As many of you know, we rescued a kid, in fact Isaiah, from a broken adoption some three years ago, when his former family sent him back to Liberia. I cannot tell a lie, this has been a struggle, a hard journey, not only for us, but for him as well. So much so, that I have almost written a book. I am up to nearly 100,000 words and need a final chapter, which, thank you Lord, I now have. While we have tried as a family of eight children at home, four others married with children, and ourselves, parents to all of them, he has struggled with being in a family, let alone trusting parents. His biological mother died in childbirth resulting in his sisters being sent to the orphanage where they would be adopted into the "Great America" and him being kept by his father, only to be rejected by his new "mother" two years later and being sent to the same orphanage. You can see where I am going. His trust in "mothers" was not real great, so by the time he got adopted, rejected, and rescued by me, he didn't have a lot of of belief in parents, or particularly mothers. At least I can say without a doubt from me or him, that our relationship has been real, if not normal. He knows I "get" him. He knows I know he cannot feel much for me or the rest of the kids for that matter, and he knows I hate that for him.
He has what I call "survivor" disorder, where he survives each day entirely one day at a time, not recalling much from yesterday, and waking to survive the new day dawning. On top of that he has post traumatic stress from, mother dying, father leaving, orphanage horror, adoption failing, Africa again with hunger and death, and new family who just look too good to be true. In all of this he disconnected with everyone, was abused, both physically and sexually, an became an abuser himself for a short period, which caused hatred of his own self at the ripe old age of thirteen. I did not survive the last three years without a Savior, Redeemer, and Lord. But, tragically, even though Jesus is all of that to me, Isaiah cannot believe He can be that to him because of his past, and the things he daily does that he cannot understand.
But, in all of this, God is good. He brought Isaiah to us knowing the struggles we both would have and trusted all of us, all eight children at home and four others married with children, to accept, try, believe and hope that Isaiah would come through in the end. Now, I will remind you that our children at home have issues, learning as well as, cerebral palsy, bipolar, Tourettes, Aspergers, ADHD, OCD, and sensory issues beyond your comprehension. I think God has a sense of humor. I have thought many times I would go "under" but my faith in God and his path is more than what I see, that is most of the time. I can't tell how many times I have felt like a missionary where I cannot go to a church service because of duty calling in the field at home, not abroad.
But, thanks to my amazing Principle of our Christian home school, he has been accepted into Job Core, which is a Government program where he will not only get his GED, but, his driving license, up to two trades, and three years in a trade college, with all expenses paid. I am continually amazed, astounded, and thankful for a God who knows what we are going through, from both sides, and see the solution for each. I think this track applies to all children whose wings have been broken and only Jesus can teach them to fly. This is the title track to the album Broken Hearts and Broken Wings played acoustically.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Out with the old.......In with the new
A few months ago I took this intense writing course with Belinda Smith and wrote lots of songs about things I had never thought of before, like writing a song about an object. The object came to me very quickly, but the writing turned in a direction that made me ponder on how we easily discard the old for the new. I wrote about my grandmother's piano, the one that was center stage in her living room which was full of furniture hand carved and crafted by my grandfather. When I was little, I always looked longingly at that piano, and desperately wanted to play it properly, but every time I climbed up on the too large piano seat and put my small hands on the keys, I was very plainly told not to "bang" on grandmother's piano. I didn't think I was banging, but in reality, I probably was, and she loved that piano. Of course part of the fascination for me was that it was not only a piano, but a pianola, which was a version that played music by itself with rolls of old yellowed paper, with holes in it that were the notes, and it rolled around and played magically by itself. I was a very big fan, and my biggest wish was to learn to play those ivory keys. When she died, I never did know where that piano went, but I would have walked a million miles for it to have sat in my living room.
I never did learn as a child, and am still trying to co-ordinate both hands together as an adult. I mastered guitar, I plan to do the same with piano even if I am eighty. As I thought about the piano, my mind wandered to other things. The theatre where I performed my first professional role at the age of seventeen, aptly named "Her Majesty's Theatre", situated in Queen Street in my hometown of Brisbane. You could smell the grease paint, and see the rodents that roamed those ancient hallways and dressing rooms that were freezing in winter and hot as hades in summer. No air conditioning, no sound systems in a three thousand seat theatre, but so much atmosphere and history that I remembered arriving for call time dead tired, and just the smell of the place could make the blood rush through my veins. I loved that old theatre, but it fell, demolished in a pile of dust and rubble to make way for "finer, newer" buildings that were more comfortable. History gone forever in the name of progress. I protested along with a lot of others whose lives and careers had been changed on that stage, but she came down nonetheless. Shows moved to the "modern" theatre up on the hill that had a sound system and air conditioning, but not much atmosphere, or history for that matter. But all in the name of progress.
My mind then turned to how music itself has changed drastically in such a short time. What happened to EP's, and LP's and a small black round disk that was known as a "single". I have one of those of myself singing in a radio competition at the age of fourteen. I have it carefully put away for my grandchildren and great-grandchildren to know something of their "Grammy". Of course I digitized it and have it stored on my I-Tunes, another leap in the music industry. Soon, we will not even remember cd's, they will become like cassettes, if you remember those. I still have an old turntable and my first four track recording system, my first DX7, and a pile of music I recorded way back then on a more than a few dats, and cassettes. I still have a Dat Machine as well as sheet music from when I was learning singing at ten. Those are old, and fragile, but memories I treasure.
Then of course my mind turned to the elderly, who we discovered while Roger's mum was in a nursing home at the end of her life, were very rarely visited by their families, and the children whose parents prefer a pill, or a bottle of ale over these precious little ones resulting in so many children in foster care. I could go on and on, but I'll let you remember your own precious things that have disappeared from life, some good, some bad, only time will tell. I sure hope in twenty years we don't look back and think we were living in the good old days. Here is the link, hope you enjoy:)
http://theadoptionthing.org/DustLeftOnMyCover.mp3
I never did learn as a child, and am still trying to co-ordinate both hands together as an adult. I mastered guitar, I plan to do the same with piano even if I am eighty. As I thought about the piano, my mind wandered to other things. The theatre where I performed my first professional role at the age of seventeen, aptly named "Her Majesty's Theatre", situated in Queen Street in my hometown of Brisbane. You could smell the grease paint, and see the rodents that roamed those ancient hallways and dressing rooms that were freezing in winter and hot as hades in summer. No air conditioning, no sound systems in a three thousand seat theatre, but so much atmosphere and history that I remembered arriving for call time dead tired, and just the smell of the place could make the blood rush through my veins. I loved that old theatre, but it fell, demolished in a pile of dust and rubble to make way for "finer, newer" buildings that were more comfortable. History gone forever in the name of progress. I protested along with a lot of others whose lives and careers had been changed on that stage, but she came down nonetheless. Shows moved to the "modern" theatre up on the hill that had a sound system and air conditioning, but not much atmosphere, or history for that matter. But all in the name of progress.
My mind then turned to how music itself has changed drastically in such a short time. What happened to EP's, and LP's and a small black round disk that was known as a "single". I have one of those of myself singing in a radio competition at the age of fourteen. I have it carefully put away for my grandchildren and great-grandchildren to know something of their "Grammy". Of course I digitized it and have it stored on my I-Tunes, another leap in the music industry. Soon, we will not even remember cd's, they will become like cassettes, if you remember those. I still have an old turntable and my first four track recording system, my first DX7, and a pile of music I recorded way back then on a more than a few dats, and cassettes. I still have a Dat Machine as well as sheet music from when I was learning singing at ten. Those are old, and fragile, but memories I treasure.
Then of course my mind turned to the elderly, who we discovered while Roger's mum was in a nursing home at the end of her life, were very rarely visited by their families, and the children whose parents prefer a pill, or a bottle of ale over these precious little ones resulting in so many children in foster care. I could go on and on, but I'll let you remember your own precious things that have disappeared from life, some good, some bad, only time will tell. I sure hope in twenty years we don't look back and think we were living in the good old days. Here is the link, hope you enjoy:)
http://theadoptionthing.org/DustLeftOnMyCover.mp3
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Real Issues
Well life has been busy, no, let me correct that, chaotic. End of year at school is always hectic, but it seemed more so this year with ballet shows, musical theatre for both my company and BAPA, recital, field day, it just seemed to go on and on. On top of that, I had music commitments of my own, writing deadlines, and mum duties, the most important. Grandbabies being born, other family crisis situations that always need Mum and Dad's attention, pool motors burning out, pool parties for all and sundry for birthday parties and end of year parties, Mother's day (yeah that's a laugh, isn't that every day?), my own mother and father in health troubles all the way back in Australia, with no possibility of me leaving, guilt over that, teenagers needing learning licenses, gym calling somewhere way back in the foggy part of my brain, and maybe least, but most for me, older kids needing Mum to babysit overnight, a pleasure not a chore, except, I am going to crawl to church next week if I have to. Thank God for IPad's and free editions of the whatever bible edition you want. It maybe somewhat personal, but my Ipad is in the bathroom where I, mostly, sometimes if I am lucky, cannot be interrupted from reading scripture when I am desperate for it.
I am living in a memory of where I remember when my older kids reached teenagedom I realized that the kitchen was not my own, their bedrooms, as well as other rooms in the house, were subject to utter chaos with clothes, books, left over what ever, and my days of containing them in a room, gated of course, where I could control mess, was over. I am back there, only two and a bit times over. The first lot measured four, the second, nine. My coveted, (yes,repentance is in order) 6 burner, flat grill Viking range, is also coveted by five, yes five, avid chefs who refuse to clean up after themselves. They see me seamlessly cook Chinese, Indian, my famous breakfast potatoes, eggs, etc, and experiment with some of the same, and some of whatever, but clean up? That's what mother's are for, aren't they? I think not, but my impressions of this upon them are not working. I may be reduced to something like a strong broth before the end of summer.
Then there are real kid issues where real prayer without humor is necessary. A rescued child who is not making it in the real "America", a grand child who may be on the Autisic scale, not a real biggie because we have an Aspergers child, but, a situation where comic relief is impossible. As Forest Gump said, "Life is like a box of chocolates", so true, but sometimes the flavors are not what you expected. Am I glad that God is Good, God is real, and God is here, available, to give comfort, help, and encouragement into what seem like a cloudy future, but not to Him, who sees and knows all things. I pray my vision will clear. Maybe my new contacts will help with that???
I am living in a memory of where I remember when my older kids reached teenagedom I realized that the kitchen was not my own, their bedrooms, as well as other rooms in the house, were subject to utter chaos with clothes, books, left over what ever, and my days of containing them in a room, gated of course, where I could control mess, was over. I am back there, only two and a bit times over. The first lot measured four, the second, nine. My coveted, (yes,repentance is in order) 6 burner, flat grill Viking range, is also coveted by five, yes five, avid chefs who refuse to clean up after themselves. They see me seamlessly cook Chinese, Indian, my famous breakfast potatoes, eggs, etc, and experiment with some of the same, and some of whatever, but clean up? That's what mother's are for, aren't they? I think not, but my impressions of this upon them are not working. I may be reduced to something like a strong broth before the end of summer.
Then there are real kid issues where real prayer without humor is necessary. A rescued child who is not making it in the real "America", a grand child who may be on the Autisic scale, not a real biggie because we have an Aspergers child, but, a situation where comic relief is impossible. As Forest Gump said, "Life is like a box of chocolates", so true, but sometimes the flavors are not what you expected. Am I glad that God is Good, God is real, and God is here, available, to give comfort, help, and encouragement into what seem like a cloudy future, but not to Him, who sees and knows all things. I pray my vision will clear. Maybe my new contacts will help with that???
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Finding the right path.......
One of the things that I always question is "am I on the right path?" I am currently at the Objective in Nashville and I find myself surrounded by lots of different looking, and sounding, Christian artists, songwriters and musicians, who all have the same heart, but, very different paths. There is no "cookie cutter" definition of anyone's path with the Lord, and finding it can be the hardest thing that we ever do. From lessons learned, I know that walking your own path doesn't work, and in fact, leaves you without peace, leaving a striving after things that our soul wants, but is not in the plans that "He" has for us.
There has been a lot of teaching about that in the last couple of days, and while I was glad that "seeking the Kingdom of God" was the first and foremost thing that all of us should do, especially thespians and musicians, artists of all kinds, I was saddened that this teaching had to come so strongly in a seminar setting, and not necessarily from the pulpits of our home churches. As a "called" artist, singer/songwriter, speaker, whatever, I know how easy it is to be lost in a large congregation where my particular "calling" is not necessarily the largest concern in the church. Yet, shouldn't "seek ye first the Kingdom of God and all things will be added to you" be a strong teaching for everyone?
Both Rog and I learned this lesson very strongly some 21 years ago when the Lord called us to the USA. There is no reciprocal agreement between Australia and the USA for work, so for us to come here and earn a living to support four children, it had to be God. We did seek, and we did knock, and the door did open in a miraculous way, and yet, I still have to watch that I do not put both hands around something I want, and wait upon the Lord for His best, not mine. How many things have I missed in trying to direct my own paths? I am sure one day I will see them, and will be glad that I did learn the lesson of "waiting upon the Lord", well enough to not miss so many of God's opportunities just by heeding his small voice inside my heart. In saying that, I might add, that this lesson is one to be reviewed often, if not daily, because how much more could we do, and how many lives could be touched if as a body we all moved in this direction. I don't know about you, but I have to check myself all the time that I am not walking by sight, but am walking by faith in what I am called to do, even if it is the hardest thing I have ever been asked to do.
As an artist, singer/songwriter I live with feelings of inadequacy, as well as thinking just how does this work for a mother with fourteen children? Well, lucky for me, that is not my problem. The Lord did the calling, and the Lord will order my steps on the path he wishes, even if I wish he would hurry up.
There has been a lot of teaching about that in the last couple of days, and while I was glad that "seeking the Kingdom of God" was the first and foremost thing that all of us should do, especially thespians and musicians, artists of all kinds, I was saddened that this teaching had to come so strongly in a seminar setting, and not necessarily from the pulpits of our home churches. As a "called" artist, singer/songwriter, speaker, whatever, I know how easy it is to be lost in a large congregation where my particular "calling" is not necessarily the largest concern in the church. Yet, shouldn't "seek ye first the Kingdom of God and all things will be added to you" be a strong teaching for everyone?
Both Rog and I learned this lesson very strongly some 21 years ago when the Lord called us to the USA. There is no reciprocal agreement between Australia and the USA for work, so for us to come here and earn a living to support four children, it had to be God. We did seek, and we did knock, and the door did open in a miraculous way, and yet, I still have to watch that I do not put both hands around something I want, and wait upon the Lord for His best, not mine. How many things have I missed in trying to direct my own paths? I am sure one day I will see them, and will be glad that I did learn the lesson of "waiting upon the Lord", well enough to not miss so many of God's opportunities just by heeding his small voice inside my heart. In saying that, I might add, that this lesson is one to be reviewed often, if not daily, because how much more could we do, and how many lives could be touched if as a body we all moved in this direction. I don't know about you, but I have to check myself all the time that I am not walking by sight, but am walking by faith in what I am called to do, even if it is the hardest thing I have ever been asked to do.
As an artist, singer/songwriter I live with feelings of inadequacy, as well as thinking just how does this work for a mother with fourteen children? Well, lucky for me, that is not my problem. The Lord did the calling, and the Lord will order my steps on the path he wishes, even if I wish he would hurry up.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
A sigh of relief, or maybe not.
So the curtain went down on "Goldilocks" and it was hilarious! My two youngest sets of twins were in the production, one played "Sand Witch", one played a French Weasel, one was Goldilocks and one was a pig, a member of "The Squeal Sisters". Hilarity for all, especially when they skipped a scene, went back and did it out of order, only to have an unprecedented chase, even thought there was one already choreographed in the show, with characters running in, then out. The audience just laughed and laughed. Of course the cast party followed with a "heated" pool party at my house, with hot dogs and chips and brownies, all that a small child's heart desires. It really was perfect considering that there were storms moving through the area and they all cleared by the time the show went down. God is good.
So after pulling set, packing it up to be picked up in the morning by my wonderful husband because I have to be in the studio by 10, which is an hour plus drive, getting all the food out for the hungry hoards, I got to play a few songs for everyone. The fingers get better every day, and I got to sing to an audience, one that IS biased, but an audience all the same. Playing guitar is hard for me. I am a little dyslexic and the co-ordination of playing and singing and making both hands work was extremely hard for me, but determination will get you there. I am SO more comfortable singing out front of a band or to tracks where I can just sing the "stories", but life isn't always set up for that, and you have to be able to do both. I mean, if you are in the middle of a jungle, or somewhere where there is no power, meaning electricity, then you better know how to play. I love the idea, and would dearly love to be able to play piano better, and maybe one day I will, but it is a struggle, which is becoming a little easier each time I MAKE myself do it. I guess I have been spoiled having a guitarist for a husband, who is head and shoulders above me when it comes to playing, and still he writes me scales to improve my finger skills, and encourages me, and even tells me I play OK. Mmmmmmm..... I think the jury is still out on that. I have done many singer/songwriter nights and got away with playing for myself, but, when I see and hear so many excellent players, my abilities fade into the background. Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful for the skills I have acquired, but my real instrument has always been my voice, and I am very aware of that.
Having said all those things, I LOVE playing guitar and will never give up. One day, my determination will pay off, just as my kids determination to learn their lines, know their blocking, cues and sequence of the show paid off, so will practice, faith, and being truthful with yourself.
So after pulling set, packing it up to be picked up in the morning by my wonderful husband because I have to be in the studio by 10, which is an hour plus drive, getting all the food out for the hungry hoards, I got to play a few songs for everyone. The fingers get better every day, and I got to sing to an audience, one that IS biased, but an audience all the same. Playing guitar is hard for me. I am a little dyslexic and the co-ordination of playing and singing and making both hands work was extremely hard for me, but determination will get you there. I am SO more comfortable singing out front of a band or to tracks where I can just sing the "stories", but life isn't always set up for that, and you have to be able to do both. I mean, if you are in the middle of a jungle, or somewhere where there is no power, meaning electricity, then you better know how to play. I love the idea, and would dearly love to be able to play piano better, and maybe one day I will, but it is a struggle, which is becoming a little easier each time I MAKE myself do it. I guess I have been spoiled having a guitarist for a husband, who is head and shoulders above me when it comes to playing, and still he writes me scales to improve my finger skills, and encourages me, and even tells me I play OK. Mmmmmmm..... I think the jury is still out on that. I have done many singer/songwriter nights and got away with playing for myself, but, when I see and hear so many excellent players, my abilities fade into the background. Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful for the skills I have acquired, but my real instrument has always been my voice, and I am very aware of that.
Having said all those things, I LOVE playing guitar and will never give up. One day, my determination will pay off, just as my kids determination to learn their lines, know their blocking, cues and sequence of the show paid off, so will practice, faith, and being truthful with yourself.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Another day in the life
My little actors continue to surprise me. Today, with still one light blown, and yet to reposition another one, they stepped up to the bar. With lights, action, no camera's, but a determined director, they delivered a show, well by their standards anyway. I know they will be brilliant tomorrow, even if I think about every cue tonight. They had fun! They even tried to do some improv, but unfortunately couldn't remember where they left off!!! BUT, they tried, they stepped up, and that is what matters in the end. They will deliver in spite of my fears.
I am off to the studio on Friday to demo a new song which I wrote during a mentoring class with Belinda Smith on my selected color. Of course I am a black and white girl, so writing a song about black somewhat stumped me for a minute or so, but then I remembered that when you are behind the sun, as well as the Son, it is black, just like a shadow, and we need to walk out of that into the light. Hence the song "Black Is The Shadow". This song is so not my usual writing, but I love it. A little different, but then so am I. And, who wants to write the same song over and over.
We are up to the last week of school for my kids, and finals are at hand. It continues to surprise me as to how each of them handle testing and learning. Of course, we have several learning disabilities, but, we go round the mountain and somehow come out the other side. I do believe the whole small farming thing helps them. The goats need milking, the "kids" need feeding with only one bottle a day now, and the chickens and ducks need looking after as well. The garden is planted and the rabbit fences are in place, learned that lesson a couple of years ago, but I still love the baby birds in at least three trees, the rabbit warren in the mulch dumped in the garden that we didn't quite distribute, the Canadian geese with their five babies, who by the way try to steal the buck's grain, so we gave them their own, and my four legged kids who are still adorable, but, need to give up their last bottle.
A last thought, as I sat in the dark black box theatre last night working out and setting lighting cues, I was reminded of a time where I lived in a dark place, not knowing Jesus, not understanding that there was a Savior who would guide my life and order my steps, then the light came on, illuminated the stage and brought all the characters to life, just like when the "light" turns on from Jesus and you understand that the stage you are on is nothing without the love and guidance of Christ.
I am off to the studio on Friday to demo a new song which I wrote during a mentoring class with Belinda Smith on my selected color. Of course I am a black and white girl, so writing a song about black somewhat stumped me for a minute or so, but then I remembered that when you are behind the sun, as well as the Son, it is black, just like a shadow, and we need to walk out of that into the light. Hence the song "Black Is The Shadow". This song is so not my usual writing, but I love it. A little different, but then so am I. And, who wants to write the same song over and over.
We are up to the last week of school for my kids, and finals are at hand. It continues to surprise me as to how each of them handle testing and learning. Of course, we have several learning disabilities, but, we go round the mountain and somehow come out the other side. I do believe the whole small farming thing helps them. The goats need milking, the "kids" need feeding with only one bottle a day now, and the chickens and ducks need looking after as well. The garden is planted and the rabbit fences are in place, learned that lesson a couple of years ago, but I still love the baby birds in at least three trees, the rabbit warren in the mulch dumped in the garden that we didn't quite distribute, the Canadian geese with their five babies, who by the way try to steal the buck's grain, so we gave them their own, and my four legged kids who are still adorable, but, need to give up their last bottle.
A last thought, as I sat in the dark black box theatre last night working out and setting lighting cues, I was reminded of a time where I lived in a dark place, not knowing Jesus, not understanding that there was a Savior who would guide my life and order my steps, then the light came on, illuminated the stage and brought all the characters to life, just like when the "light" turns on from Jesus and you understand that the stage you are on is nothing without the love and guidance of Christ.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Update
Well life has been more than busy lately. I had "tech" week last week for my high schoolers in the Lighthouse Theatre Company and tech week this week for my 3rd to 6th graders. Last week's show was amazing and with a little "push" my younger actors will be stellar for Thursday's performance of Goldilocks and The Three Pigs. As I write this Alicia, second eldest daughter at home, and the crafty one, is making my Storybook Land story books look amazing with butterflies and sparkles on their covers. Earlier, the sound board didn't work, and #10 light, which I replaced the bulb in last week, went out on me, so I guess I move the lights and re-program or give a new bulb another try. I love the fact that we have our own wonderful black box theatre, but it is old, and the lights are old and I feel a new "can" coming on.
I am so looking forward to going to "The Objective" which is orientation for possibly going out on "The Extreme Tour". I was really bowled over to be asked to this, but the more I read about it in the emails, the more I know that is is a ministry so close to my own heart. This is outreach to "at risk" groups. Well, that goes on in our home, which makes it more important to me, but I do have to get up there and show them what I do at some time during these four days, so, I have been hard at it with the guitar. Because of my shoulder injury and subsequent surgery, the guitar was out of my options for at least a year, so boy are my fingers sore. I do thank God for muscle memory, but the blisters have been "really good". My callouses are back, and you can see them. Great!!!
Isaiah, our child we rescued from Africa after a broken adoption, is really struggling with assimilating into normal family life. It has been nearly three years since we found out that he had been "dumped" back in Africa, and all the efforts we have tried seem to not quite fail, but not hit the mark either. After much consultation he is applying for a wonderful Government funded course called "Job Core". I hope this can finally help him put the past and all it's difficulties behind him and move on to better things.
My new cd, now called "Broken Hearts and Broken Wings" is looking like being released mid July, and I am very excited to see it moving along. It is truly the best music I have done, I guess because these are all stories of the foster and adoption process of my "at home" children. I still have a video to do and am really looking forward to putting my acting and singing skills together. I have never done a "music video" before, and I am really excited about the whole adventure.
Well I will try to blog a little more over the summer when things get a little less crazy, or maybe more crazy if I end up on the "Extreme Tour".
I am so looking forward to going to "The Objective" which is orientation for possibly going out on "The Extreme Tour". I was really bowled over to be asked to this, but the more I read about it in the emails, the more I know that is is a ministry so close to my own heart. This is outreach to "at risk" groups. Well, that goes on in our home, which makes it more important to me, but I do have to get up there and show them what I do at some time during these four days, so, I have been hard at it with the guitar. Because of my shoulder injury and subsequent surgery, the guitar was out of my options for at least a year, so boy are my fingers sore. I do thank God for muscle memory, but the blisters have been "really good". My callouses are back, and you can see them. Great!!!
Isaiah, our child we rescued from Africa after a broken adoption, is really struggling with assimilating into normal family life. It has been nearly three years since we found out that he had been "dumped" back in Africa, and all the efforts we have tried seem to not quite fail, but not hit the mark either. After much consultation he is applying for a wonderful Government funded course called "Job Core". I hope this can finally help him put the past and all it's difficulties behind him and move on to better things.
My new cd, now called "Broken Hearts and Broken Wings" is looking like being released mid July, and I am very excited to see it moving along. It is truly the best music I have done, I guess because these are all stories of the foster and adoption process of my "at home" children. I still have a video to do and am really looking forward to putting my acting and singing skills together. I have never done a "music video" before, and I am really excited about the whole adventure.
Well I will try to blog a little more over the summer when things get a little less crazy, or maybe more crazy if I end up on the "Extreme Tour".
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