride, even though the school might have a horrendous football team.

I remember having a conversation in Africa with a Tanzanian man and him asking me what country I was from...

"America"

Maybe it was then that I realized how blessed I am to live in this country and that not everyone shares that feeling. I had been removed, and thus able to look back and realize that the privilege had been there all along. And now I'm gonna give up trying to explain how I feel... except to say that I'm happy here.

Happiness.

Jesus and music and bright colored paisleys
Coffee, Dark Chocolate, and pink gerbera daisies
Chick-fil-a, friendship, and Tanzanite rings
These are few of my favorite things

Patiently (Psalm 40)

This was one of those times when I was having my quiet time and the words of the psalm I was reading seemed to rearrange themselves into musical and rhythmic sense.

Ever since I started tackling this song, I've been reminded of prayers that seem to have been met with the answer "wait." It's been a challenge to myself to wait patiently on the Lord, knowing that His timing is perfect.

Recording isn't amazing, but just so you can get an idea of what I had in mind... enjoy :)

Patiently (Psalm 40) by Grace Coleman

Blessed is he who has made the Lord his trust
And has not turned to the proud
Many Oh, God are the wonders You have done
And Your thoughts toward us
I cannot proclaim with words so few
Their number is so great
Oh God there is none to compare with You
For You

Heard my cry and inclined Your ear to me
When I waited patiently
Strengthened my steps put a rock under my feet
When I waited patiently
Noticed me when I had lost my way
Pulled me out of the miry clay
Gave me a new song I could sing
When I waited patiently

Sacrifice for my sin is not required
You have opened up my ears
And I delight to do what You desire
Your law is dwelling here
Your righteousness I will proclaim
I could never hide Your love
My lips will never be restrained

Be pleased, Oh Lord, to deliver me
Make haste, Oh Lord, to help me

Cause countless evils they come and surround
My sin covers up my eyes
My heart has failed and I am overwhelmed
By those who seek my life
Lord, let my enemies be ashamed
Who in my pain, delight
But let those rejoice who seek Your face

© 2011 Grace Coleman

Dreams

I am currently hiding under my covers from the cold air coming out of my AC vent. I just drank an Emergen-C and an orange juice slushy. That's right. I've come down with... something.

I never remember my dreams, but my 3.5 hour nap this morning/afternoon concluded with a rather terrifying one that I remember in greater detail than most.

I was back at Chick-fil-A. Not dining, but working. Lots had changed since I had worked there last. The menu was all backwards and the cash registers had digressed in technological development. Despite my frustration over not being able to figure out the new (or ancient) system I was trying to greet guests in the usual, cheerful, Chickfila style.

"Can I help you?" I said to the next lady in line. "I mean, serve you?"

For description's sake, she was a rather large woman with shoulder length, stringy, brown hair. She was wearing a pink, sleeveless shirt. Her son was also on the big side and wore very round glasses.

The lady started placing her order, then all of the sudden, she and her son were behind the counter pointing at the menu with one hand and dragging their trays along in the other. I was pretty sure that in the six months I had been gone, this had not become standard procedure. However, I went along with it (customer's always right, right?). Eventually she started getting her own food, and heading back into the kitchen area. I said to a coworker, "What is she doing? Someone needs to stop that lady!" I turned around back to the front desk and figured I would go ahead and help the next guest, seeing how this lady was acting way out of hand. The next guest was a nice lady, but confused as to what she wanted and her accent wasn't helping much. "I want a number 9 on wheat bread."

Wheat bread... wheat bread... I found some button on the touch screen for bread choices, but the font was so small I could hardly read it. Who designs these things?! If I had been truly thinking, a number 9 is a chicken salad sandwich meal, which already comes on wheat bread. Apparently that part of the menu had not changed. However, I wasn't thinking very clearly and continued to search for the camouflaged button.

Her food was brought out on a tray as I wrapped up her order. Suddenly, Miss Do-it-Yourself was back. She shoved her way to the front of the line and grabbed the tray sitting in front of me. I quickly grabbed the other side of the tray, initiating a tug-of-war, and said "What are you doing? This isn't your food!"

She was mad. Really mad. She threw down her side of the tray, and started asking for a manager. I wasn't worried about what she would say to him, because I knew her story was so ridiculous, and I was in the right.

Eventually, she stormed off.

A little while later she was back. Still mad. Apparently, a motorcycle was her means of transportation. She barged in, her son still at her side, took off her helmet, and threw it at me. It was a rather large helmet... about 5 feet long. My friend/coworker went to block the helmet from hitting me with the intention of disposing of it when I said, "wait, I need to hide behind that thing!" While all this was happening, FBI agents began crashing through the windows from five different corners of the building. They could have just used the doors, now that I think about it. They instantly began holding customers under suspicion.

The lady yelled at me and said "You better run while you have your chance!" The statement only made sense at the time.

I figured that while the lady obviously had a loose screw, she was probably right. I patted my pockets to make sure I had my keys, my wallet, and my phone (three things I never carry in my pockets all at once) and squeezed past two of the FBI agents, out through a whole in the wall.

Where was my car? Though there were only a few customers inside, the parking lot was jammed. I could see the agents' charcoal-colored Dodge Chargers scattered throughout the lot. I was running around the building as fast as I could, but felt as though I was running under water. Still couldn't find my little black Jetta. Finally, after I had made a complete circle, there she was. I've always thought Jettas were cute cars, but now she looked adorable.

Before I knew it, I was pulling out onto the main road. While I was an employee at this particular CFA, I was totally unfamiliar with the roads. I followed the signs to the nearest highway, going as fast as I could without breaking the law. "North. I just have to start heading north." I made it on the north bound highway. I didn't want to call my parents cause I didn't want them to worry. I wasn't in trouble, but I sorta was... running for my life? I would have kept accelerating, but right after I got on the highway, I saw an accident up ahead... on both sides of the road, leaving only the middle lane open. I had to get past both sides of flashing lights without getting caught. I decided this would be a good time to call my dad. I hit the speed dial and suddenly heard the second half of the church's answering machine. A section of the message started repeating itself. Not good.

All at once, my phone started vibrating. I opened my eyes, and was never so happy to be woken up by a text. It was from my dad. The end.

Thoughts from the Rebelution

I realize this is a long post, so if you skim it or don't read it at all, that's fine. I posted this partly for your encouragement and partly so I wouldn't forget.

Last weekend was one to be remembered for a lifetime. But in order for you to understand how wonderful it was for me, I must go back a couple years.

When I was in 10th grade, I was sitting in my English class and we were going over the vocabulary for that week. Nothing out of the ordinary, until we came to the word “Transcend.”

“It means to rise above or go beyond” Mrs. Bush informed us.

My mind instantly began to consume this word. My definition was more like a lifestyle. The thought occurred to me, “what if the youth of today adapted this word; transcending mediocrity and the standards the world has set for them?” It could be huge.

I began planning. I was writing songs and lesson plans that all centered around this idea of “transcending.” I don’t know how, but around the same time, I came across Colossians 3. “Set your minds on things above.” This was no accident.

A friend of my mom said to me, “You know, there’s these two brothers out there... their names are Alex and Brett Harris and they have something called The Rebelution. They have great hair.” I checked out their site... it was cool, and they did have great hair.

I started talking to my youth pastor about this transcend idea. He seemed to like it. “You know,” he said, “these brothers Alex and Brett Harris have this thing called The Rebelution and it basically says the same thing you’re talking about.”

The irrational part of me didn’t like this. Alex and Brett "stole" my idea and were getting more publicity. (talk about transcending...) but that was not the biggest concern. I still had a passion. So, my youth pastor made a dream come true for me and for Vacation Bible College adapted this Transcend idea as the main theme.

I quickly found out what his lessons were gonna be about so I could write a song for each day. I was so excited. This was finally happening.

Well, the week came and went. It was awesome. We were all challenged to rise above, myself included.


So now fast-forward to last weekend.


I had been keeping up with Alex and Brett’s blog and read that their final Rebelution tour would be happening this summer, kicking off in Orlando. My mom found this out, too, and began brainstorming on how to get me there. Everything fell in place, and suddenly I was in the car with my mom, my best friend Leah, and my two cousins headed toward Orlando.

Well actually, we were headed for Cocoa Beach for some shopping the day before. And man, was that an awesome day. I got my Dunkin Donuts, Chickfila, and TacoBell fix, got some new threads, meandered around Target, and then ended a perfect day with a swim in the hot tub. Ahhhhh.

The following morning came way to quickly. Since we were an hour away from Orlando and still had to register a couple people, we had to leave the house at 6:45am. I don’t know how, but we managed to get 5 girls ready by then.

The ride over was filled with some singing and lots of Lord of the Rings Discussion (one of the many books/movies I have never read/seen, and thus had no valuable information or opinion to bring to the table).

We arrived in time to get some chicken minis from Chickfila, register the girls, write out our name tags, and get settled. I followed my mom down to the fifth row. Inside I knew something big was about to happen, but I had no idea what.

The conference kicked off with some songs I didn’t know, and then out they walked... Alex and Brett. Legends in my world of Transcending. They went through some housekeeping guidelines and explained that each wireless remote that each person from ages 12-18 held in their hand for poll taking... yeah those things... each one cost $100.00, so they must be returned and that they (Alex and Brett) had high expectations for each kid returning them. They gave away some books and some T-shirts using a pump-rocket to pick the lucky winner. Then we took a ten minute break.

Alex lead the first session: The Myth of Adolescence. Here’s just a snippet from the notes I took.... I must apologize for I am a sporadic note taker. Be thankful you don’t have to read my handwriting.

"100 years ago, there was no category for teens. They were expected to do an adult’s job. Modern Youth Culture says “Keep them entertained for five years.” The current ceiling is where the floor should be. The Bible doesn’t address teens. No categories for them. 1 Corinthians 13:11 “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.” NOT: When I became a teenager, I looked like an adult, talked like an adult, but acted like a child.... what?! We have been called to be exemplary. (1 Tim 4:12... all of it) This is our launching pad."

************

Then Brett came out and did the second session: Do Hard Things. Again, here’s some notes.

Life as we know it; what has changed? These challenges you face today are no bigger than back then. (honestly, when I heard that I thought to myself, “prove it”) If you take a large and a small container and fill them both up half way with water, which is holding more? Neither. They each are half full. The complexity of our problems has changed. The difficulty has not. We’ve grown with our challenges. The most radical (and only) growth that takes place is when you are outside of your comfort zone. Our culture expects more of babies than it does of teenagers. Have you really found your limits? Or are you just where others expect you to be? Whatever God is calling you to do, why aren’t you doing it?!? What God has placed in you, you must pull out for yourself. Society won’t help you pull it out. The testing of your faith develops perseverance. It’s a muscle. You don’t get anything without effort.

Hard Things:

1) Fighting sin in your life
2) Battling discouragement and complacency
3) Doing more than what's required
4) Getting over your fear of failure (Proverbs 24:16 "for though a righteous man falls seven times, he rises again..."
5) Focus on the small things
6) chose your best life (not your easiest life)

Call normal what is normal. Save the word "excellent" for the things that really are.
God's standard isn't to be the best, but to be holy.
You never have an excuse to stop. Never enough.
It's not about what you're not doing, it's about what you're doing.
There is always something harder to do.
If you want to get stronger, you can't lift what's heavy for others. You have to lift what's heavy for you.
It's ok to fail at hard things. Push to failure.

**********

Once the session was over my mom insisted that I go up and get Brett Harris to sign my book. I was reluctant. I get so nervous in these situations of meeting famous people. But I didn’t really have a choice. Mom basically grabbed my arm and dragged me up there. There were only three or four people in front of me, all shoving their books and pens in Brett’s face. I was praying that I wouldn’t say anything stupid. Finally, it was my turn.

“Hi, could you sign this for me?” I somehow managed to get those words out without my voice cracking or tripping over my tongue.

“Sure!” He began signing away. “Thanks for coming!”

“Oh, thanks for doing this! It’s been great... really encouraging. Would you have time for a picture?”


***************

We ate our picnic lunch and talked about how wonderful the conference had been so far. Seriously, it was some of the best speaking I have ever heard.

Then Brett lead session three: The You That is Really You.

"What does the real YOU really want? Every creature is bound by its nature to want what it wants. You can't want something you don't want. Ezekiel 36:23-27; 1 John 3:10; 3:14-18. You can tell where someone's heart is by whether they are practicing righteousness. Are you trying to get better at practicing righteousness or practicing sinning? Or are you a fruit-stapler? (ex: a crab-apple tree with sweet apples stapled to it's branches; a wolf in sheep's clothing) 1 Tim 3:1-5. The real you will eventually be exposed."

I eventually noticed that Brett was starting to focus on an audience within the audience... those that had yet to place their faith in Christ. He gave a beautiful presentation of the Gospel. Thorough and personal. Brett took a poll asking the audience about their relationship with God. How often do you pray because you know God is real and listens? How often do you read His Word because it’s life-giving? How often do you obey Him because you know it’s the right thing to do? Often? Every now and then? Never?

Conviction.

I looked over to the next row and noticed a young boy, about 11 or 12 years old, crying. God was obviously working in his life.

Then Brett asked how many of those in the room knew for certain that they had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. About 75% answered yes. Of the 25% remaining, Brett asked how many would like to have a relationship with Jesus Christ. If I remember correctly, 90% (105 people) answered yes. And that’s only the people who had a remote. Brett did something that I have never seen done before. Previously, he had mentioned Romans 10:9:

“If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.”

So with that in their minds, Brett said:

“Normally, during this time, every head would be bowed, every eye closed, and those who want to make a decision would simply raise their hand. But if you can slip into the Kingdom that easily, you can slip out of the Kingdom that easily. So, with the lights on and every eye open, I want those who want to follow Christ to stand and yell ‘Jesus Christ is Lord’ and the rest of you, I want you to not applaud.”

Three people stood up that I could see, including the young boy I had mentioned earlier, and said with conviction “Jesus Christ is Lord.” Then one by one, all around the room, I could hear “Jesus Christ is Lord.” “Jesus Christ is Lord.” “Jesus Christ is Lord.”

Brett extended the invitation saying “Some of you parents need to make a decision.” Then he waited.

“Jesus Christ is Lord.”

After a slight lull, Brett gave the invitation one more time.

“Oh God, break these chains” I prayed.

I heard two more confess “Jesus Christ is Lord.”

Brett said a few more words. Then he said, “I know everyone is dying to jump up and shout ‘Jesus Christ is Lord’ so on the count of three.....”

One....

Two...

Three...

An overwhelming feeling came over me as I jumped to my feet and reaffirmed my faith saying, “Jesus Christ is Lord” I couldn’t shout cause I was fighting back so many tears.

Those who had just placed their faith in Christ were called to the front. As they made their way up we sang “My chains are gone; I’ve been set free.”

I don't know how to appropriately move on from that special moment. But there was one more session. A type of "where do we go from here?" session. Very helpful, to me especially, since it went beyond the teen years (seeing how I am no longer a teen.)

Session four: What Does it Mean to be A REBELUTIONARY?

1) This year. What's next?

*Find the secret rebelutionaries (by being an obvious one) 2 Tim 2:22
*Make friends with heros and dead people (Read. A lot.) 1 Cor 11
*Change SOMETHING. Not temporary. Might mean a change in your surroundings.

2) This year. Lifestyle--what does it look like?

*Doing the ordinary things extraordinarily well. It's a commitment to excellence and integrity. Faithfulness over success.
*Saying "no" to conflicting obligations. Hebrews 12:1
*Looking for opportunities to grow. Take on challenges. Pursue opportunities that glorify God.

3) This decade. How does it apply beyond the teen years?
Faithful with little --> faithful with much.

*Being strategic to bust the myth of adolescence. Humbly. An exception only proves the rule.
*Focused on preparing the future
*Don't be paralyzed. Not afraid to commit. "Just do something"

The teen years are not about the teen years. Again, this is the launching pad.

**************


We left the conference, grabbed some Chipotle, and were on the road. It was over just like that. But it wasn't over. It was just beginning. Or, rebeginning, I suppose I should say. Where had the passion gone from when I was in high school to see people my age rise above the world's expectations for them? There it was. I came to grips with the fact that it had been a long time since I had done a "hard thing." It was easy while I was in high school. Well, not "easy" but easier than now, since expectations were so low for people my age. Not that I did what I did to be noticed, but I think people were easily impressed.

After I graduated, I didn't know where to go. I began to slack off. I easily found excuses to not follow my conviction of rising above. I suppose my mind set was "You worked hard in high school.... you need to catch your breath for a while." Well, that while is up. It hasn't been hard to find hard things to do since I left the Rebelution. I'm scarred to recommit, but I am more scared to be one of those "kiddults" Alex and Brett talked about... those who are in their twenties and are still children. No responsibility. No purpose. Well, I have a purpose, and I need to live it out. Praise God, I am ready to do hard things.

Reader's Undigest

Oh no! Oh no!

I don't like to read. :'(

What am I supposed to do??

http://www.readfaster.com/readingquotes.asp

I don't even know what they all say. Cause I didn't read them.

And if you don't read, you don't go anywhere.

Leaders are readers... or is it the other way around?

Are you even reading this?

When I was a kid (and even now) I was/am the figure it out on your own type child. I never read directions. I looked at the picture on the box. Most of the time it turned out ok (My dad was an engineer... otherwise I would be hopeless)

I'm scared.

I want to go places in life... but I want to see the places for real. I don't want to read about them on a page. I want to see how red the roses are or how pristine the water is for myself.

GRANTED: I have read a few books. They were good, which is why I read them. Some of them were for school, but some I actually chose to read on my own. And I am a better person because of those books (The Bible, The Hiding Place, Brother Andrew, God's Smuggler, Twenty and Ten, The Screwtape Letters... just to name a few)

I don't know what to do. It's one thing to read a biography or war stories or something that actually happened. But fiction? I'm not even gonna go there.

Ok, I am now only rambling and making you read about how much I don't like reading.

Please don't get me wrong. Reading is a wonderful, valuable, even crucial thing. "The keeey that takes you where you want to beeee" as my grandma says. And now I am staring at a blinking line thingy because I don't know what to say about where that leaves me.

I will say this though... my "figure it out on your own" personality is no exception to the life-instructions of the Bible. I cling to those teachings and directions with everything I am. I do, in fact, love God's Word, and the only way I can know it for myself is to read it. And right now... that is my hope to hang in there and keep reading.

The Life of the Church Pianist

Normally, when I hear the title "The Church Pianist" a few things come to mind..

1) A woman.
2) Grey hair.
3) Knit sweaters.
4) Hymnals.

First off. Nothing is wrong with the above characteristics. Nothing. However, there are a few exceptions to the stereotype. I think I once saw a guy pianist. Another exception? Oh yeah. Me.

Wait... I'm not much of an exception. I am a woman. I have quite a few silver hairs. I own a knit sweater or two. And I love hymns. Yep, so far so good.

This blog's purpose is to unveil a little more than a bird's eye view of what it's like to play piano at church. Well, my take on the position, at least.

I've actually been singing at church longer than I've been playing. I enjoy it equally as much, so I hope you don't mind, but I'm gonna talk about it just as much.

I was three years old when I sang my first solo in church. "O Holy Night" I don't remember it, but we got it on the trusty ol' camcorder. Thus began the tradition of a solo each Christmas.

I do remember the first time I played piano at church. Well, actually it was an outdoor, night service. I was doing a duet with my friend Molly on the violin. I was old enough, this time, to be a nervous wreck. We had gone through our one song (Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus) about 38,234,922 times, and finally we were getting close to doing it for real. Dad (who happens to be my pastor) had explained to us when we would come up to play. I stood in the back waiting for my cue. I thought I had been given "the eye" so I started making my way to the front, only to have my dad calmly and discreetly put his hand up to say "not yet." So I waited some more.
The time came. We played our song. I probably messed up a heap. I don't remember.

Not long after that, I got to play in "real" church. I was so nervous I couldn't talk to anyone before the service started. I just had to meander all around and not look anyone in the eye. We had our service in the rounds that particular Sunday with only a piano to back up the vocalists. I was completely glued to the music. At one point I lost my spot on the page and had to just completely stop. That was pretty humiliating. Thankfully, everyone else kept going and I eventually rejoined. There was a handy little "transposition" button on this particular keyboard that I was supposed to press to take one of the songs down three half steps. Yeah, I forgot to do that too.

Backing up a couple years, I was around 11 years old, about to sing my annual Christmas song at church. This year I was recycling Chris Rice's "Welcome to our World" which I had sung a few years back. I got through the first verse, then began the second... only it was the fourth. I spit the first line out, realized what I had done, stopped singing, stared at the mic for a second, then heard a big, fat "UUUUUUGGGGGHHH" escape my lips as the palm of my hand met my forehead. Yep, there was no covering this one. I think I decided to give the tradition a rest after that.

Well, after a personal little musical respite, we decided to move on from doing worship at church with CDs and we hired a worship leader who both sang and played piano. I suppose it was shortly after my first time playing in church that we were preparing for a Good Friday service. The team needed a soprano, and somehow I found myself filling the position. I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't really think I was a soprano, so when the notes got to high I just started lip-singing.

"Grace, you need to sing louder!"

I probably heard that a million times. I just wasn't getting it. I don't know how, but I stayed on the team. I eventually began to get used to singing so high. I remember one week John Rabe Jr. came up to me and said, "I actually heard you today!"

Each week, Ira (our worship leader at the time) would hammer each person's part on the piano, then we'd sing through the songs with everyone else. The couple times that Ira was out of town, guess who got to fill in? Me. I didn't like sight reading SATB, even if I didn't have to do it all at once. It was scary.

Eventually I started playing more regularly. The church bought a fancy shmancy Yamaha S90 (the keyboard we kept seeing at all these major venues... had to be good if they were using it) so I was able to experiment a little with the miscellaneous sounds of the Roland. However, I mainly kept to singing... in my soft, signature way.

When Ira and his wife moved to NC, someone asked me if I was going to be the next pianist. I don't remember how I answered her, but I do remember thinking, "I sure hope not."

After a couple weeks of inconsistent rehearsals and ensemble members switching in and out, we had an interview with a guy named Craig Shuff. I had been filling in on keys since there was no one else and somewhere in all the confusion, playing and singing had been combined, so when Craig came for his trial Sunday, I continued on as I had been... little did Craig know how little experience I had. He quickly found out.

I didn't know all that I was in for. That Sunday was an amazing worship service. Craig was hired. And since he lead on guitar, I kept playing piano. I was still very green, but everyone was patient with me. I eventually got in the groove of pounding out everybody's parts, and finally got over the awkward coordination of moving my mouth and moving my fingers in different directions. It's like patting your head and rubbing your belly. Just doesn't work at first.

I think back to myself on what was so hard at first... and now it seems so natural. There's a lot of things that don't make sense about it. So many things that can only be explained by God's sovereignty and grace.

Every now and then I run into struggles, however. And it's always a heart issue.

For instance, a few weeks ago, I was getting ready for church. For one Sunday, I was not in a rush. I was listening to pandora, enjoying the sun streaming into my room while putting on my make-up, when my dad came in. "You know, today I'm gonna mention that song 'The Love of God' it just fits so perfectly with my sermon..."

"Uh huh..." I didn't really know where he was going with this. Surely he wasn't going to ask me to play it. Nah... I mean, we've done last minute, Saturday night changes before but... no, he wouldn't do that. Not minutes before I'm supposed to leave for practice.... no.....

"Is there any way you could play it and sing it for the invitation?"

I could hardly believe my ears. I don't like admitting that I didn't want to do it. And my reasons were lacking in validity.

"You don't have to make it fancy.... it would just fit so perfectly."

I think I gave him somewhat of a "possibly" for an answer (how selfish I am). I kept getting ready, warmed up my voice a little more than I usually do, went over to the piano, INSTANTLY found my music for "The Love of God" (that almost never happens), and was out the door.

We ran through the set, and I started perusing the sheet music, my heart still not in the right place. After my dad got to church, I ran through it with the mic. It was rough. I ran through it again. A little better, but still rough. But I was gonna do it.

Then dad preached. There's something about the message of God's love that is captivating and can change hearts--like mine. By this point I had pretty much given up the selfishness in me that was clinging to my comfortable Sunday morning. Then Dad did what he said he was going to do... he started quoting the song and the story behind it. These lyrics were found engraved on the walls of an insane-asylum....

Could we with ink the ocean fill?
Or were the skies of parchment made?
Were every stalk on earth a quill
And every man a scribe by trade.
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry
Nor could the scroll contain the whole
Though stretched from sky to sky

By this point, I was practically excited about getting ready to sing. Before I knew it, dad was closing in prayer. This was it. I moved up to the front and started playing while he wrapped up his prayer. I was shaking a little... nervous, yes. In awe of the love of God, even more. Something came over me as I started singing. The reluctance I felt earlier, replaced now with great enthusiasm to sing such powerful words. The nervousness, overcome with unexplainable confidence. I got to the middle of the song, which is just a reflection time of "Hallelujahs." I was lost. And this time, not on the page.

"Oh Love of God, how rich and pure, how measureless and strong; it shall forever more endure the saints and angels song"

I'm still blown away by what a privilege it was to be up there... to be up there, every week. Yes, it's a ministry, but its a sweet experience of God's grace. Every time. Why me? How did I get so blessed to take part in this?

Blown away.

There was a time in my life when I really didn't want to keep playing piano. Pretty sure a begged my parents to let me quit. Thankfully, they didn't relent. Learning the art of pressing down on 88 hammers has opened up so many doors. Correction, God has opened so many doors... but they were all on the same musical hall. Learning how to play the piano has taken me to places like Germany, gotten me into a great school, struck up several friendships, but most importantly, it's given me an avenue of worship to my God and King. A sweet communion that I can't explain. What an amazing gift music is--and it is enjoyed most when given back to the Giver.

Sweet Nothings

Here goes.

I wrote this about a year ago, maybe? Didn't have anybody in mind.

It's sappy.

This is just a rough demo that I threw into Garageband, so here's the lyrics in case you can't get all the words... or if you're just feeling saccharine.
Sweet Nothings by Grace Coleman

I don't want to waste your time
On some poetry that I don't understand
When all I know is it takes only three words to say "I love you"
So, I will say those three words time and time again

I'd be a fool to tell you how I feel
And if I did, I wouldn't know where to begin
But then again, I am a fool so in love with you
And so far, you seem to love me for the fool I am

Please turn my way to hear these sweet nothings I have to say
And I will tell them to you time and time again

Sweet Nothings © Grace Coleman 2010.

Clellisms.

My Grandpa (aka PaPa) has several phrases that he says from time to time. Some of them are concisely profound. Most of them put me in stitches cause they are said with utmost comedic timing. I'm hoping to one day find some way to string them together and put a melody to them, but in the mean time, I thought I'd share just some of them. I'll probably add to the list as I remember them...


My get-up-and-go got up and went.

Stepped in what?

Lemme hep you with that.

Aww, get off it.

Now here's an idea...

I'm doing so good I can hardly stand it.

Stick with me, I'll show you the way.

Da-dum.

We do today what others won't do, so that we can do tomorrow what others can't do.

He was just sitting there with his teeth in his mouth.

Haalloh? Haalloh. This is the papa.

There are three parts to a job: Get it out, use it, put it away. (Normally hear this one when I leave stuff out in the yard...)

If they all weren't sitting on their brains...

ACKtually...

This has been a little bit of sarindipity.

Oh, mooah.

Well, shoot yourself.

Come on, Maude!

It'll do ya good and hep ya too.

Isn't that the berries?

Remember who you are.

The most boring blog ever about teeth.

I've kinda always prided myself in having straight teeth. I remember going out to breakfast with a pastor and his wife and him randomly interrupting the conversation to say, "You have great teeth."

I remember going to the dentist and him telling me my wisdom teeth were coming in, but they shouldn't be a problem. Then I remember him seeing that they were starting to crowd my mouth, and if things got too crowded I could kiss my teeth's straightness goodbye, but there was no rush. Then they got infected. Well, that certainly wasn't fun. X-ray after x-ray... we were moving closer to an extraction. Of course, the oral surgeon suggested taking all of them out (why wouldn't he? it's his job.) Are you still reading this? I'm sorry.

Sigh. My mouth hurts.

So today happened. We've been saying it for years. "Gotta get those wisdom teeth out... they're impacted, you know"

I don't even know what that means.

But today was the day. Yes, they are gone. Well, two of them at least.

There's a gaping hole in my mouth.

And there's nothing natural about that.

I have been swallowing blood for nine hours now.

There's nothing natural about that either.

I feel lopsided.

First came yet another x-ray. Somehow I think there had been some confusion as to which teeth were supposed to come out (always a comforting thought...)

"Bite down" she said.

"I can't"

There was a woppin piece of cardboard in my mouth. Unfortunately it moved the first time so she had to do it again. She stuck the thing so far back in my mouth I started to gag. "Off to a great start" I thought to myself. At least she was nice and sympathetic about it.

Then I got moved to another room. It was cold. There were fish all over the wall. There was a stuffed lizard on that light thingy and a whale on the ceiling. I got my first dose of numbage. Then the doctor came in. Laid me down, propped my mouth open with some sort of crowbar, and said his famous line "Just a little pinch" Yep. Then he asked for another syringe. "Yes. Get it good and unfeelable." I telempified. The lady who took my x-rays held my hand as he emptied the second shot. All earlier choking was forgiven.

Then they both left. I was alone. I was wearing a Dr. Seuss bib. I felt myself getting drowsy. Must have been psychological.

Then the other orthodontist lady, who's actually a friend of ours, came in to chat about teeth. She asked me how I was doing. I went to answer her and realized that my lip was numb, which made it very difficult to speak. Somehow I communicated that I was doing fine. Then the doctor came back in and the fun began.

"Just gonna loosen things up a bit" he said. No problem. He started digging around on the bottom. Yep, we were good down there. Then he started digging on the top. I felt *something* and instantly started to panic. If I felt that... what in the world was coming? I didn't want to know. Apparently that *something* began the bleeding process.

"That feel Ok?" He asked.

"Well...."

A third syringe presented itself.

"Go ahead and close your mouth"

That... was a difficult task by this point.

Ah, then the excitement began. "You're just gonna feel a little pressure" He explained. I could deal with that. He asked for something called an "elevator" I thought that was the mouth propper thing... apparently it wasn't. He started pushing and pulling and.... turning? Like a screwdriver. Those wrist movements just didn't look right. Eventually he asked for some other tool... we'll call it "the first pair of pliers." He started to pull.

Nothing.

Back and forth he went between the elevator and the pliers. I was praying that he wouldn't have to cut my tooth. He kept pushing and pulling. I didn't know my mouth could stretch that far and in those directions. He eventually took a break from the bottom tooth and started working on the top. I heard a gut-wrenching ripping noise. Now, that was just gross.

He kept having to wipe my mouth out with those gauze square things... eventually his fingers went a little too far and I felt myself starting to gag again. Not cool.

Anywho. He continued to push and pull. I thought eventually I would see the thing fly up in the air... but no. Finally. It broke loose. "Ah, now for the hard one he said."

Also not cool. But also, not true. Just a joke. Always get a dentist with a sense of humor."

The top one came right out. The dentist left promptly as the lady cleaned up my teeth. She asked me if I wanted to see them. I felt as if I was getting to see my new born twins after hours of labor (actually the procedure was only 45 minutes). We sat there and stared at the teeth lovingly for a few minutes. "You were very brave" she said.

Oh goodness.

Actually I was glad she said that. Cause it hurt.

I was not very talkative in the car on the way home. I didn't even want to go into Publix (now that should tell you something right there). I just kept looking at my teeth in the little treasure-box container. They were beautiful. And large. Like, scary large.

I knew I was feeling better when I texted my dad and said I did actually want to go to chickfila (after turning him down a few minutes earlier).

OH! I almost went to bed without putting them under my pillow. I need to go do that.

Goodnight.

Lounging out in the sun for hours on the beach is exhausting.

My room is almost clean.

I can finally say "toy boat" three times fast.

Paisley is the most adorable girl name I have ever heard.

I need to find a money tree.

Philippians 4:19

I played in the rain today and instantly felt amazing. And cold.

I went for a power walk and then the next day was experiencing a great amount of chest pain. Pretty sure my friend's right... exercising is detrimental to one's heath.

Yesterday, a friend and I were going out to eat by boat. Glory asked if she could come along. Her first answer was no. I saw her face just sink as she tried to hold back tears. I felt like holding back tears just from the look on her face. There was no way I could leave her behind. I asked her a little later after talking it over with my friend, "Glory, do you want to go with us to eat?" "CAN I?!?!" "Sure." I wish I had captured her reaction on video because there's no way on earth I can accurately describe how precious it was. I can say, however, that it involved everyone in ear-shot being informed "I'm going on the boat to Senior Frijoles!!!!" I could hear the violins soaring and I wanted to run in slow motion and embrace my sister... so I did.

And I would have posted pictures of our little adventure out to lunch (it was my first time being out in the boat unsupervised) but this blog is being stupid. Thus, I shall retire for the night and bid thee farewell.

Farewell.

Brief visit to my brain.

I'm so tired of cleaning my room.

I went jogging again today and didn't almost die!

Sojourn CDs are 6$ a pop. happiness.

I miss PBA.

A lot needs to happen before I go back.

Matthew 24:36

So many melodies. So few lyrics.

My sister is running around the house quoting/memorizing Scripture. She's awesome.

Dark chocolate snickers.

Where did all these mismatching socks come from?

My God has broke the serpent's teeth and death has lost its sting. - Watts

The graceful and the not.

My life is a story of grace.

Well that was profound.

No, really. Originally this blog was going to be a place where I would hash out song ideas, post bits and pieces, and so on (which I still plan on doing here and there), but now the direction has changed a bit. I've decided to use this here blog as an avenue for recording random happenings in my life that would fall under one of two categories:

1) the graceful
That would not be referring to me. Not until a few years ago did I really begin to grasp the concept of grace (I'm still figuring out the meaning of this word). My definition of grace: unmerited favor; Getting what you don't deserve (and usually in good terms) with the main example being salvation. More and more I am realizing that my life is my name. A quick glance and I see so many areas where the Lord has poured out His grace on me. I was a sinner, deserving nothing but eternal separation from God, and yet I have been spared (mercy) and given new life and the hope of spending eternity with my Savior (grace). And as wonderful as that is, God's grace doesn't end there. I am baffled by the fact that I was an enemy of God, and He not only saved me, but He continues to bless me. Even with mundane pleasures. Every good and perfect gift certainly does come down from the Father of lights who does not change. (James 1:7 continually comes to mind)

2) the not.
Ok, now I am referring to me. Grace in earthly terms seems to refer to... well, as the dictionary on this computer says "simple elegance or refinement of movement; an attractively polite manner of behaving." Oh. Dear. I can not count how many times I have done something clumsy and gotten some crack.... "That's why they call you grace, right?" Right. (See previous blog post... talk about not feeling graceful)

So, in simple terms, may I just say that anything good that happens in my life is from the grace-giving God. Anything not... must be something I come up with on my own. And this blog is a record of both. Some serious stories. Some pointless stories. Some life lessons learned... probably the hard way. Either way, it's a combination of the graceful and the not.

Once upon a time, Grace was out of shape

After a semester of being cooped up in a dorm studying, I’ve been feeling quite motivated to run. Hard. My sister has been running every morning (so proud of her) so I joined her today. I figured it wouldn’t be that hard...

And it wasn’t. Started off fine. Every now and then I’d get tired, but I lasted longer than I thought I would. Even sprinted at the end. Then we got our bikes.

After a half a mile or so, I started feeling a little queasy. Glory was talking about road kill and I had to ask her to stop. I could feel my stomach start cramping up, and I was hoping that with continuous movement it would eventually go away. Nope.

By a mile, I was bad news. I just wanted to get home. Unfortunately, home was a mile away. I told my mom that I needed to ride ahead. All I could do was pray for mercy :-/
Eventually I felt the strength leave my legs. I couldn’t pedal anymore. My head started swimming. I had to get off. I laid down in a random neighbor’s front yard. I couldn’t do anything. I was a mess.

My mom and sister quickly caught up with me. Mom said she’d go get the car. Glory stayed to make sure I didn’t die or anything. I mentioned dying cause I felt like it could happen any minute, and Glory came back with, “Well, it wouldn’t be so bad... you’d go to Heaven.” I was hoping no one would call an ambulance because that just meant prolonged pain. All I wanted was a shower. A hot one.

Unfortunately, I was laying out in a yard on a busy street. I kept wondering if a car would stop, and I would have to explain my situation... hoping that wouldn’t happen, but also kinda shocked that no one wanted to stop and help a poor girl who had fallen off of her bike (at least that’s what it looked like) and couldn’t get back up.

Finally, I saw our Tahoe come over the bridge to the rescue. I somehow found the strength to get up and climb in. For 2 seconds the pain went away and I thought I was going to be OK. Then the 2 seconds were up. I mentioned to my mom that if this is what labor was like, I didn’t want kids. (pretty sure my mom has learned to take statements like these with a grain of salt when I’m in physical or emotional pain)

Well, after an excruciating car ride that lasted approx. three blocks, I was home. I ran inside, shaking from a mix of pain and exhausted muscles. I jumped in the shower and instantly felt better. The end.

five. one. eleven.

I remember exactly where I was. Sitting against a wall in a dentist’s waiting room. I was 10 years old and was listening to Michael W. Smith’s Freedom CD, specifically “The Giving.” I looked up at the TV and saw a jet fly into a tall building. We never watched the news in our house, so I had no idea how big this was. The two ladies sitting across the room were laughing in disbelief. I turned my eyes away from the TV and continued working on my project.

I remember getting into our blue Grand Voyager minivan to go home and my mom crying profusely. I didn’t understand. Apparently there was a TV in the dentist’s room to take the patent’s mind off the pain of a root canal. My mom explained that this probably meant that we would go to war. I started to cry. I also started to sing a song to try to calm us both down.

I remember going to church that night for a last minute prayer meeting... for our country. I met my friend in the back room while the adults prayed and we chatted about the cities we were born in. I still hadn’t grasped what had happened that day. We did talk, though, about what it would have been like running from a fallen building. My friend said he thought it would be fun. I guess he hadn’t grasped it either.

Exactly one year later, I remember standing in a crowded hospital hallway. There were women in rollaway beds with curtains around them in full labor. My mom was fortunate enough to have a room of her own. My sister was one of dozens of children born September 11, 2002. I couldn’t help but think there were so many because of the thousands of lives that were lost on that day the year before. We had a little phrase... “9/11 went from being a tragic day to a joyous day for the Coleman family.” When my dad told the nurse that her name was Glory, she replied “well, that’s patriotic!”

After that, whenever I would look at the clock and it would be 9:11 I would pray. I would pray for those suffering from the attack. I would pray for my sister. I would pray for the other children born on 9/11. They had no choice in the fact that their birthday would forever be tied to a national disaster. My sister is 8 years old and still doesn’t know what happened a year before her birthday. And with good reason.

I remember visiting ground zero in May of 2003. It was moving. I remember wearing red, white, and blue with pride. I remember how our nation was shaken enough to turn back to our Creator. Why was that? Why was it suddenly back to In God We Trust? Why was God supposed to Bless America? Why is it not that way anymore?

I remember, namely, one other thing. I remember praying that God would save Osama Bin Laden. Many times. And now, May 1, 2011, I can’t help but think. Yes, Bin Laden is probably experiencing the unquenchable fires of Hell right now. Yes, it’s normal to think that damnation is only what he deserved. But I also can’t help but think that that’s only what I deserved, too. I can't forget that Osama had a soul that was just as worth saving as mine.

I suppose if I have to have a concluding thought... this is yet another time to rejoice in the salvation we have in Jesus Christ.


Read it slowly, don’t miss the mercy.

“And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest. But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.” - Ephesians 2:1-10