OF HAMMERED DULCIMERS AND RINGING BELLS

CCM Magazine assistant editor Lindsay Williams posted a challenge to musicians – of which I was included - to submit an anecdote about my favorite instrument and how I got it. The winner of the blog will appear in CCM Magazine. I was thankful for the challenge, if only to write something worthwhile! Check it out and if you choose to comment, it would be really awesome if you did it here AND at the CCM site:
www.myccm.org/angelajosephine/blog

“I have been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck.” - Annie Dillard, Pulitzer Prize Winner for Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 1975

I was driving down the road many slivered moons ago, blissfully minding my own darn business, when the Rich Mullin’s song Calling Out Your Name came on the radio and in one fury of a pheasant’s wing (because there are no grouse in Michigan) my life was effectively sideswiped. I guess you could call it my Damascus Road experience and how I got home after that blinding episode is beyond me. All I knew was that if the scales were ever going to fall from my eyes, I had to find my Ananias, which turned out to be an album called, “The World As Best As I Remember It – Volume One”. I also knew that I’d eventually have to get whatever the heck instrument this guy was playing. Never mind that I had no idea who Rich Mullins was or where to begin looking for him. I began by going to my favorite store because I was convinced they carried all the music that counted, but they kept asking me if I meant S h a a a w n Mullins and they said it in a long, drawn-out way like I was some idiot who’d lost her mind on the way there. Up until that point, a Christian bookstore was another planet I had yet to set foot on.

Even so, the album was by far an easier thing to come by than that elusive instrument that God used to lift and strike me. By my own estimation, two instruments had gotten married and given birth to a perfect Middle Eastern child with an Irish brogue. If I couldn’t produce such a miracle on my own behalf, I was willing to adopt. Little did I know that I would spend the next ten years slaving to learn to play piano, guitar and mountain dulcimer, forging an independent music career in the process, before I would actually get the one instrument I had longed for - a hammered dulcimer.

The story of actually GETTING the hammered dulcimer isn’t that remarkable in the way that some stories go. In fact, it’s ridiculously simple and embarrassingly obvious along the lines of, “Why didn’t I think of that?” One day, my husband – of whom I am convinced, is a genius - handed me some information about a dulcimer festival in Evart, MI and said, “Why don’t you just go and buy a hammered dulcimer?” Was he kidding? I mean, wasn’t it supposed to fall out of the sky or arrive in a burning bush or something?

So I went to the festival and met a guy named Dave. The first song he played for me was one of Rich’s and I guess that was the closest thing I was going to get to a burning bush. He told me that if I was looking for a great instrument I should check out the ones made by Bob Tack. I found Bob in the merchandise tent. When he began to play this one in particular, the heavens parted and I recognized that ringing. It matched the one that had been echoing in my heart for over ten years.

So, I bought it.

Now, I am not a gear guru so don’t expect me to remember things like how many strings there are (there are a LOT of them and yes, I have to tune them ALL) or what kind of wood it’s made of (but it IS so pretty).

These are the kinds of thing I remember.

I remember Bob.

I was in Nashville recording Grace Exhaled when the news came that Bob passed away unexpectedly. I had just gotten done in a session with my producer and decided there were questions that needed answering and next to God, there was none other than Bob who could answer them. Bob had become used to my endless barrage of questions that eventually all added up to the same exact question, “Are you sure I’ll be able to sort this thing out?” He assured me that I would. Apparently, he thought he’d given me all the answers I needed.

So I remember Bob and feel like a part of him lives on when I play the instrument he made with his own two hands.

I also remember that sometimes you just have to go and buy a hammered dulcimer, which is by far the best practical advice I have ever been given.

And I remember the most important thing ever. Every time I hit those strings, I am a bell and I was made to call out His name.

VOTE FOR ME IN UNITY FEST CONTEST! (Pretty Please)

Great news!!! My application is accepted and I am officially in the Unity Fest Ovation Contest!

To VOTE click here: VOTE FOR GLORY LORD
Create a login, LISTEN TO AND RATE the song with 5 stars being the best - which is how I hope you'll vote. ;-)

Feel free to PASS IT ON and THANK YOU for taking a minute of your time to do this as it will help spread the word about my music and ministry. I can't do it without you and you are all part of the reason I am doing what I do!

WHY I CHOSE GLORY LORD!:
Why would I choose to feature Glory Lord to introduce you to my music? It's not a very long song by any stretch of the imagination and lyrically, it is one of my most minimal. How could a little song like Glory Lord really say anything about who I am as an artist?

The truth is - it has everything to say. I can sing, write, and record but my greatest fulfillment comes when a song takes on a life of its own; becoming bigger than my isolated experience of it. Little as it is, this song Glory Lord did that in a big way at Unity Fest in Muskegon, Michigan a few years back.

It was the end of my set and as I strummed the last chord of the song on my mountain dulcimer, a very cool thing happened. Everyone kept singing , the refrain "Glory Lord" echoing out in time to a cadence of clapping hands. The people began to stand and walk forward together. I did the only thing I could do. I got down off the stage and joined them in a tight circle. It wasn't my song anymore. It became a personal prayer of anyone who was singing it and worshipping God at that moment.

ABOUT THE CONTEST:
Artist Ovation and the CFA are launching festival competitions all over the nation. The winner of each festival competition will win the opportunity to play live at that festival. Moreover, these winners are automatically selected as finalists in a national contest, with the grand prize winner receiving a recording deal from the premier Christian Music label in the industry - Word Label Group

MY SISTER AND LAURA BENNETT DEMYSTIFIED

I wanted to post this photo from South Carolina of my sister Donna and I. My sister is on the right... as if you need me to tell you that. LOL


As for Laura Bennett, people have wanted details. As I said, Donna was the brave soul and would know those details. You can go to her blog www.pinkdonna.blogspot.com and ask her.

For the record, my impressions were what I shared in the last blog. The point being not so much about Laura Bennett or my sister Donna - but the recognition and celebration of women with an indomitable spirit. Alas, I am too artsy for my own good and wouldn't make a great gossip columnist. ;-)

I MET LAURA BENNETT!!!

(Photo courtesy of ProjectRunway.com)

I met Laura Bennett! O.K. – if I were to be totally honest, I let my sister do the dirty work of accosting her in the airport and then came along after the deed was done. Never mind the fact that I was squealing silently (yes – such a thing can be accomplished) and almost jumping up and down when I first spotted her standing across the aisle from us. And forget about turning 40! The 18 year old in me is alive and well!

It was especially cool because Donna and I had JUST been talking about her. It was during one of our all day pajama sessions with the Food Network. Is it chemo's way of seasoning all real food to taste like metal or the new appeal of the sofa that has led to Donna’s addiction with FN? We aren’t sure, but I did tease her more than once about being masochistic.

The fact that I know who Laura Bennett is tells you something about me. Yes, I am a Project Runway freak. You may, a) get what I am talking about and squeal silently (or aloud), b) shake your head in disappointment at my obvious lack of class or c) be totally clueless. If you don’t know what I am talking about, I owe you at least that.

Project Runway is a show where “wanna be” designers compete in different challenges for the title of Top Designer and the chance to start their own label. For example, one of the challenges required the designers to make their design out of recycled products. I am willing to put up with the reality show “ick” to witness the thing I never grow tired of; one challenge having as many creative and unique outcomes as there are people involved.

I have to admit that in the end, the ‘reality’ part won out. At the airport, I told Laura Bennett that we had been cheering her on to win and she pumped her arm triumphantly. You see what I love about Laura Bennett, her designs aside, is her indomitable spirit. Just like my sister Donna who marched right up to her to introduce herself. And they say we gravitate towards the people whose traits we want to exhibit. I guess that tells you something else about me.

10,20,30,40...

Yesterday I turned 40. I am as old as my mother was when she gave birth to me. When I was 10, I bore that fact like a badge on behalf of my mother. I was really proud of her… having a baby at THAT age. It’s a wonder she didn’t disown me.

My teenagers gave me a little grief yesterday – but only a little. I don’t think they really think of me as old. Even if they did, I am happy to be where I am. I’ve challenged, fought and relented to the understanding that you don’t have to have it all figured out and that the best times are often the simplest times.

Like last night. The boys came to me with their gift; the gift of themselves. They had planned a whole night around things I like – a movie, candy, popcorn - and they would be a part of it all. Even if it was a chick flick! (A term I would have never let them get away with when I was 20 – and a term they, as they are approaching 20, graciously spared me from last night.)

It would take the entire lifetime that I have lived to reach the age my mother is now. That’s a lot of time. Even so, what’s left isn’t what matters. There was a 30 year old girl I once knew who wrote a song about what is really significant and important. Today. Nothing is worth more than it! So happy day to you – however many years you are.

(Photo is of my mother in January of 1967, two months before I was born.)

A LONG WINTER

I haven't really treated this blog as a journal... more of a place to post my writing - meaning only those writings that I am willing to share. Trust me. There is enough that I am NOT willing to share. My sister Donna has inspired me to tell a bit more of my story, a bit more frequently. You can see a link to her page in the LINK section (original - I know!). She is fighting breast cancer and tells it like it is. I've always admired her for being direct and squirm about it at the same time. Her heart baring honesty is a light on my own dishonesty and a smack upside the head to be more forthright. She has reminded me that God uses our brokenness to bring mending. Our raw, honest appraisals don't scare Him away, in fact - they are the best stuff to work with.

Donna says that I am an inspiration and like her, I find that appraisal hard to bear. As an artist who is supposedly 'out there' in front of people - it's tough to keep a reign on motives. Inspiration can quickly become a goal to pursue rather than a thing that happens because you are just being who you are created to be. Who you are created to be becomes mucked up in all the hype.

So here are some words I wrote when I was thinking about all these things.

Words
collapsing
tumble, thrumming
down the mountain
in a roar
left behind
a cloud dispersing
in its silence saying more
listen close by breathing deep
the grit that scrapes the back of throat
the mountain settles in my soul
a foothold on my every note

I hope to continue to post more in journal form on a more frequent basis!

JUMPING OFF THE CLIFF OF CONTROVERSY

Maybe I am off my rocker and will end my brief ministry and career right here and now. I got an email this morning from a Christian organization wanting all Christians to boycott Wal-Mart on certain days because they are contributing 5% of their profits to a gay organization that supports same sex marriage.

Can you see why I am stepping off a cliff here?

Here I go… Aaaaaah.

I just don’t see how boycotting Wal-Mart because they contribute 5% of their sales to homosexual organizations is a way to share the love of Christ manifest in us. People say it’s loving the sinner but hating the sin – but in my opinion it’s a dangerous thing to take one scripture to justify a course of action. Christians do this while excusing themselves from the 1000 other teachings of Jesus that turned that kind of thinking on its head. The teachings and actions of Christ told us that our hearts are the problem. Our focus on protecting ourselves is the problem. Yes - sin is a problem – but our preoccupation with it is outrageous and keeps us from the love of God.

Does this boycott seem Pharisaical to anyone else? Is this a show of bravado to make sure that the ‘sinners’ aren’t encouraged and that the religious are protected? What is the purpose of the boycott anyway? Maybe that’s the question we should be asking ourselves.

The Pharisees (the religious elite) couldn’t stand the God that Jesus was/is. Compassionate? Accepting of Gentiles? Giving women a place of equality? Touching the ‘unclean’ and washing feet? A SERVANT to ALL? Go about quietly without regard for yourself but all for the glory of God? Was this guy NUTS??? Worse of all, He was telling them this is what THEY should be doing. Well… most of the time He was telling them they were never going to get it because they were too stuck in their old ways. They didn't recognize the Kingdom of God in their midst because they were so focused on keeping things in check. Even Jesus’ disciples were expecting Jesus to grab the government by the ears and shake real hard.

Is that what has happened to Christianity in America? Did Jesus Christ really get ripped apart on a cross so that we can boycott Wal-Mart? Was His intention that we find another way to showcase sin and take away that the Kingdom of God is here and He has conquered the power of sin through His resurrection?

Ask yourself if this sounds like missionary activity?

We are choosing not to go out into the world of Wal-Mart until they stop supporting the ‘sinners’.

I hate to break the news to everyone… but Wal-Mart better close their doors. Last time I checked – I am a sinner. Everyone who walks through those doors is. Some of us recognize Jesus as the Messiah who has delivered us from the punishment of those sins – but we are sinners nonetheless. Any good in me is only by the power of Jesus in my life because of HIS sacrifice.

I am not trying to be holier than thou. The truth is I am just as guilty as anyone of re-creating God in my own image. God is the only one who can show us His true nature. I just wonder what nature we are showing to the world.

CONCRETE COWS

I am driving north from Grand Rapids, MI on a fairly new stretch of highway – feeling really thankful for the 20 minutes it shaves off my original drive home when a sight interrupts my reverie. Perched high on a hill just in front of me is a chalet. I can see the reflection of the setting sun in its picture windows that face west. What a view! There is a moment of disjoint before I recognize that this spectacular view must have been even more outstanding before the divided highway was rudely placed in the valley below. I wonder all the things the human part of a person wonders… what DID it look like with all those rolling fields to gaze out upon, can all that exhaust belching at a person be healthy, and even more material… did they get reimbursed for the obvious drop in property value? (I have my priorities.) I am also self-conscious. A moment ago I was basking in the glory of their concrete addition and offering thanks for what it means to my schedule. I feel dangerously close to idol worship.

Maybe I am strange, but this makes me think of Moses coming down off Mt. Sinai still glowing (quite literally) from his view up there. Like the chalet, he finds that while he was gazing at God’s glory – an ugly transformation has taken place in the valley. The crowd has gotten together and decided that they are going to improve things for themselves and not wait around for this slow moving God. So they decide on a way to speed up the process. Build a gold cow! Perfect. O.K, I don't really get how they decided that this was the answer. I mean, that wouldn’t be my first inclination.

Or would it? Here I am, taking the gold paved road to home rather than the meandering back roads; taking the quick and easy vs. the deliberate and interesting. And all for a measly 20 minutes! It is here that I kneel at the altar of least resistance and as a result sacrifice to the god of apathy on a regular basis. Where’s the view in that? It’s no wonder I find myself short of experiencing the glory of God; short of experiencing anything but the satisfaction of keeping a tight schedule. How satisfying is that really?

I sigh aloud. The truth is that nothing is satisfying compared to the glory of God. I know this, I’ve experienced it. Yet my concrete cows beacon me and I bow down so low that only their gray pallor fills my vision and invades my heart. I am immersed in this empty worship until a shaft of perfectly aimed sunlight cuts through my line of sight. A verse runs through my head, “Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure, because you will not abandon me to the grave, nor will you let your Holy One see decay.” (Psalm 16: 9-10) In the blink of an eye, the chalet is past and I am heading west.

SPRINKLERS IN THE CEMETERY

I thought I'd do something different with this Musing. There are things that come up during unexpected moments that send a creative pulse through me. The other day, I drove by the cemetery and saw sprinklers going. I had several thoughts, and this poem is one of them explored. I'd like to invite you to post your thoughts about the subject "Sprinklers in the Cemetery" in the form of a poem, song or article. Just click the link below the poem.

Sprinklers in the Cemetery
by Angela Josephine

nettle pierces untended ground
untended heart?
while sprinklers in another cemetery
push deep as if to prod new life up
but if the dead will rise
do we judge
by the plots they are given?
and rosemary dries in the hot sun
just out of reach…

ILLUMINATED IMAGINATION

I would really love to get your feedback on this. A friend of mine named Shane has an organization called Dreamers of the Day in Ireland. He posted a recent blog that I feel really deserves some exploration. With his permission, I am posting it here. We are very interested in your thoughts.

ILLUMINATED IMAGINATION
by Shane Tucker of www.dreamtoday.org

For about a year now I've been contemplating the role of imagination in the role of a Christian. There have been various insights and encouragements to help me along the way with this. Below I'll lay out the headings that may form the content of my next article. Please comment and offer any insights you may have on this/these issues, or experiences you have had that may shed some light on the illuminated imagination. Of course, you'll be given credit in the next article if I rely on a fresh insight you've shared. ;-) Without further adieu...

*Art (broadly speaking) as Stimulation for Imagination
*Imagination as an Agent for Personal/Spiritual Growth
*Imagination as a Key to Engaging in God's Activity
*Imagination as a Catalyst for a Life of Service
*Imagination as a Cornerstone for Cultural Change
*Positive Uses for Imagination in a Life of Faith

The floor is open...

MOTHER'S MILK

Photo courtesy of Misty Woodward. www.spiritofmotherhood.com

White blood pours from my veins
Mother's milk that wets
the ground around me with
the taste of love and sacrifice.
It is a river
without notice
barely a whispered sigh
in anyone else's landscape
but it is my great divide...
Many pass by
but I have been fully baptized
in the deepest current
and realize they can
never understand
my struggle.
I am a creature of the depths
who understands
the shore
is
for
others.

The Real McCoy

I am sure you’ve heard it said "imitation is the highest form of flattery." I wonder about that though. As an artist, it does me some amount of good to hear that I’ve inspired someone or that something I’ve done or said has been meaningful, but I find some forms of imitation just plain creepy. You probably know the kind I am talking about. You meet someone and not all is right. Their inspiration has taken the road of imitation to the point of cloning. They’ve lost their individuality. They seem fake.

I’m the first one to admit that Rich Mullins has had an influence on my life and music. However, I am also the first one to admit that I am nothing like him. Maybe you noticed the photo of me in front of the church doors that was taken as a parody of Rich’s. Maybe you’ll notice that I am wearing a dress. So that’s the first big difference. I also like hot bubble baths and urban legend suggests that Rich didn’t bathe much. (Oh the wonderful myths that sparkle in the public eye.)

But is imitation all that bad? Paul tells us to… “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children.” (Ephesians 5:1 NIV) This type of imitation has been translated a number of ways… “be followers...” KJV, “Do as God does...” CEV, or “Follow God's example…” NLT. Let’s be clear here. We are NOT God. Yes, we are to follow Christ’s example and Christ’s Spirit is said to even live in us - but as God’s children. What would we really think of someone who grew a beard, donned some sandals and headed to the Mt. of Olives to repeat the words of Jesus? Gives a whole new visual to the term ‘Jesus Freak’, doesn’t it?

There’s one word in the old cliché I started with that reveals everything wrong with it. Flattery. Flattery is defined as extreme or insincere praise. I think that is why imitation to the extreme is so tough to see, so sad to witness. It’s false and robs the person doing the imitating of their true identity. The world has had a Rich Mullins, the world doesn’t need another. There already is a Jesus Christ and can be no other. That’s why it’s so important to recognize how crucial His sacrifice is. If He wanted a bunch of people parading around in long beards and robes in the desert, He would have stuck around and put up a compound.

Instead, he gave up His life so that we would find ours. He rose again so that we would be shaped and influenced by Him and made into a new and significant creation, something real; something to be believed in and not cheap imitations. The world doesn’t need more reproductions… the world needs YOU. Isn’t that inspiring! Do you see that you were made for more?

Thank God! I’d look awful with a beard.