Grant

The irony is that my last post was about remembering and how important it was to me because of the friends I've lost along the way. It's always the good ones isn't it. Only the good die young, or something like that. I am all cried out so I'm going to save my reflections for another time- but all that to say- my precious friend Grant passed away last night. He went home to be with Jesus as Matt so confidently explains, and it's times like these that I am so grateful for that confidence.

Grant is the funniest, most irreverant, kindest most geniune person I know. Grant became a Christian in our small group and was baptized with our daughter Sydney. Grant was a fixture in our home, our lives, our hearts. He will be more that missed. The world is duller, more predictable, not nearly as interesting without him in it.

Good stuff

We had a wonderful Easter and a wonderful Lent really. I just love Lent. I love Advent too. I love the anticipation that something remarkable is going to happen. It's almost better than the actual day in my book. I am the kind of person who will receive a gift and leave it wrapped and unopened for days just so I can drag out the excitement and anticipation a little longer.

The thing about Easter is that Easter is every day. Every day He is Risen. Everyday We are set free. We are made whole. We get a do over. But it's not everyday that we remember.

"Do this in remembrance of me" is what we hear said before we take communion. That simple statement gets me every time. The humility of it. Before I became a believer I lost a few people. I used to say "it's just that I know a lot of people who happen to be dead." Young people. Friends. People who should be alive and well, getting married, having kids, living. So remembering is important to me. Always has been. I remember my friends who are gone and in remembering them I relive the joy they brought me.

He was fully God and fully human, and knowing our propensity to forget, He said "Do this in remembrance of me." Whatever it is you need to do. Sit quietly and remember. Sing loudly and remember. Laugh, cry, shout, whisper. Do what you need to do, but never forget.

So chocolate bunnies or not, everyday is Easter if we remember and accept the invitation to believe. Believe-if you are a Jew- like me- the entire history of our people makes perfect sense, and that the Passover has truly passed us over and if we choose to believe we are spotless in the eyes of God- not because of how good we are or how well we do but because God himself paid our tab out of simple love. If you are a Gentile you can simply choose, no birthright needed, no family tree- just a little faith.

That's all. Here's some pictures from Easter.


Love y'all, Cameron

Life of Christ

Friends,



Thursday and Friday of this week are the two soberest days in the Christian calendar.




Thursday marks the day Jesus sweat blood in the Garden of Gethsemane and was arrested, and Friday the day he was crucified. Without those two events the empty tomb couldn’t have happened. The empty tomb is our hope- that Death itself was defeated and all of humanity has access to live life without fear-- in the knowledge that we are covered by Grace and transformed through Faith.



This Thursday and Friday night our Grace worship band will perform The Life of Christ- an hour long candlelight service featuring classic hymns, the music of Patty Griffin, Brooke Fraser and Robbie Seay, video worship by Brian Mann and The Work of The People, scriptures, and testimonies of healing from Terry and Kimberly Richter. Senior Pastor Doug Ferguson will offer a brief reflection and we will take communion together.



Together, we will tell the greatest story ever told-- the Life of Christ.



Please join us. Bring a friend. This will be a powerful and passionate hour of worship.





Maundy Thursday, April 9 @ 7pm



Good Friday, April 10th @ 6pm





Founder’s Chapel @ Grace Presbyterian Church

10221 Ella Lee Lane (corner of Westheimer and Beltway 8)

Houston 77042

713.781.7615

www.houstonsgrace.org/easterconcerts







Every Blessing,



Cameron

Wanna be a record producer?

So here's what I am thinking...with your help we can make a beautiful record. But we can only do it with your help.


We need to raise some money --- not nearly the total budget. A good chunk of it is accounted for -hallelujah- but $6500 is the balance we need to come up with. I thought it was $5500 but that didn't include album artwork. Of course if any of you talented folks wanted to donate that..that'd be cool?

Here's what I am thinking:

$5- Coffee Making Volunteer Level: get's you a sticker that says "I support good music" and a hug...

$15- Youth Intern Level: get's you a hug (or two)and a free download once the record's done

$50- I'm in Seminary Level: get's you a hug, a t-shirt with the album art that says "Co-producer" on the back, and a free download

$100- I'm with the Church Band Level: get's you all of the above and a lifetime backstage pass to all matt&cameron events (hee hee just kidding, that would be boring)- get's you all of the above, a thank you and picture in the liner notes, a t shirt and a big hug or two.

$500- Front row pew Level: gets you Naming rights to our next child? Your own theme song? Seriously, how about a free live performance at your house (or wherever)and all of the above...(you could even charge admission and make your money back.)

$1000- Rock Star for Jesus Level: Get's you all of the above and the ability to sing on the record! Yes! That's right. You. Us. Making music. How cool is that.

Ok, I have to admit I am stealing all these ideas from Jill Sobule, but they are good ones. And I've always liked Jill Sobule. I digress...

I know the economy sucks, (hello- Matt got laid off in September)but does that mean we should shelve our hopes and dreams? I think not!

Here's the backstory:
It's a record. Matt & Cameron & friends (Robbie Seay is producing, Brian Mann is arranging and co-writing some and the lot of them will be making general magic of our music.)

It's called "Born to Us" which is the name of the song that Matt and I wrote together a few months after Sydney was born. It's the first of many Christmas songs that I've written since she came into the world- I've almost exclusively written Christmas songs since then.

Here's why- I think: I've been thinking about how human it all was- a teenage Mary, a barn, a helpful though thoroughly freaked out Joseph. How every detail of God's story is designed to resonate with us through our own very human experiences. These songs tell that story and God's told us to tell it.


Let's get started! Go to PayPal

To: olivettemusic@gmail.com
From: You!

And the rest should be pretty easy! Start warming up your voices...

not a chicken sandwich

I am thinking about starting another blog about church communications and calling it "not a chicken sandwich. blogspot.com" or something of the sort. I imagine I will use it to vent all my "church marketing sucks" impressions and irritations as well as ideas I think are brilliant and innovative. I am wondering if you- dear friends- have any interest in such things and also what you think of me launching an entirely separate blog from this one. I have been remiss at posting here and I fear I will lose you entirely if I stray...but...I also think there's a time and a place for my "teenage diary" moments and a very different time and place for thoughts on church communications- which as some of you know- is part of my new job title at Grace Pres.

Primarily- the very idea of 'church marketing' is absurd and irritating in the sort of way that just rubs you wrong. Am I right? Marketing is for chicken sandwiches. Communicating is how we share the gospel. It's how we share how our lives have been transformed by God. So even when we are making fliers for an older adults tea party or launching a technologically innovative web site- we are communicating the gospel to the outside world. And sometimes we do that very poorly. We do it poorly when we forget the great commandment, to go and make disciples (note- disciples, not converts), and begin to the think of the church as our own private country club- here to serve our unique needs in a way that best suits us. But "the choir" is not who we are interested in preaching too if we are following Jesus. It's those "outsiders", the ones on the fence, the mom who drops off her children at VBS and wonders for a moment what our church might have for her; these are the people we need to reach with the gospel before it's too late.

One thing I miss about the charismatic church is the viewpoint that we are living in the last days. It's not something us pragmatic Presbyterians like to dwell on. And rightly so. If we know our bibles, and Presbyterians do, we know that neither the day nor hour of the Lord's returning will be known to us. Like a thief in the night, He'll come. We just need to be ready.

But I believe he will have some tough questions for us: Did we share our stories of healing, grace and redemption in ways that were easily understood by non believers and comprehended, or did we lace our speech with "Christianese" because it was easier? Did we confidently use our gifts to advance the Kingdom or did we wait for someone to tell us to? Did we create an 'insider world' with our print, video and website or did we create multimedia invitations into the Kingdom and the life of our church?

We are not a chicken sandwich. We are the bride of Christ. Believe it!

I say this all mostly for myself. I am an external processor. I guess what I want to say is that those of us in ministry must unapologetically use technology, media and creativity to advance the gospel in a way that is relevant, and let God do the rest.

teenage diary

Before there were blogs, there were journals, before there were journals there were diaries. The kind with tiny little locks on them and pink swirly pictures of princesses or flowers or something. Gossip is recorded, crushes, disappointments and dreams. For me this is where I wrote the phrases that later became part of my poems and then later my songs. But I don't write in a journal anymore. I twitter. I facebook. I blog. I don't write anything that isn't shared with some sort of audience. It's a shame really. The idea that everything one says is interesting enough or ready to be read by others. As an artist of any kind this should strike fear in my heart. Ideas shouldn't be shared until they are worked over, seasoned, marinated and cooked on high until ready to serve. Alot of the time they turn out crappy and no one ever sees or hears them. Or at least that's how it should go. But sometimes the scraps provide the bridge or the chorus for another piece that's missing something. This process is completely non existent in my life because the crappy, cheesy thoughts or phrases never get a chance. They die on the vine. I am mixing methaphors like nobodies business. See my point? You didn't really need to read that.

All that to say, I am going to go out and buy something with paper in it that requires a pen or pencil and privacy. I am determined. I need somewhere to go for ideas- half baked as they may be. Somewhere to put the phrases that aren't ready to be read yet. Maybe they never will be. Nonetheless.

I had a bit of a fit, a breakdown sort of - when I first moved to Texas and just after Matt and I were married. I felt cut off, disconnected, a stranger in a strange land where everybody was nice but I couldn't tell if anybody really liked me. One night I decided to find the manila folders containing all the poetry I wrote in highschool and college. I was a creative writing major in college so there was a lot of material there. I found myself in the midst of piles and piles of papers and half empty boxes, in the middle of the living room floor in this strange place- clutching these things as if it say "I exist." "I am real." "Here is the proof."
There were alot of cheesy phrases. I kept all the scratch paper where these poems began so I could see how they evolved. Those folders are precious to me. I need to go dig them out of the garage again.

Playground

Remember the way it felt to run and run and run on the playground as a kid and your lungs would burn and feel like bursting and you'd collapse with your friends giggling... in a pile like puppies?

Chasing Sydney for the 120th time around the tiny little school playground I remembered that and it was a sweet memory. I grew up in a really beautiful place. For all the emotional scaring it caused it was still beautiful, green, lush, manicured. Magical even.

Well that's that. We are making a Christmas album with the amazingly talented Robbie Seay producing. A dream come true for me. So great for me and Matt. A husband who can produce his wife's records is a rare and patient man. That man- Matt- will get a break and be the artist this time. Well deserved. We wrote a song on Monday, on our Valentines-President's Day- Day Off day. The verses are taken from/ inspired by a Polish carol called "Amid the Silence". It's taken from a musical thing I've been playing on the guitar for 10 years but cleaned up and tightened up and made into a song and not just a musical thing. Mostly cause Matt figured out how to make it rock.


More later. Night, night.

Cameron