A subtitle of my 2018 holiday album Somethin' Special indicated that its songs were a recollection. In the liner notes I wrote, “A recollection can be a distant memory— suddenly recalled—or in this instance, a gathering of childhood stories, unique to the holidays. Some are highly personal, some are musical remembrances of Christmases in concert with Peter, Paul and Mary, but most of the songs reflect an evolving appreciation of the expression and the reason for the holiday: the birth of Christ.”
The title song was itself a memory from my childhood in Dorsey, Maryland—a memory of the creative way my parents made gift-giving an adventure. And now, as a parent myself, I also am aware of the probable dialogue that went on between my mother and father as they looked out the window watching their son Noel playing out on the lawn after unwrapping presents on Christmas day.
“Shouldn’t we tell him . . . at least offer a hint?” my mom would have said, standing next to the fully-lit tree in the living room that had an undiscovered gift tag with my name on it, hanging on one of its branches. “Let’s give him until lunch,” my dad would have answered, ”and then we’ll mention that there might still be one more gift ‘near the tree’ that has been overlooked.”
Ironically, their sense of patience and faith was probably being personally tested at that moment as well. In retrospect, what my parents have given me has multiple layers. Lessons of patience and faith are continual ones, and I see how our heart becomes the metaphorical organ that responds to Love’s call or inspiration.
Connections
As you may have noticed, the illustration of the quilt above that was used as the cover of the Somethin’ Special album is being presented here in raw form with the pieces laid out but not yet stitched. A resident of Maine since the late 80’s, Nora Flanagan designed the quilt, and a showcase of her amazing quilting work can be seen online here.
Vibrations
See the “Somethin’ Special” video here:
And the actual recording session here in 360 degree viewing. Just mouseclick on the video as it’s playing and move it to the left or right to see all of the musicians gathered in a circle at John Stuart’s recording studio in Gorham, Maine.
Resonance
Love (with a capital L) doesn’t predetermine our lives and actions or coerce us into doing certain things. In his book Open and Relational Theology: An Introduction to Life-Changing Ideas, J. Thomas Oord writes that “God empowers but doesn’t overpower” and “invites rather than forces.” Authors and poets (and songwriters) often substitute words for what Love does—verbs like “call,” “inspire,” “lure,” “suggest,” and sometimes even “persuade.”
What does your experience tell you about the use of these verbs that describe Love’s actions?
Oh! And that’s just the drop in the bucket stuff I notice!
I found a Love that Creates and Creates and CREATES awe, diversity, wonder, questions, hope, joy, and ultimately welcome home.