An Interview with Carolyn Arends about her New Christmas Album

Hey, everyone!  Carolyn was so gracious to help me out with writing my piece for our church's Women's Newsletter, November/December edition. We had a meandering talk at Barnabas. Here is the edited and framed version:

I was enjoying a beautiful August day at Barnabas Family Ministries on Keats Island, a bucolic fragment of Eden that has surfaced off the coastline near Vancouver, British Columbia, when I got that familiar knot in the pit of my stomach: only 153 shopping left until Christmas.  More dire, though, was the fact that I hoped to write something festive and true about Christmas by October 15. How was I ever  to find anything new to say about my favorite holiday when I had less than eight weeks to do so? ‘Tis the season to try to get someone else to do your work for you.  Luckily for me, Carolyn Arends was also at Barnabas. Earlier this past summer, the Canadian singer/songwriter had been knee-deep in Yuletide joy as she completed work on her second full-length Christmas album. When I waylaid her for a little chat about her project – which she graciously supplied – I was able to glean fresh insights from her that would have otherwise eluded me. You see, of the thirteen songs on her new album, Christmas: The Story of Stories (October 2014, 2B Records), Carolyn wrote nine. You would have to walk many a mile (or kilometer) to find someone who has meditated more fully and fruitfully on the Incarnation and all its wonder than she. We found a place to sit, cracked open a box of After Eight Dinner Mints, and toasted the album with Diet Cokes. Carolyn brought the stories and perspective; I brought a questionable work ethic and a digital voice recorder; the following, interspersed with some lyrics and edited for clarity, is what came about:

O little town of Bethlehem, I think it is a lie/That you were still or dreamless on that first Christmas night . . .

Justine: When I listen to your songs, you seem to revisit a lot of themes, but with increasing depth, or complexity, or a slightly different viewpoint. I know that you have written a Christmas song for your church each year for many years. The narrative of Christmas in the Bible is basically two chapters in the Gospel According to Luke. How do you write a song from that every year? How do you face that?

Carolyn: I’ve been doing it for 20 years – which is a lot of Christmas songs – and I think that is what I like about the tradition. It’s an annual spiritual discipline of looking at the Story and saying, “What is the Story saying to me or to the people that are around me this year?” I hope in circling around and revisiting the same themes, it is going deeper. I think the last few years there has been more the vision that the story of the universe is happening in four giant acts: Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration. And, I kind of see that little passage in Luke as a fulcrum or pivot point that everything  hinges on, and that radiates out with a million implications that run backwards and forwards; and actually, that’s a lot to write about.

This is the Story of stories/This is the mystery of old/This is the Glory of glories/All that exists comes down to this: Newborn Baby Boy

Justine:  That idea seems to fit in with the title song of the album, The Story of Stories.

Carolyn: Yes, it is very much about how that story fits into the Big Story. In fact, there is a quote in the song from Philip Yancey about God’s wanting His family back. [“In a nutshell, the Bible from Genesis 3 to Revelation 22 tells the story of a God reckless with desire to get His family back" (The Jesus I Never Knew)] Also, I am in a different place every year. Some years, I can’t wait for Christmas to come; and other years . . . I can. And so, I need to sing different exhortations to myself.

There is a vacancy right here inside of me/It’s been that way for quite a while/But there’s a blessedness in this great emptiness/If it makes room here for the Child

Justine: One thing that I found very interesting in your song list was the inclusion of an Advent song. What can you tell me about the song, Vacancy?

Carolyn: I grew up in a church tradition that did not follow the liturgical calendar, so it is only in recent years that I have begun to learn about the four Sundays of Advent. I love the idea of reminding ourselves that the world was waiting – and in some ways, we’re still waiting, and in some ways, He’s come – But, yeah, in the year that I wrote that, for whatever reason, whatever was going on in my life, I was not feeling very Christmasy, and I had this little bit of an empty feeling leading up to Christmas and I was working through that, praying through that, and I was reminded that emptiness is necessary to make room for the Truth that is coming. That is why that song talks about the blessedness in the emptiness and the longing that reminds us how all of Creation waited for Him to come, and now we are waiting for Him to come again.

Let it dawn on us like the morning sun/Let it chase our night away/Let it dawn on us: This is God with us/In the light of Christmas day

Justine: I know that the song Dawn on Us came out of a series of silly puns you were torturing amusing your friends and followers with on Facebook and Twitter. I stayed up all night to see where the sun went. Then it dawned on me. Tell me about writing songs that surprise you.

Carolyn:  Yes, it really delights me that what ended up coming out of that silly joke was a serious take on the Christmas story; and, it reminds me of what Frederick Buechner said about hearing the gospel as a “wild, marvelous joke” – it really is great news, and it should involve laughter. Also the song Vacancy: I was in a fairly blue space when I wrote it, but because I ended up writing it for ukulele, now it makes me really happy to play it. You cannot be unhappy on ukulele, right? So now when I play it, I am so happy – and it’s supposed to be my melancholy song.

Friends that’s the reason we need this season/To help us remember, joy can still come/To a world often troubled and tragic . . ./So bring on the old Christmas Magic

Justine: Have you found inspiration in other unusual places? Quotes? Experiences? Readings?

Carolyn: You know, I’ve been a part of Vancouver’s Pacific Theatre’s Christmas Presence for several years. Well, there is one story that gets read almost every year – a nostalgia piece – by a local journalist who writes about his mother’s going over-the-top for Christmas; it’s very warm and sentimental. He talks about how his mom would go to the bargain basement of The Bay and find broken crystal ornaments and buy them for nothing and repair them, because she understood that things did not have to be perfect to be beautiful. At the end of the story, the writer reveals that he has cerebral palsy. Anyway, probably my current favorite song on the album is one called Christmas Magic that came out of that piece. We have a reaction to all the commercialism at Christmas and all the hype – and we do need to be careful about that stuff – but there is actually something beautiful about tradition, about having one time a year when we make the effort –imperfect as we all are – and try to come together and make something beautiful together.

May your Christmas season be merry and bright, and may your heart resound with comfort and joy as you live again the Story of stories, that pivot point of the universe when Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus turned into O Holy Night.

If you would like more information about Carolyn Arends and Christmas: The Story of Stories, please visit her website (www.carolynarends.com). Merry Christmas!      

Christmas: The Story of Stories *Justine's Review*

Album: Christmas: The Story of Stories

Artist: Carolyn Arends

Label: 2B Records (Oct. 2014)

O little town of Bethlehem, I think it is a lie/That you were still and dreamless on that first Christmas night . . .

With those words, Carolyn Arends takes on the first of several Christmas song classics whose iconic imagery needs to be challenged in "It Was a Holy Night," the opening song on her new album, Christmas: The Story of Stories. The quiet, empty streets so long imagined give way in the mind's eye to a real place teeming with soldiers and politicians; a place far from reverent and peaceful, but rather overcrowded, cruel, and hungry. She sets the stage vividly so that she can remind us that "And then the Baby came . . . and when the Baby came . . ." Well, there probably was some crying going on away in that manger, and those herald angels we harken unto may well have gasped and trembled to see God make His home as a babe in "such poor and broken place." They truly must have wondered how we could deserve a gift like Him. "Ah, but just the same, the Baby came . . ."

Silent night? Probably not. Holy night? Most definitely!

That's just Carolyn being Carolyn. When you spend your creative life wrestling with the Holy Spirit, and your theological joints have been knocked out of place more times than you can count, you're not afraid to take on even the most sacrosanct of holiday hymns. I get what the writers of these classic songs were trying to do: create an atmosphere of holiness by bathing this crazy, radical juncture of history -- the Incarnation -- in serene, majestic splendor. I cannot help but think, though, that Carolyn's vision is much closer to the truth. God came then and comes now in the midst of the mess and the chaos and the dirt and the rebellion, and He makes it holy despite all of that, despite all of us. "Ah, but just the same, the Baby came . . ."

Christmas: The Story of Stories is, in some ways, not a very Christmasy album. That is, it eschews all the gimmicks that you usually find on even the most artistic of Christmas albums released by the most talented songwriters and sincere musicians. "Well, it sounds like a Carolyn Arends album," one of my friends told me, a quizzical look upon her face. Um, yeah. She wrote nine of the thirteen songs. The sound is quintessentially Carolyn, too: folk-pop with a laid-back vibe; heavy on the myriad strings, light on back beat; lyrically-driven, deep-rooted, authentic; with unexpected touches of funk and fun. The most Christmasy arrangements are probably on "Everything Changes at Christmas," which manages somehow to evoke church bells ringing in the middle of snowfall, and two of the classics, "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" and "O Come All Ye Faithful" which are very traditional. So, this may not be the album you put on for background music at your office Christmas party. As such, it is not an album merely to be listened to; it is an album that needs to be heard.

And what will those who have ears to hear find? Nothing less than a bold -- audacious really -- attempt to get at the core of exactly what the mystery means of a God who puts on humanity in its most vulnerable state and comes to dwell with us and eventually die for us, all because He cannot stand to let us go. Carolyn respects her listeners by assuming that we are as interested in grappling with this glorious riddle as she is; that assumption has led to a really fine collection of songs that transcends seasonal affiliation. It is the Story of stories.

"Vacancy" is one of my favorites. It is that rarest of things: a new Advent song. When I spoke with Carolyn about it this past summer, she commented on the paradox that she was immensely happy playing a song with the melancholy themes of longing and emptiness. She attributed that to the bouncy presence of the ukulele -- that interminably Pollyanna-ish instrument. Indeed. I think, too, that while the song might have been written in a "blue space," the lyrics are ultimately so hope-filled (as every Advent song should be), that it is perhaps a happier lyric than she had intended. Sometimes when you're quite hungry, but you know that soon you are going to eat something very good, you really appreciate the hunger, even if it hurts a little. Just the knowing that the fulfillment is on its way makes the hunger at once both more intense and less awful. That's Advent for you.

"Everything Changes at Christmas" was released in a different arrangement as a single a few years ago.  I was a bit disappointed when I heard the new version on the album, because I had so long loved the old. This new version has grown on me, though, as I think it matches the flavor of the album as a whole better in its latest rendition. I really like the way that it builds at the end with the sound of bells ringing out "Ode to Joy" and "Joy to the World" -- was that the glockenspiel??? -- and now my only wish is that they had run with that theme for a wee bit longer; it is over far too soon.

"Christmas Magic" could have used  a line about After Eight dinner mints, but I'm not going to go around telling Carolyn how to write her nostalgic Christmas song. I joke. It is lovely, especially the line about not being ashamed to hang dollar-store tinsel, because "there is great worth in reflecting the light."

"God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" is my favorite traditional Christmas song. What a treat and a surprise to find it on this album! This arrangement has a funky klezmer sort of sound that is a lot of fun. Comforting and joyful, indeed.

The song that most surprised me was "The Sound." I was not quite ready for the rush of emotion that overcame me when I heard, "Hush now, listen, that's the sound of the Kingdom coming, the Kingdom coming, the Kingdom coming to your town." Goose bumps and tears. I thought that the seamless transition into "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" was well-done and apropos. That could have been pulled off as an instrumental interlude, but it is always nice to hear Carolyn sing, too.

My daughter loves "You Gotta Get Up," a Rich Mullins song which is basically a kid's take on Christmas morning -- all mixed up with reindeer and presents and peace on earth and "that Baby born in Bethlehem" -- with the recurring plea to Mom and Dad to "get up!" already. It has a nice, bright, cheerful sound and is altogether charming. What I find funny is that not once in the eleven Christmases we've now had with Sadie has she ever awoken before us on December 25. Ha!

I get a particular kick out of "Long Way to Go," because I like the lyrical device of Carolyn's using mild expressions of amazement that I usually associate with the American South to pack a punch into the chorus: Goodness gracious, have mercy! Goodness gracious, man alive! Goodness gracious, glory be! I feel in the need of a mint julep after hearing that song, bless her heart.

"Story of Stories" is the anchor here, the title song. Of course, I love the reference to Philip Yancey's summation of human history from The Jesus I Never Knew: "In a nutshell, the Bible from Genesis 3 to Revelation 22 tells the story of a God reckless with desire to get His family back." He could have just started over/Left us alone in the dark/But our God is not like that/He wants His family back/He's had a plan from the start . . . "What Kind of King?" complements "Story of Stories" in such a way that it makes sense that it follows right afterward. OK, so we know that our God wants His family back, and so He sends us -- well, what kind of king exactly? Only Himself incarnate to dwell among us in the lowliest state. What kind of plan ever goes this far?/What kind of mercy puts itself at ours?/What kind of Maker walks the earth He made/From the cradle to the cross and leaves an empty grave?/What kind of love? . . .

"Dawn on Us" was another surprise; it is a gloriously happy, radiant song featuring my favorite unsung hero of the Christmas story: Joseph. Let it dawn on us/Like the morning sun/Let it chase our night away/Let it dawn on us:/This is God with us/In the light of Christmas day. And in the light of every day. This is then followed by "O Come All Ye Faithful" which is simply done, beautifully rendered, and ends with Carolyn, a cappella, singing "Christ the Lord" into the stillness.

OK, that was another of my way-too-long reviews.  Please forgive me.  It's been five long years since I have had the immense pleasure of listening to and then writing about a new Carolyn Arends album. That's what blogs are for; I will self-edit and put a more succinct version on Amazon. I almost wish I did not love it so much -- that I could find some flaw at which to pick in a picayune way simply to bolster my reviewer creds -- but, nope; to my ears, there is not a false note.

Ah, here is one slightly disappointing thing: On the past few albums that Carolyn has done as an independent artist, she has included something funny in the midst of the typical legal warnings on CDs about unauthorized reproduction. She had five years to plan something amusing to put on the disc for this release, and I was giddy to think about what sort of secret, sly thing she would work into the fine print; and, she did not put anything. Nothing. I am sorely crestfallen.

If that's the worst I can say, though, then verily I am blessed.  You will be, too, if you make Christmas: The Story of Stories a part of your music library not only for this and every Christmas, but for random year-round listening when you just need a reminder about how glorious and seismic and extravagant this holy tide of Christmas truly is.

OK, MK and MarkD, you're it!

The Story of Stories!

OK those of you who were Kickstarters on Carolyn's new album: Today is the day!  I am sure you have all been able to download your digital copy and listen to the whole shebang at least three times (as I have most certainly done). So, what do you think?

I, for one, am blown away. It's almost unreal how good this album is.  And I hate saying that, because I think it makes me seem to be just a sycophantic fan-girl, and I would like to think that I am really better than that. But, I have not heard a false note on this thing.  It is enchanting from start to finish -- and WHAT A FINISH!  Pitch perfect all the way.  How many more clichés can I pull out of my hat that have to do with music, huh?

I plan to write a full review soon -- hey, someone has got to win that lamp; why not your humble blog host?  I do want to hear what others are thinking -- anything from a full-on rockin' review to dashed-off first impressions.

Christmas came on October 1 this year.  I knew it seemed like it was getting earlier and earlier every year . . .

Long Time No Posts AND Big Album News!!

Possible Cover of Upcoming Album
(Not Finalized)

OK, so my last post here was a general whine about missing the music of Carolyn Arends -- new albums, concerts, random song goodness she sometimes throws out there -- and a lament about how her graduate program at Regent seemed to be taking FOREVER. Happy am I to report that her graduate studies are now complete, her designation as a Master of Theology has been confirmed on paper (though it has been confirmed in the hearts of those who love her theological ruminations and points of view for much longer), and she lickety-split announced the funding of a second Christmas album through  Kickstarter! Whoo-hoo!  Am I right?

Well, the Kickstarter project was funded at over 260% because, well, everybody who has ever heard Carolyn's music loves it and wants more of it and I knew that it was not only Vermonster, MarkD and I who have been mooking about wishing for more new stuff for the past five years. To paraphrase Glengarry Glen Ross: People were just sitting there, waiting to give her their money; and she was musician enough to take it!  Yay, yay, yay for Christmas: The Story of Stories -- coming on or about October 15, 2014!

As we get updated information, I'll try to be a bit more faithful about posting here. Would love to hear from my fellow contributors, too. Let's have a good, happy squeal together and feed off the awesome! Cheers!

I Miss the Music

Seems like an age since I've been to an honest-to-goodness Carolyn Arends concert (December 2011, I think) (I don't count Barnabas) (I don't know why; I just don't).

Wonder if there are any new songs . . .

I can hardly wait until she is done with school.  But, will it ever be the same?  I'm not sure, because it seems like she's veered off onto a more speaker-for-hire-with-some-singing-thrown-in-ish path than a folky-rock star one.  That's cool, I guess.  But I miss the music.  Don't you?


In the words of Amy Grant, circa 1997:
Missing you is just a part of livin'
And missing you feels like a way of life
I'm livin' out the life that I've been given
But baby I still wish you would finish school already and get back to your life's work of answering Art with art - oooooooooo

:-)

By the way, I hope y'all appreciate the AWESOME graphic I used for this post.  It is so deep.  So very, very deep.

Surgery Prayers, Please

Hi Carolyn Arends fans. Mark.D here, asking for your prayers. I am scheduled to have bilateral hip replacement surgery (that is, both hips) on Tuesday, 11 Sep 2012. I have a good surgeon, am going to a great hospital and am looking forward to being able to do some things I can't do any longer, post-surgery, of course. But your prayers for a safe and effective surgery will certainly also help! I hope to post frequently about the surgery at markdopita.blogspot.com. Thanks in advance . . . Mark

Songs I've Been Working On

I've been working on some of Carolyn's songs on guitar.  As you may well know, I am not a competent musician by any means.  And, Carolyn uses chords that I find tough (see: "Do We Dare").  Still, I have managed to find a few that I can stumble through.

"Be Still" from Love Was Here First

"Nothing Can Separate" from Love Was Here First

"The Lord's Servant" from Christmas, An Irrational Season

"Last Thursday" from Feel Free

"Father, Thy Will be Done" from Feel Free
"Go With God" from This Much I Understand
"You Take My Soul By Storm" from I Can Hear You

  

Here is my question for any guitarists who stop by this site and who have played Carolyn's songs -- especially if you are not a virtuoso on guitar, but a novice or slightly better (but not much):  Which songs have you learned to play?  Where have you found the chords?  Have you ever taken a really tricky song (see: "Do We Dare") and been able to simplify it while retaining its basic structure?

  

For me, I have found my chords from the Love Was Here First songbook (.pdf file on the CD), from purchasing from Carolyn's store ("The Lord's Servant"), from the Internet ("Last Thursday" and everything else), and from the Feel Free songbook.  I would love to figure out an easier way to play some more of her songs -- especially if anyone out there has "dumbed down" "Do We Dare."

Any insight from visitors would be greatly appreciated.  Thanks!

Barnabas -- Visiting Again for the First Time

I hesitate even to write about how wonderful, gorgeous, blessed, transcendent, sublime Barnabas Family Ministries out there on Keats Island in British Columbia is.  Truly, it's hard enough getting space reserved for the Mark and Carolyn Arends Family Camp sessions without posting publicly about how, once you go, no summer without that experience will ever be complete again.  But, much like sharing the amazing music of Carolyn herself, Barnabas is just too good a thing to keep to oneself. 

Just registered today for our (could it be?) seventh session there.  And this year, I am terribly excited -- even more than usual.  The only thing missing from Barnabas has been our best friends, the Kurzejas.  Every year, I have begged, pleaded, cajoled, and hassled them, and this year was the first time I got anything even close to a "maybe" back.  OK, so they live out in the Midwest and this camp is on the far reaches of the west coast, and there are six of them, so this is a potential logistical nightmare.  But, more of a nightmare would be their having watched all their kids grow up and move on without ever once having experienced together a family camp at Barnabas -- especially one featuring the sage musings of Mr. and Mrs. Arends (and the phenomenal music of Mrs. Arends and Mr. Capier).  So, I took that "maybe" and ran with it.  Jason maintains that there is nothing more dangerous in his world than Justine with an idea and access to a credit card.  I went ahead and registered the Kurzeja Six.  Then, I called the mom up and dared her to cancel on me.

Praying, praying, praying for this one to come to be.  No one I know needs and deserves the absolutely Spirit-soaked adventure in Eden that is a week at Barnabas more than they.  If it is of the Lord, it will come; and, if not, Barnabas has a generous cancellation window. 

I, for one, am hoping beyond hope that I will have the extremely delightful occasion this summer to experience Barnabas again for the very first time through the wonder-filled eyes of my best friend and her family.

Happy

I will dare to dream

I will dare to believe in something, baby, and

I will dare to be

Happy

~ Carolyn Arends

I guess "Happy" (This Much I Understand, 1999) has been my theme song these past couple days.  These past couple years?  This whole span of my life (at least since I first heard it in '99)?  Happy, happy, happy.  Why am I so darn happy?  "It is pretty annoying," my husband will say, echoing the rhetorical query at the beginning of the song.  He thinks I'm happy because I am oblivious.  Maybe a wee bit . . . in some ways; but, I feel deeply, think vigorously, and act accordingly.  Yet, overall, every day, with some landmark exceptions, the emoticon of my life is the happy-go-lucky smiley face.   

Some people are just naturally happier than others.  I read that once.  Let's see, it was in a John Stossel book that I think I have since sold back to Half Price Books.  I distinctly remember that there was a study or two he cited that proved, once and for all (is anything ever proved "once and for all" by a study?), that there are certain people out there who are just happier.  Score one genetically for me (this pretty much makes up for inheriting my mother's thighs*)!

When I worked for B&N in Sherman Oaks, the book I most remember flying off the shelf was Dennis Prager's Happiness is a Serious Problem.  Never read it.  I have made it a point of honor never to read anything filed in the "Self Help" section of a bookstore.  But, I understand it to be an admonishment to all those Eeyores out there to follow a little advice from Ella (or, if you prefer, Judy Garland) (but who would prefer Judy to Ella?) and "Get Happy."  From what I've read about his book, he fingers the mindset of expectations as the cause of so much modern malaise and general grousing.  I had a camp counselor tell me that 28 years ago:  "Don't expect anything; just welcome whatever comes and treasure the blessings." 

But I expect everything.  My mind is always full of all the good things bound to come my way.  I guess my difference from others is that, when they don't pan out (as often enough happens), I am never devastated.  I'm already onto the next dream, scheme, or hopeful fancy.  Maybe that's where the "oblivious" part comes in.  I just never linger on sadness or disappointment.  There's a whole beautiful world out there!  Why mope?

Have you ever read George MacDonald's Phantastes?  A fabulous fairy story -- enthralling, eerie, enchanting!  And, as my best friend, Flicka, has said, it is a theological powerhouse of a book.  In the last paragraph, the hero, Anodos, hears music converging in his ear into an eternal chant: "A great good is coming -- is coming -- is coming to thee, Anodos."  He goes on to conclude that "I know that good is coming to me -- that good is always coming; though few have at all times the simplicity and courage to believe it.  What we call evil is the only and best shape which, for the person and his condition at the time, could be assumed by the best good."  Such a faith as that can only be seen through the filter of Christ on the cross.

And, so I, too, know that a great good is coming -- is coming -- is coming to me.  I heard echoes of it as a child genetically blessed with a happy disposition; but since I first believed in the only One who is good, that promise has swelled into my lifesong.  The wonder is not that I am happy; the wonder is how anyone who knows the Lord is not.  And yet, I know many Christians are just . . . simply . . . not.  

For some it takes courage beyond human strength to be happy.  If you've stumbled upon this blog post and that is a struggle for you, please do not think I in any way wish to minimize or wave off your pain.  There is a reason Carolyn wrote that you have to "dare to be happy."  I would just encourage you to remember that a great good is coming -- is coming -- is coming to you as well.  Be bold enough to meet it.       
 
*Not that the pie helps, mind you.

For Her Very First Mother's Day

There is no better gift for any new mom of faith -- or long-time mom of faith -- or expecting mom of faith -- or, really, any mom at any time anywhere -- than Carolyn Arends's 2002 release We've Been Waiting for You.  Sure, it may be too late to get it from Feed the Lake (our preferred purchasing destination here at Carolyn Arends 202) in time for this year's Mom's Fête; but, lucky duck, you can get it in two days from Amazon.  While you're at it, make certain you also pick up the accompanying gift book, We've Been Waiting For You.  Always a good idea to have a few of those around for those awkward, unexpected baby shower moments.

This public service announcement brought to you by Concerned Fans of Carolyn Arends and of Moms in General, in association with People Against Bad Gifts. 

Sunday School Object Lessons from Mrs. A.

Spring is (finally) at least sorta, kinda lurking out there somewhere in the great Pacific Northwest.  Mr. Golden Sun is occasionally gracing us with his presence, and even those obstreperous grey clouds are taking a cue now and again to exit stage left.  And so it will soon be time to order the caterpillars for Sunday School.

I'm a caterpillar who will not cocoon/feels like a tomb/I will not die.

For the past few years -- ever since I first heard the song at Barnabas, in fact -- I have used this line from Carolyn's "My Favourite Lie" as the springboard for one of my Kindergartners' favorite object lessons of the year: raising butterflies.

All creation sings out the glory of God, which is one reason why Christians need never to fear science.  The life cycle of the butterfly is one of those magnificent examples He has given us in His gentle, loving way to illustrate our own condition.  For, what is born as a caterpillar can certainly die as a caterpillar; but it is not meant to.  It is meant to be reborn into a butterfly -- the form in which it will spend eternity.  So, if you, like the caterpillar in the song, refuse to cocoon (or chrysalize*), you are dooming yourself to the death of a caterpillar -- namely being squashed by an eight-year-old boy between two rocks or pecked off your scrumptious leaf by a bird.  Of course, a butterfly can also be snatched mid-air by a hungry bird; but, you get to eat nectar through your proboscis and fly around with brightly-painted wings as compensation.  OK, the metaphor is getting a little cloudy here.  However, the main things that the kids remember from our adventures in butterfly rearing are: a) science is really, really cool because God made it that way, and b) look at this concrete example of what it might mean for us to be born again in Christ as a new creation!  The old caterpillar is passed away, and the butterfly has become new -- made of the same materials, but transformed.  At least, I hope that's what the kiddos take away.  Kindergartners are unfathomable. 

I am a seed that will not be broken/For the flower to open/ No, I will not die.

The next line in the song is another great object lesson along the same lines.  Luckily, my classroom has a grand and glorious twenty-foot window ledge, on which many a growing thing can receive sufficient sunlight to bloom.  So, into their individual pots my munchkies will plant their flower seeds.  Hopefully, not one of those will prove as recalcitrant as the song's, and we will get a bevy of blossoms.

Alack, alas, Carolyn has penned no line relating to the life cycle of a frog; I had to come up with that object lesson on my own.  Of course, that is just another example from nature of how God takes living things and transforms them into what they are supposed to be.  Again, many die as tadpoles; but, they were created to be frogs.  In any event, the children love to watch the little legs come peeping out while the fishy tail shrinks into nothingness.  Frogs are pretty darn amazing!

So, many thanks to Mrs. A. for helping me form my spring curriculum.  What a grand time of year this is!  God is so good to us.

*"Chrysalize" is, according to my OED, a nonce word; however, we really ought to use it often and bring it into the general English lexicon, don't you agree?  Otherwise, the way to describe a caterpillar's going into his intermediate pupal stage is just too wordy.

Beautiful Bones

I am a words girl.  I love language -- especially the English language with all of its twists and turns and inconsistencies and unexpected beauties.  So, when I first heard Carolyn's music, 'twas the lyrics that captivated me.  What was she saying in these songs?  Oooh, she's saying good stuff.  OK, I'll keep listening.

I'll never forget the first time I heard "What I Wouldn't Give."  I thought it was so masterly in the use of language -- breaking down what have become cliches and building them back up into a seamless whole of light-hearted regret.  "Light-hearted regret" is the best way to describe the overall sense of the song.  I mean, it is about regret, but not really about heartache; there is no real bitterness there.  And the music is so sprightly and catchy, you cannot feel bad, no matter what the lyrics say.  For years I wondered about this song.  What did it mean?  Where did it come from?  How could Carolyn write a humorous treatment of lost love when she was so obviously deliriously happy in her marriage.  And,what in the world did Mark think about this?

Of course, I found out later that the "love angle" was contrived to make the song readily accessible in the mind of the listener and that the real inspiration for the lyrics were Carolyn's college years -- her light-hearted regret that she spent so much time sneaking off into the music rooms and playing and writing songs, rather than fully absorbing the content of her courses.  Ah, now the lack of bitterness makes sense:  Can she really regret her topsy-turvy university priorities?  I cannot think that she can; but she can think that she can; and so we get this song -- the most playful, rueful song about missed opportunities ever written. 

So, I am a words girl and not a music girl.  Seven years of taking piano lessons and filling in endless books of music theory did little to inspire me toward a broad understanding of music.  I even got conned into taking a music course my freshman year of college and hated it with purple passion.  Lass mich allein!  I am an English major!  Back to "Bartleby the Scrivener" for me! 

Twelve years ago, after I had just lost my mother to cancer, my dad gave me a guitar.  I had apparently once expressed a fleeting wish that I could play guitar like Amy Grant; so, my dad seized upon that whimsy and bartered with an old hippie who ran the local music store a hearing aid (my dad was an audiologist) for a lovely acoustic instrument.  My dad is the type of dad who does things like this.  I am so blessed to have him.

My dad is also the sort of person who sees music as one of life's greatest gifts -- able to be exactly what you need at specifically the right time.  He instinctively thought, I am sure, that my great grief over losing my mom would be assuaged a bit by bringing music into my life.  And by music, I mean the active creation of music, rather than the more passive (though still valuable) experience of listening.  I thanked him for the instrument, strummed a few times, sighed, and put it away.

Over the ensuing twelve years, I would occasionally bring out my guitar, try to tune it, break some strings, scream, and shove it back into the closet.  Two years ago, while I was cleaning out the same in preparation for a garage sale, I threw the guitar into the OUT pile.  My husband, bless him, took it out and put it back into the closet.  "You're not getting rid of your guitar," he announced.

"I'm never going to learn how to play it," I countered, the holy fire of spring cleaning burning in my eyes.  "Every time I try to tune it, I break a string, and that scares me to death."

"You're not getting rid of it," he repeated in a tone that brooks no contradiction.  I meekly let it stay.

Fast forward to January 2011.  I am the pre-K-K worship leader at church.  Ask me not how I fell into this mare's nest of talent incompatibility.  I sing (occasionally on key) and dance around like a monkey with the children to music on a CD player.  Here's the trouble:  I am an alto of epic distortions.  Think Ashley Cleveland with a cigarette habit.  And most CDs of kids' songs are registered in an incredibly high, piping pitch.  And it is almost impossible for me to sing in my own register while hearing wiry sopranos all around.  So I squeak and crack like an old rusty chair, and the kids shudder in revulsion.  I dance even harder like a monkey to distract them.  All in all, it's a losing proposition.  But, nobody else will take this worship gig.  Oy.

So, think I, what if I just learned to play some of these songs on guitar?  Then, I could sing as low as I pleased, and no one could stop me.  Ha! Ha!  But, how, I wondered, was I to even learn how to play this mysterious stringed contraption?

I went on-line and found a music school (4/4 School of Music) that offered a roster of classes in a wide variety of instruments.  Deciding that it was time to introduce Sadie to the rigors of piano lessons ("I don't wanna take piano, Mom!") and longing to learn some guitar, I signed us up for concurrent lessons with two different teachers.  She got Ms. Marks.  I got Isaac.  Let me tell you:  We sat ourselves down in a warm tub of butter.

Says Sadie now:  "I love piano, Mom!  When do I get to go see Ms. Marks again?"  Say I:  "I love guitar.  Thank you, Isaac."  And this gets me to the whole reason I felt moved to sit and write this meandering post today.  I have recently finally begun to understand what more musically-inclined people have always known:  Carolyn's songs have beautiful bones.  The muscle and meat may be her astounding lyrics.  The supple skin may be her pleasant voice.  But, strip those away, and her songs are lovely right down to their strong, structured skeletons.  I know this now, because Isaac and I have been dissecting "I Can Hear You."  And it is beautiful.

Even Isaac (who is a truly remarkable, dedicated teacher and one from whom you ought to take lessons should you ever find yourself in need of drum or guitar instruction in the greater Bellevue/Renton region of Washington), whose musical tastes, from what I can gather, run more toward Pink Floyd and not so much the arena of folkie Christian pop really likes "I Can Hear You."  He said, and I quote, "This is a really good song.  Thank you for introducing me to it."  Hey, man, no prob.  Introducing people to Carolyn's music is what I do. 

Anyway, a big and unexpected boon in trying to learn this song is the backing track I was able to get from Feed the Lake.  Unlike most of the backing tracks (or, at least the one I got for "Not a Tame Lion"), the one for "I Can Hear You" is only the music, no background vocals.  So, I can really hear the chords that Isaac has me working on.  It is such a help.  Of course, I still sing along, but now my lyrics are: D-and-D-and-D-and-D-and-D-and-D-and-D-and-D-and-D-and-D-and-switch to G-and-G-and-G-and-G-and-G-D riff-D riff-D riff-and-back to D . . . etc."  Helps me remember when it's just me and my class notes and my beloved guitar alone at night in the living room.  Helps me gain some confidence.

Have you printed up the Love Was Here First Songbook from the LWHF CD?  I just did.  More beautiful bones to discover.  I can hardly wait!

Fingers, Fingers, Stubby Fingers

I am coming to terms with the fact that I have very stubby fingers.  OK, maybe not very stubby; but, a long line of peasant ancestors has imbued me with very strong, very capable, rather compact fingers.  Great for kneading bread dough and scrubbing bathrooms.  Not so great for fingering guitar chords.

I think I've finally competenced Dmaj, by the way.  "Competenced" is a word I have coined to be somewhere between "bumbled" and "mastered."  Now, according to the Feel Free songbook, I only need 584 other chords in my repertoire to play all the songs therein.

So, as I was lamenting my cruel genetic lot on the phone with my dad, he said, "Hey, how about Carolyn's fingers?  Have you ever put your hand up to hers to see how they measure up?"

OK, Dad, totally creepy.  Can you even imagine how that interaction would play out?  Neither can I; but, I'm not about to try it. 

But, it got me searching the Internet to try to find good pics of the Mighty C's hands.  Not easy, I tell ya.  Then, I realized that the best picture I've seen of her fully extended hand is on this very site, to your right. 

So, what do you think?  They seem longish to me, but not overly long.  Of course, that's her strumming and picking hand; but, I'm assuming the chord-fingering one roughly matches.

I've been on web forums, looking up advice for my stubby digits.  It seems that the only answer is practice, practice, practice.  So, I'm off to do that right now!  Peace!

"Ex umbris et imaginibus in veritatem" -- The "Fitful Glimpses" of Arends and Newman

"Never was a mind so unceasingly in motion.  But the motion was always growth, and never revolution."

~ Owen Chadwick on John Henry Newman

I am in no sense a theological scholar.  Heck, I don't even read theological tomes unless someone is able to convince me that I'd better.  I never seek them out. 

So, it's a good thing that I read publications that publish essays and reviews by people who are theological scholars, and who write well and convincingly about theological things.  Else, I would be even more of an ignoramus than I am.  Hurrah!

Anyway, this disclaimer only goes to introduce a budding idea that came over me while I was reading Paul Dean's fascinating more-than-a-book-review/biographical essay on John Henry Newman, "Newman's Worldwide Mind," in this month's issue of The New Criterion.  I read everything they put into TNC, because I know it will be edifying -- even if rather mystifying. 

John Henry Newman, in case you do not know, as I did not before I read Mr. Dean's essay, was a 19th century British Anglican clergyman who converted to the Roman Catholic faith.  He was a famous and popular scholar and writer, publishing, among others, still-read classics (I'll take the word of the consensus on these, having read nary a one) Apologia Pro Vita Sua, A Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent, and The Idea of a University.*  He was eventually made a cardinal in the Catholic church by Pope Leo XIII; and he was beatified last year by Pope Benedict XVI.

Mr. Dean's piece is, in a large part, a biography of the method of Newman's mind; in particular, the way in which he would revisit and reassess ideas in his writing, each time clarifying and refining and polishing.  The quote above that Mr. Dean pulls out from Owen Chadwick's biography of Newman early in his article really struck me, because that is how I so often see Carolyn's writing -- whether in her songs or essays.  She revisits themes time and again -- each examination offering some new aspect or facet or thought; but, she, too, always seems to grow in her understanding, rather than turning all her previous notions upside down or discarding them.  The Carolyn Arends of Love Was Here First is the same Carolyn Arends of I Can Hear You -- just wiser, deeper, more studied, more complex.  

Be forewarned, casual listener:  Carolyn Arends may wrap her ideas in pleasant and catchy melodies and sing them with a sweet and yielding voice; but, they are powerful, potent, and challenging ideas all the same.  They will seep right through your conscious, into your subconscious, and shape your worldview almost before you know it.  But, take heart: you will grow, too; and, what is better, you will grow toward the Truth.

Newman called it "dogma."  And his use of "dogma" has little to do with the idea this modern time has falsely attributed to it, namely one of "blindly inflexible insistence."  Rather, as Mr. Dean continues, "[Newman] accepted dogma, not as a substitute for independent thought, but as the formulated expression of the mind of the church down the ages."  Under this definition, Newman saw dogma as something not only to be respected and accepted by the believer, but as something also to be thought upon and refined and contributed to by the believer in his own time. 

Now, here is where Newman's theology gets a little dicey for the Protestant believer.  Mr. Dean writes: "[F]ar from Christian doctrine being presented ready-made in the Bible, the church had the task of piecing together scriptural insights, reformulating its ideas more and more clearly as heresies demanded refutation, until, over the centuries, doctrines were agreed which were implied by scripture, and not contradictory to it, even though they might not be explicitly stated by it."  And yet, is this wholly troublesome?  I think we all have some extra-Biblical beliefs that, while they do not clash in any way with the truth revealed in the Bible, are in no way stated in our sacred texts.  It is an act of Christian discernment to prayerfully seek out the complementary things and discard the heretical ones.  And that is how you get a song from Carolyn like "According to Plan" -- a song that might upset Calvinists (aside: what a cheerless doctrine to me is pre-destination), but makes a lot of sense to non-Calvinists.  Is there anything in that song that clashes with the mind of God as revealed in the Bible?  No, but it might clash with your extra-Biblical worldview.  And, that's OK.  This is how we develop a communal Christian dogma -- listening, questioning, refining, arguing, praying, and loving Christ enough to put up with each other until all is revealed.

Mr. Dean goes on to write:  "Newman's own development was, as I suggested earlier, a miniature version of this process.  When he talked about the "idea" of something, he used the word almost in a Platonic sense, to denote not the mental conception of a thing but the thing itself in its totality, which the mind can only grasp by fitful glimpses. . . . 'The idea which represents and object or supposed object,' he wrote in the Essay on Development, 'is commensurate with the sum total of its possible aspects, however they may vary in the separate consciousness of individuals.' . . . Refining his ideas in response to attacks, objections, and genuine misunderstandings, he came to see a pattern in church history, a significance in church teaching, which had been latent all along, but which only became clear over many years.  He never supposed that he had come to the end of what was to be said about a question, since further definitions, modifications, and adjustments (but not fundamental contradictions) would be called forth by changing circumstances." [emphasis mine] 

And that is how we can get from Carolyn, years apart, songs such as "Seize the Day" and "This is the Moment," "Out of My Hands" and "Be Still," "Love is Always There" and "The Last Word."  If each truth about eternity is a diamond, then each thought is a facet.  Carolyn, as well as every other worthy Christian thinker, assiduously and tirelessly polishes -- defining, modifying, and adjusting.  Were we to ask her if she thinks she will ever come to the end of what was to be said about a question, I am sure she would answer "Not a chance."  This is the glory and grouse of a time-bound mortal grappling with eternity.  We'll never get a full handle on these mysteries until we have left time behind in the presence of our King.  But, it's our charge and life's work to try.

"Ex umbris et imaginibus in veritatem."  That was the phrase Cardinal Newman requested on his memorial tablet.  Mr. Dean kindly translated it for us:  Out of the shadows and conjectures into the Truth.  This is a deserving creed for all Christians at all times; but, one especially fitting for my favorite songwriter who has never been afraid to wrestle with angels or try to make sense of the mess and mystery of life.  And she lets us come along for the ride!

*All available in sixty seconds or less on Kindle -- to whose charms I increasingly think I might have to succumb.  

I Can Hear You Video

Lesson #1:  The music studio said to bring along samples of the kinds of music you would like to learn how to play.  So, I handed my guitar teacher, Isaac, my Carolyn Arends Feel Free songbook.  I was all cool like, "Hey, I like folkie rock and hymns, yo."  Isaac's all, "Right on.  Is she on YouTube?" "Dude," I acknowledged.

(See, I am getting the hipster musician-speak down already.  Am I a quick study, or what?  Or what.)

Lesson #2:  Says Isaac: So, I found her on YouTube and there was this song that I cannot remember the name of but I think the opening went something like this."  And he proceeded to play a very close approximation of the opening bars of "I Can Hear You."  Mouth agape, eyes wide, I wondered, how he could do that?

Music people are really amazing.  I totally agree with Thomas Sowell that the only people worth envying are those with natural musical ability -- y'know, those who can really play -- and those who can eat anything they want and not grow fat.  Amen and amen again, my brother.

Then, Isaac said, "That video was something else."  Ah yes.  YouTube.  Of course he would have seen the video.

The White Suit.  Never fails to make me smile.  I think that should the video for "I Can Hear You" be broadcast somehow on a jumbotron in Cairo, there would no longer be rioting in the streets of Egypt.  Only shining happy people holding hands and gazing with wonder upon the brilliance of the White Suit and Spencer's 'stache-that-melds-into-a-goatee thing.  And listening, of course, to a fabulous song.  OMGoodness, that video is tops!

"That suit," I proclaimed, "is destined for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, you know."

"Man, it may already be there," Isaac returned.  Alright!

So, because it ought to be embedded into as many blog posts as possible, apropos of whatever the writer would like, here is a blast from the killer 1990's past, when Amy still loved Gary, Bubba was in the White House, e-mail was a novelty, and Carolyn totally got her groove on:



There are wee skips throughout this obviously ripped version, but it's still totally worth a look-see.  Enjoy!

Also from Lesson the Second:  Isaac: "Justine, your left-hand fingernails are really burning my ass."
Justine: "Isaac, they're gone!"*

*Not an exact transcript of the "you must trim your left-hand nails" decree.**
**A box of Tim Horton's for the first person who can tell me from what movie that above snippet of dialogue was parodied/paraphrased.

Who Has a Ticket to the Hottest Show in Town?

I do! I do!

Find out how you can, too, at Christmas Changes Everything!

See you there!

Christmas Changes Everything: An Evening with Carolyn Arends. Bob Bennett, and Spencer Capier

Who's lucky?  Well, I am.  But, if you live within any reasonable driving distance of Kent, WA, you are lucky, too!  Because, we are going to have the BEST concert ever at our church, Calvary Chapel South!

December 11, 2010 — be there or be woefully left out of a fantastic evening of joyful, crazy-awesome music!

Add Webinaring To the List

Well, we've recently found out another thing that Carolyn excels at.  Sheesh.  Check out the archive of her "webinar" from August 26, 2010.

Carolyn Arends on Worship

If you were able to participate in the live webcast and asked a question that got answered, do post about it here.  Thanks!

Present With the Lord -- Lawrie Jonat

Most of you probably know by now that Carolyn's dad passed away on Monday, July 12, 2010.  Anyone who has more than a passing acquaintance with the work and art of Carolyn Arends knows how much her family means to her -- and, with her great love and appreciation for them shining through in all that she does, she has been able to make them mean quite a lot to us as well.  It was a sad week at Barnabas; but, ultimately, an edifying one.  For, because we live with this great hope that bodily death is not an end, but a beginning; that God is not the God of the dead, but of the living; that to be absent from this body is to be present with the Lord; the week at Barnabas was a time of reaffirmation, of rededication, of renewed faith in that great hope.   

Here is the obituary from the Vancouver Sun:

JONAT, Lawrence (Lawrie) August 5, 1941 - July 12, 2010 Lawrie passed away peacefully after a determined and incredibly brave fight against P.S.P. He will be greatly missed by his family: Loving wife Joy, daughter Carolyn (Mark Arends), sons Christopher (Rachel) and Cameron (Angela), and grandchildren Benjamin, Bethany, Jaxon, Walker, Phoenix, and Henry. He will also be missed by his brother Terry (Gail), brother-in-law Doug Holcombe (Diane), nephew Lee and nieces Cindy and Kim. Lawrie was a career banker for The Bank of Montreal. After an early retirement, Lawrie and Joy bought an ABC Restaurant which they loved running. Lawrie was very concerned for the disadvantaged, and co-founded The Victim Assistance Organization in New Westminster, The Affordable Housing Society, which provides subsidized housing for thousands of people, and the John Davies Manor. He served on many other boards, was very involved with the Baptist General Conference, and was a church leader at Blue Mountain Baptist for many years. He was also a very accomplished pianist and organist. A memorial service will be held Monday, July 19, AT 2:00 p.m. at Blue Mountain Baptist Church, 450 Blue Mountain Road (at Austin) in Coquitlam. Donations to Blue Mountain Baptist Church or BGC Foundation will be greatly appreciated.

Sign the guestbook here.

If you live in Canada, you can mail a donation to Blue Mountain Baptist Church at the following address:

Blue Mountain Baptist Church
450 Blue Mountain Street
Coquitlam, BC V3K 4K5

(I'm not sure if mailing a check drawn on U.S. funds would be more of a blessing or a curse to BMBC, so I chose the second option, detailed below.)

If you live in the States or in Canada, you can make an online donation to the Baptist General Conference Foundation at this website: Canada Helps.  The link will take you to the BGC Foundation page.

I was lucky enough to have met Carolyn's dad a couple times at concerts.  I can think of no greater tribute to pay to him than to quote from his daughter's liner notes on the album We've Been Waiting For You:  "Dad, thanks for fathering me in such a way that when God was introduced to me as a Heavenly Father, I knew instinctively that He must be a very loving God indeed."  No father could really wish for more.

Please keep the Jonats in your prayers, including her whose name used to be Jonat.  Please pray especially for Carolyn's beautiful, amazing mom, Joy, who has had to say a temporary goodbye to her love.  Remember Carolyn's brothers as well and all the grandkids.  Read, if you can, the chapter from Living the Questions (now Wrestling With Angels) entitled "The Bargain (The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth)" in remembrance of Lawrie.  It's always been Jason's favorite chapter from the book.

May his memory be a blessing to all who knew him in this life; and may we meet him with joy in the next.

A Weekend in Kent (WA, that is)

I think the key to having Carolyn and Spencer at your church (or other venue) is to employ some wiles and invest some cash. First, buy her music for every influential person or decision maker at the venue. Second, wait; let the songs seep in. Third, pray. After they are thoroughly hooked, your fourth step is to approach them all casual-like and mention that (as though it had just occurred to you and wasn't your objective from day one), "Hey, wouldn't it be great to try to get Carolyn and her accompanist Spencer here for a concert?" They will surely demure at first, but that is OK. Fifth, pray some more. Repeat steps 3 through 5 as often as needed, and surely it will come to pass. Then, if you do not mind being really persistent to the point of obnoxious, repeat the process with every new CD, every chance you get. Ta-da!

I was so very, very blessed that the first album I threw out there to the pastors and their families at our church, Calvary Chapel South, fell on good soil immediately and has yielded thirty, sixty, even one hundredfold. Wendy Martin is definitely a kindred spirit. She really ought to blog here at Carolyn Arends 202. She is the Women's Ministry leader at our church, and when I sent out postcards to all the pastors, elders, and administrators this past summer -- just a friendly little hello to let them know that a new album was in the works and, "Hey, wouldn't it be great to try to get Carolyn and Spencer here (again) for a concert?" -- she gladly took up the torch and convinced the rest of leadership team that Carolyn would be a perfect fit for the upcoming Women's Fall Retreat. Go, Wendy, go!

And, this past weekend, we had the Women's Fall Retreat led by Carolyn Arends as well as a concert Saturday night with her and Spencer Capier, and even -- poor lady! -- worship Sunday morning. Our cups ranneth way, way over. And I am speaking for every woman in attendance at the retreat and every person at the concert and in church. More people than I can count came up to me -- I was just standing there, looking stupid -- and said, "Oh my goodness, she is amazing! Those songs . . . That music . . . And that Spencer . . . wow! This was exactly what I needed to hear . . . Thank you, thank you for bringing her here . . ." And I would say, "I'm so glad, but thank Wendy and the other women who work in the ministry, it was all their doing. I was just the poke."

The retreat topic was "Resting in God . . . Yeah, Right!" If you are looking for a great retreat topic and speaker for your own church, I highly recommend bringing in Carolyn to speak about this. It is especially good for women, because -- well -- we take on a lot in our homes, our kids' schools, our churches, and our work, and we're tired, yet restless. We need to remember that pursuing God fills our minds and spirits with that surpassing peace and that restoring rest; and pursuing Him means little more than being still long enough for Him to capture and captivate us. So, of course we heard the new songs "Be Still" and "Roll It" (with the funky Calvary Chapel soul chorus), as well as the favorites "In Good Hands" and "Who You Are." Did we hear some others? Maybe, but I forgot to write them down. When Carolyn is playing music, all else tends to fade away, and I am in the moment.

The concert that evening was a special, intimate time. It was raining like crazy outside in our flood plain, which you wouldn't think would faze folks in the PNW, but the Calvary Kent chickens cowered in their coops. Pooh to them. What was left were the hardcore fans -- about 75% of the audience, Wendy estimated, were non-Calvary Chapel South folks -- which led to an almost Rocky Horror Picture Show concert. OK, it was far more classy than that association would imply. I just mean that the room was filled with people who could probably recite the jokes along with Carolyn (you know what I mean, the bouzouki joke and the $5 Valentine story to name two -- still funny, even after the twentieth telling, mind you) and had no hesitation whatsoever in shouting out requests and singing along. Pretty darn cool! And since these were the groupies (ah, I finally found my social set!), their song requests were not only the usual "Seize the Day" and "Reaching" -- though, those were requested. Someone yelled out "Fragile" and another piped up with "Free" and someone toward the front called "In Good Hands." Luckily, someone else requested "Something Out of Us" and Carolyn and Spencer hurriedly worked out a smashing live version that only made you miss the trumpet a wee bit. It was a fun night, and we were so blessed. Carolyn encored with the brand new "Never Say Goodbye" which works so well as a benediction song. Lovely, just lovely.

I confess that I missed the worship songs for the most part the next morning. Not because I was not there -- I was out in the hallway, pitching the goods, making the sales at the product table. I know for certain that she sang "Seize the Day" and "Willing" and "I've Got a Hope." There was also a regular worship song, but I do not remember which one. After church, there was lunch with the Carolyn and Spencer. I need not go on and on about how awesome of an experience it is to break bread with two such amazing artists. I mean, who gets to share a meal with their favorite musicians? Imagine if Guillaume de Machaut just came to town and you took him to Outback . . . or taking tea with Gilbert and Sullivan . . . or having a snack and sing-along with ol' Wolfie Mozart . . . or just getting to know as a person [insert your favorite artist here -- which, if you're here, may very well be Carolyn Arends anyway, in which event, you may just already know what I'm talking about, so I'll stop]. And, even though we know that FFTB, it is still a sweet and gracious thing to have postponed their journey home a bit to lunch with us*, though they must have been exhausted.

And that was the end of the weekend. How long until I can start campaigning for another go? Two, maybe three, months? :-)

*"Us" included me, Wendy and John Martin, and a cool guy named Gary who came to our church just to see them. He not only sponsored at his old church two different Carolyn/Cap concerts in West Seattle (to which, as it turns out, I had gone both times), but he is a musician himself (so he has that whole other level of Carolyn-appreciation that MarkD and other musicians get to have -- lucky ducks!), and one of his favorite songs is "Do We Dare" which sealed the deal of my approbation of him.