My Search for a New Car

It has been a long time coming....trading in the green bullet for a newer car. My heart was set on finding a beautiful, used, brown (the color of dirt!) SUV/crossover that I would be able to pack full of equipment and odds and ends. For part one of the journey, check out The Green Bullet Farewell Tour. Here's the rest of the story.

Indiana

I know a guy who knows cars. His name is Jerry and he worked all sorts of sorcery on the green bullet that kept it running over the last couple of years. Jerry is also gifted in finding cars. I knew when I was ready to go looking for a new one, he would be my best bet.

Sunday morning a couple of weeks ago went something like this:

Jerry stood in the hallway by the children's wing as I walked up to him.

"is it time?" he asked. I nodded, "It's time."

The next day he texted me a picture of a Rav4 his toyota place had in stock. With Blue exterior, 47k in mileage, it seemed a likely candidate. I took (dragged) my friend Nathan that afternoon to look at it. I hesitantly poked and prodded and drove the car around, trying to take in the two toned interior that was equal parts dark grey and beige...awful! When we got back from the test drive, I looked at Jerry and said, "I like it, but I don't love it."

Michigan

With car #1 under my belt, I was brave enough to start searching online in hopes of finding a similiar car minus the beige interior. But finding a 2010 rav4 within 100 miles of Fort Wayne proved impossible, so I loaded up my friend Jess and convinced my psuedo-midwest Dad, Doug, to take the trip to Michigan to check out another car. 

We showed up to the dealership, and Aimee, our sales rep, sent us out on a test drive unchaperoned. She pointed to the nearest highway and told us to take our time.... we hit every button, looked in every nook, and gave the cruise control a spin. I texted Jerry my opinions (not while driving) and updates how things were going. He asked if I Liked it or loved it. "I really, really like it." I answered back.

But negotiations went sour, probably a combination of loving the grey interior of the car, but not liking the blue exterior, and wanting to experience that true, hassle/negotiate/get the sales guy hooked kind of buying. Frankly, our lady didn't care whether I bought the car or not. As I sat and asked questions and thought through things, she casually took phone calls and answered emails. I finally looked at her, told her the price I was willing to pay, and when she said she couldn't do it, I said thank you, we're done.It was definitely disappointing to walk away, but that disappointment was quickly swallowed up in some cheeseburgers and fries at a local 70's diner and then completely forgotten as we toured downtown Marshall, Michigan. We visited the Honolulu House, Dark Horse Brewery, the local coffee shop, and random antique stores along the way. 

Illinois

One more google search was all it took to find the absolute perfect car...a 2010 Rav4, pyrite mica (brown) exterior with ash (grey) interior, 40k in mileage...only problem? It was three hours away in Illinois.

But no problem at all if you are willing to get in your fifteen year old car and see where the wind takes you...all the way to Tinley Park to a Toyota dealership with the typical salesmen and many a suit and tie business manager. I left the green bullet with them, and brought home the car I absolutely LOVE despite the fact that it doesn't feel like my car yet, and as far as names...well, it will have to earn that my friends. The good news is bountiful. I now have reliable transportation...I mean, I could go anywhere....Mexico maybe? AND I only felt nauseous for the first couple of hours after writing the biggest check of my life (I'm told this is normal, and much worse when buying a house)... it has been quite fun showing off the rav's tailgating cup-holders and bootlegging compartments.

And back to Indiana

On the way back from Illinois, I stopped at Albanese, a candy factory and outlet. It seemed quite the day to celebrate with bags of gummi frogs that are in the cast off bin, not quite perfect enough to ship out, but oh so tasty! The drive back was uneventful, despite the fact I caught myself creeping past the speed limit on a few occasions... :o)

The Green Bullet Farewell Tour

It is no secret that I have been on a quest to find a newer (and new to me) mode of vehicular transportation. Though, I adored my dark green '97 Saturn that I have affectionately named the "green bullet," it was becoming a bit unreliable in its ability to keep running.....I guess that's a good reason to upgrade. :o)The green bullet didn't earn its name until the five year mark. It was an off hand joke when I worked at a junior high mission camp one summer as I talked to a youth group whose 15 passenger van was set to follow me through the blue ridge mountains. I joked with them as I said, "well, I don't know...it may be hard to keep up with the green bullet on all these hills, he's a real speedster."

And so he became the green bullet. Even though he lacks the ability to accelerate. But slow and steady....

Most of the summer, I struggled with the idea of giving up this car...all its metal framework and ripped headliner that I knew so well. It may have been an effect of all the change the past few months had brought...new projects, the loss of my grandfather.... far more emotional than logical.

So I did what any reasonable person with a somewhat unstable car would do. I took the green bullet for one last meandering trip around the state. We moseyed down to Greensburg UMC for a house concert with the ever so awesome Pimlotts, we strolled the backroads to Nashville, IN and spent the night with friends in Bloomington. Most of the weekend was spent outside Indy, in Fishers...planning Lion and Lamb and sharing music at Fishers UMC before heading down to meet the folks at the Wesley Foundation at Purdue.

I have to admit, without an agenda and only needing to travel a few hours at a time, it was a beautiful journey through a much more hilly side of this hoosier land. And it reminded me of so many trips I used to take around Virginia, staying with different friends each night and experiencing new towns and places. Strange to think I have been here long enough to have friends spread around the state....

Somewhere on the road between West Lafayette and Fort Wayne, I let go of the irrational hold my heart had on the green bullet. If I want to be open to where the spirit may be leading... if I want to be able to travel safely without genuine concern, then I need a new car for this new season. The green bullet has far surpassed any expectations I would have placed on him way back in 2003, when the keys were slipped into hand and the adventures began....can't believe that car survived college, Colorado, and made a good run for the past couple of years in Indiana.

Later this week I'll be sharing the story of my new unnamed toyota rav4 friend....let's just say it involved multiple trips out of state, cheap diners, tourist attractions and gummi frogs. Stay tuned.

Lion and Lamb Festival 2013

Lion and Lamb Festival. Happened. I mean, REALLY happened. The vision of a community coming together to share in gifts and passions and hope, happened. Artists and speakers and campers and an assortment of locals and travelers found a temporary home in a large, open field nestled between neighborhoods and shopping centers. And it was beautiful. And it was also hot. And at times buggy. But it didn't rain!! And on Sunday it was overcast and almost chilly....perfect.

It's an odd feeling to be a part of the vision for the better part of a year, and then find yourself in the midst of it actually happening. There were multiple times Saturday afternoon that felt surreal, when I would find myself standing in awe of what God was building and binding together in newly forged friendships and community. 

Lion and Lamb provided space for so many different and unique individuals and ministries and groups to come together and share their hearts and passions. I wish I had the words here to sufficiently bear witness to how God moved among us, but I'll just let Robb McCoy explain in the blog he posted late Saturday night: Live from #lionlamb13.

Personally, I was most excited over the vendor-ing (not a word I know) of Yobel Market, a fair trade store and nonprofit organization based out of Colorado Springs. The group that came are friends of friends of mine from my year-long stint in Colorado a few years back. I proudly told them, "We haven't met yet, but I helped decorate your store on Thanksgiving Day in 2010"....cheesy!! And that was AFTER I yelled, "COLORADO!!!!!" as I walked up to their booth.....oh man.....Sara, Julia, and Brian will never know how thankful my heart was to have a tangible reminder of the beauty and openness that resides in the heart of every Coloradan.... I miss those folks.

It was good to reconnect with the folks of Shiny Shiny Black, a band from Goshen, Indiana. I met the lead singer Nate, over a year ago at an open mic in downtown Fort Wayne. He was there with his wife Amber and at the time, still a baby, Charlotte. I pulled up a chair to their table and spent the evening getting to know them in between the spoken word poets and karaoke-type singers. Fast forward a year and Nate has formed this new band, Amber is just as sweet, and Charlotte is a walking, determined toddler. Sometimes, I wish I was this completely put together singer-songwriter for whom to play on a big stage right before captivating speakers like Rachel Held Evans and Bruce Reyes Chow was no big deal.... but since I'm not and it is.... well, I quite enjoyed the time....Although I will admit that singing a peppy ukulele tune about Bob Ford shooting Jesse James in the middle of a festival about peace and hope probably isn't the best choice... but it IS my most requested song...IN THE BACK! :o) And for what it's worth, conversations are already swirling in preparation for next year....and how to continue the dialogue and community beyond two days spent in an open field with the Indiana sun beating down.... and that makes my heart so very, very happy. Stay tuned Lion and Lambers...we'll be in touch.

Lion and Lamb Festival- The Pre Show

This morning, the tents go up. This afternoon the stages and sound equipment are being loaded in. And this evening the campers arrive. It's finally here. The culmination of months of prayer, planning, and prepping..... LION AND LAMB FESTIVAL!!! What a crazy year it has been. I still think back to the first time I heard about the idea of a weekend centered around peace, hope, and faith. It felt exciting and daring and certainly a little risky....and that was all before my church offered up Praise Park as the host site! 

So here we go, two days and a multitude of speakers, musicians, and ministries coming together to share, learn, and be in community with one another. We will worship, talk, pray, and play together in a big open park. We'll get food from food trucks and use the port a pots and bask in the warm Indiana sunshine, thankful for the breeze. The brave ones will camp (bugs!) and the rest of us will hunker down in our local homes and hotels. I happen to be camping out on my futon as my parents will be in town to join in! 

Recently, Matt Landry and I were guests on Arts Weekly, a local pbs show sponsored by IPFW. If you haven't caught it yet, watch it.... and note how easilyy, "yeah, yeah, yeah" slides off my tongue... :o)

Click here to watch the Arts Weekly Segment

I do hope you can join in the festivities this weekend. Being the first ever Lion and Lamb Festival, we have the unique opportunity to be a part of its beginning, to come together and see the building of hope and justice and peace among a diverse group of people. That gets me excited. I pray that we are bold, yet humble. Ready to share, and ready to listen. That our hearts are soft and our eyes and ears are open....there will be kingdom glimpses ALL around us.

Registration is being accepted at the door as well as concert tickets for both Saturday and Sunday night, experience a taste of the weekend without committing two whole days...win! I'm on the mainstage Saturday at 6:30 and Sunday at 5:30, the schedule and other info can be found at www.lionandlambfestival.org. Come and be a part of the community that God is bringing together. It is certainly going to get interesting!!

Saying Goodbye to Bubba

"We called him Bubba," My dad said as he stood in front of the family and a few friends gathered Thursday night in a little funeral chapel in Colonial Beach, "My oldest son couldn't say 'Grandpa' and so he called him Bubba...and Bubba he became." This past week has been difficult, beautiful, heart wrenching, and love filled. I find myself quite reflective these days....building an arsenal of memories and storing up words and pictures. As wise, 5 year old Nate put it, "I hope we always remember Bubba."

The morning after Bubba died, I took my cup of coffee and sat on a stool out in his workshop...one of the few rooms untouched when he came home with hospice and the house filled up with medical equipment and family. It is the one room that is uniquely his, a project that he worked on as time and his physical ability allowed. It didn't matter that the place was never quite finished, that piles of tools and supplies cover every surface, the workshop was his... and I sat there quietly, in the silence of a mostly still asleep house, and leaned into the heartache of a loved one gone. The days passed rather quickly until we found ourselves standing in front of his casket with an opportunity to say goodbye. The service was beautiful, with multiple family members sharing and our old pastor, Bill, making the drive to be with us. We shared stories, words, scriptures, and songs to remember the life of a man who had deeply loved us and poured into our lives. The only oddity of the night, was the funeral director ending the service as I stood up to play the postlude, saying, "Has anyone lost a ring? We've found one and we'd like all the ladies to check their fingers...no? Well, this concludes our service tonight and we'd like a few of the gentlemen to help carry the casket out to be transported to our other site. Feel free to stay and mingle among yourselves." .....what??!?! :o) It's become the odd family joke since then...has anyone lost a ring?....especially when I pull out my guitar....We gathered back at the house for late night snacks and drinks. Nana had requested "six bottles of wine from that winery" earlier in the week for a "toast" and so the three bottles that had been picked up from Costco the day before were opened, poured and dispersed around the room. Nana asked if I would give the toast. As everyone quieted down, I said, "Tonight we want to take a moment and remember Bubba. So to our tenacious Bubba, who loved God, loved his family, and fought the good fight." (Brilliant, right? Oh man....somethings you don't get to prepare for!!). At least everyone yelled, "To Bubba!" and we drank.

Friday morning, we drove through the pouring rain up to Quantico National Cemetery. It is where our Grandpa Cox was buried two years ago, where when the army didn't show up, we settled for a pre-recorded taps, our family served as pallbearers, and the pastor and Bubba folded the flag. It was kind of fitting for who Grandpa was.But oh, on Friday, when we pulled around the bend towards the pavilion and saw the Coast Guard ready with full military honors...I did what Becky has done all week, exclaiming, "That's gonna make me cry!" It was an unexpected moment that held all the honor, respect, and dignity that my grandfather deserved. Recognition that he had led a good and faithful life and those he had served would now serve him. Those men in uniform stood proud, reverent, and strong. The brief service was deeply moving...from the carrying of the casket, to the 21 gun salute, to the lone taps player...and especially when the folded flag was presented to my nana....whew, I tear up even now. A fitting tribute to the life of Bubba. We stopped by Grandpa Cox's grave to place a few flowers before heading back home for an afternoon of more food and time with family. Things are much quieter now, as most of the visitors left at various points over the weekend, heading back to Northern Virginia, Maryland, New England, and Canada. I am the last to leave, tomorrow morning I start the long drive back to Fort Wayne...back to friends, work, and a little kitty named Mitch who must be very lonely by now... :o)

I am grateful for the covering of grace and love. That our family will love on Nana, whose strong New England bred spirit will keep her up and moving even when the tears come. That these past couple of weeks have been a holy and set apart time for us to be together as a family. And that I had time to say everything I needed, to a man I love so dearly, "Bubba, you are the best grandfather."

To read the previous post about the week leading up to the funeral click here

Bubba

There are no words that reach far enough into the depth of these past couple of weeks. I've been trying to tentatively begin telling the story...the shock of how much Bubba had faded since I was home last, the weird tension that comes from a house full of family and a loved one who is ill, the joy of spending time with my three sweet nephews, each one with a uniquely vibrant and often loud spirit... Of sitting at Bubba's bedside with guitar in hand, singing Amazing Grace and praying that my heart would be strong. Of celebrating my Dad's birthday with family and friends and watching fireworks shot over the water while sweat dripped and bugs swarmed. Of sitting as a family, tears flowing as we knew the time was growing short.I think our Bubba decided exactly when it was his time. Though he was incredily weak, he held on as all his grandkids and great grandkids came to visit...spending little pockets of time with us...allowing the whole family to be together. And as the week was winding down, and goodbyes were beginning, he simply drifted off. I spent some time with him Saturday afternoon as his breathing became more labored and difficult. I prayed over him, and as Buster the cat jumped on the hospital bed for the first time and our stoic Nana began to cry, God whispered to me, "soon, my love, he's leaving soon." I leaned in close to Bubba and said, "We love you, but when you need to go home, you go home. God loves you so much and he's waiting to just wrap his arms around you." I picked up his bible and openly cried as I began reading scripture out loud....first the 23rd psalm and then moving into parts of Philippians, Romans....coaxing a smile from him when I mentioned skipping over the parts of God's wrath....After dinner, the little guys went in to say good night to Bubba and headed off to bed. Soon after, we all noticed a significant change in Bubba...his labored breathing had become more difficult and slightly erratic. We began gathering everyone into the room, shoving dining room chairs into the corners and finding space for the dozen or so family members. I sat on the bed and gripped Bubba's hand and we all sat quietly with our tears and tissues. After a few moments I asked Nana if I could pray. 

What do you say in a moment of complete heartbreak? I prayed that Bubba would know that he was loved, that he wouldn't be in pain, that God would remind him that he was a son, a child, and he was made to be with Him. I thanked God for what Bubba had taught us, how he had loved us, how he had shown us what it meant to live strongly and faithfully....there were more words and tears....and somewhere in there I said, "we won't remember him for this hospital bed or feeding tubes, but for his strength, his love... and the time he asked a 17 year old girl to dance when he "was a little far gone".....then my brother piped up, "for his workshop." Then my dad, "for woodworking shows" Then someone else. "for telling us the story of goldilocks and the three bears EVERY time we spent the night" "for hockey games" "for helping with last minute school projects" And so began a couple of hours of tears, of stories, of laughter of a family trying to say goodbye, and yet hold on. 

We all caught a few hours of sleep that night, and took turns Sunday keeping Bubba company. A nurse came and told us that Bubba was in "transition" and his body was shutting down. I spent the afternoon in the room with my mom, pulling out my guitar for a few moments and finding myself too overcome to sing.

The family settled in for the wait, several of us calling in to work and adjusting travel schedules....when I think back, how perfect God's timing is...that we were all here, and not 12 hours away....

Bubba passed away later that evening, and since then, we've been in the thick of arrangements for the funeral, the burial, the travel of extended family, and keeping the boys occupied. It is a special, heartbreaking, hopeful time for the family and I am so thankful to be here, to have these days, to hold Nana's hand when it is too overwhelming. They were married 61 years.... 

Thank you friends, for the messages, the texts, the love and support. For allowing my heart to grieve and express and share....We start to say goodbye tonight with a funeral service here in Colonial Beach and the burial tomorrow at Quantico National Cemetery...both my grandfathers buried in the same place. The pain is deep, but the hope we have in Christ is deeper still. And for that, I am so very, very grateful.

Grandpa's Cheese Barn

The last few times my parents have driven out to visit Fort Wayne, they have raved out a place called "Grandpa's Cheese Barn", a touristy cafe/food shoppe they found somewhere in the midst of Ohio. The cheese they brought was quite delightful, but since I fly back to Virginia most of the time, I hadn't questioned its location or really remembered its existence. Fast forward to my impromptu drive home a few weeks back. I threw my bags in the car and took off with a mostly full tank of gas. Several hours later I was in need of caffeine, gas, and a potty and I pulled off on an exit with a gas station/starbucks combo (brilliant!). As I drove back to turn onto the interstate, I looked up and saw a sign, "Grandpa's Cheese Barn straight ahead." I switched my turn signal back, and drove ahead to find a series of white barns and lots of signs covered in cheese and mice welcoming visitors and friends alike.

And how delightful it is! There is a whole room of cheeses, and canned goods, with rows of samples to try. I spent a good ten minutes just walking around and tasting different things. A quick phone call to mom and I picked out a few items the family wanted. It was nearing closing time, and I wanted to be back on the road, but in my heart of hearts I am a wanderer of tourist traps and roadside attractions...and this is one for the books.

Bubba

I've had this picture on my laptop tucked in the corner since Bubba first became ill in February. It has been a reminder to pray for him daily, to think of him and Nana, to remember how much I love my family. 

We don't talk a lot about dying well. About dying with dignity and honor. We tend to live in the optimism and hope of eventual healing and wellness. And medical advances have put us into places with options that make further decisions incredibly more difficult. But the truth is that we are temporal creatures...yet we hold on to what we know. I admit, it seems hard to grasp the idea that I will one day not exist in this physical form, all I know is the blood pumping through my heart and the air moving in and out of my lungs. I love Jesus with everything inside of me, and I know that I was made to be with him....it's hard to imagine what that will one day look like.

Bubba is a man of honor and strength. This man was born in 1930's New York, orphaned by age 5, raised by an aunt, eventually settling into service with the Coast Guard. He spent years volunteering with Special Olympics in ice skating and played street hockey complete with rollerblades until well into his sixties. Forty years ago he became deathly ill and had half a stomach and half of a lung removed. Twelve years ago he suffered a stroke and fought his way back into walking, eating, and talking. He has had macular degeneration and has spent the last few years having injections of botox put directly into his eyeballs to help stop the disease. He knows how to fight, how to hope, and when to say enough is enough. I hope that we as a family can be strong for him. Strong enough to allow him these choices, strong enough to support his decisions, strong enough to let him go.