Cows, Raggedy Ann and Broken Legs.

This week's portion of my mother's life story reflects the joy she had with her new husband and her growing family. I love reading this part of her story. I wasn't around yet for most of this, but my family talked about it so much that I feel like I was there in some small way—if only as an observer, like a foster child trying to fit in to a family unit already in motion. Their story became part of my story too.

Bertha's story continues:

"Orville divided his time between teaching Chemistry part time at Messiah College and working the farm. Life there was rich with gardening, animals, beekeeping, and cycles of the seasons. In the winter we went tobogganing, ice skating on the pond and cut down our own Christmas trees from the woods.

We had food from our own garden, we had our own meat from the beef and chickens we raised; I baked our bread and our one Jersey cow gave us milk and cream from which we made butter and ice cream every week."

Frances here: (This could very well be where I learned the habit of eating ice cream at least once a week...I needed this evidence to convince my husband, Tom, that it's in my "blood" to crave ice cream weekly. When we go for motorcycle rides in the summer evenings, it's hard for me to not beg for a treat...which always means ice cream!)

My father milking our jersey cow; Doug (left), Adriel (middle), Brenda (right).

"Sewing many of our own clothes was very satisfying to me; I said to Orville one time, "I feel like I'm really living when I'm sewing!"   One year, I even managed to create Halloween costumes—Adriel's was a burlap-bag bear, and Brenda (Aspen) was a Raggedy Ann. They both won prizes in the school costume contest."

"One time, we were boarding a horse for someone, and our 7-year old Brenda had been guarding the special food for the visiting horse from a cow who was intent on eating it. When the cow wouldn't shoo away, Brenda kicked it in the hindquarters, and the cow kicked her back. Orville heard the screaming and found Brenda flat on her back, picked her up and carried her to the house.

She of course, was crying and screaming in pain, and her leg was dangling in such a way that it was obvious to me that a bone had been broken. And I exclaimed, "Why, her leg is BROKEN!" And Orville looked at me and said "SHHHH!" as if we could keep it a secret—don't let HER know that!
Even in the midst of it, though this was not fun for Brenda, I had a moment of great laughter because of how ridiculous it was to me that Orville thought he could keep it a secret from Brenda. It makes me laugh out loud, still, to think of it."

Brenda (Aspen) with Woody, her school bus driver, first day of school (1965).

"But the next story I want to tell regarding God preparing my heart prior to a tragedy, is......."

Frances here:

This is the part where my life begins to intersect with the little family already in place on Willow Springs Farm. Their world was about to be turned upside down.

The Showstoppers

The conductor (Ed Kee) predicted it would be THE showstopper of the evening. I took his word for it, but since I have never experienced being part of a showstopper, I had no idea what that really meant.

Portraits of White Winter Concert, December 12, 2015.

The problem is, there was more than one showstopper on December 12, 2015. The other showstoppers that night were unplanned and unwanted.....at least at first.

In Steven Pressfield's book "The War of Art", he believes that any time we step out to do something daring, we will encounter resistance. Based on my experience, I tend to agree.

The "other" showstoppers started when three of my team members from Nashville, TN were delayed in arriving for the rehearsal due to mechanical issues on their planes. Though they came on different planes, they all experienced mechanical issues.  That seems odd.

* The guitar player's main piece of gear was damaged beyond use by the airlines.

* The live music producer somehow got food poisoning and he never did make it to the rehearsal.

That was only the beginning of the potential showstoppers.

* The night of the concert, one of the orchestra players was delayed due to traffic jams caused by accidents on the roadways.  We waited to begin until he rushed on to the stage and found his seat in the orchestra.

Finally, the venue was full, the lights faded into concert mode and we were off.  Twelve months of planning was about to pay off and I had my hands open, ready to receive the fulfillment of dreaming and working hard. In two hours it would all be over.

The next un-welcomed "showstopper" came right in the middle of the very first song of the concert when I suddenly noticed that my mic went dead and the music seemed harder to hear.  I kept going, thinking that whatever was wrong would be fixed. But next thing I knew, the whole orchestra began a descent into silence - not a beautiful decrescendo - more like a stuttering, choking car going over a cliff.

We paused for a moment until my sarcastic wit kicked into gear. "Goodnight, thank you for coming - it's been great having you here," I said.

What's a girl to do when the players quit playing?

Honestly, so much of it is a blur now that I can't remember exactly what I said.  I do know that the crowd laughed in response to my wit and I knew no matter what happened the rest of the evening, we would have a great show! They were with me. No showstopper could stop that. 

Suddenly, we were up and running and the rest of the first half went off without any trouble.

Fun Moments

Jeffrey Wohlbach teaches me how to do a horse whinny.

Well...maybe not!

Holy Moments

Tim Spirk joins me on "He Was Holy".

Musical Moments......

The second half of the evening started off with the wintery thematic title song, "Portraits of White". 

Heidi Ryan, Amy Harlacher and Holly Holbrook join Frances on "Portraits of White".

A beautiful jazz arrangement of "Angels We Have Heard on High" featured Doug Cook and Jeffrey Wohlbach and we weren't disappointed.

Doug Cook (alto sax), Jeffrey Wohlbach (trumpet).

"What If" was a perfect set up for the "planned" showstopper of the evening.  With a haunting synth sound, minor chords on the piano and thought-provoking lyric, this song always seems to create a holy hush in the room.

Wayne Fox (Buzz Jones Big Band) accompanies me on "What If".

For nine months, I knew what we were planning to do next and I could hardly wait for the audience to experience the moment.  The West Shore Drum Line was eagerly waiting to come in from the back of Parmer Hall, down the aisles and make their way up on to the stage, joining me for the final verses of "Little Drummer Boy".  

The tones and keys of "What If" and "Little Drummer Boy" match perfectly, creating a perfect segue and that's exactly what we planned.  No pause between songs, just one continuous ominous atmosphere. We finished "What If" and I waited patiently in anticipation for what was to come next.  

It had gone off without a hitch in rehearsal and I knew the audience would love what we had planned. It got so quiet in the room that I think you could have heard a pin drop.  

We waited.....and waited......

Apparently, when the sound system "quit" in the first song of the night, a breaker had blown. Once the problem was identified, we were off and running and I never thought another thing about the snafu. But one technical problem seems to lead to another and we lost the equipment we needed (without knowing it) to pull off "Little Drummer Boy".  

(It's not supposed to take this long to start???  Why aren't we hearing anything? What's wrong?) These were all the things going on in my head as I stood there in perfect peace - on the outside and frankly, thanks to a great team, on the inside too.

It finally occurred to me that though the sound company and venue are in charge of making sure the technical side of everything is working well, it is still my job, in the end, to make sure all my guests are comfortable and at home during the concert.  As soon as I came to my senses and realized there was a problem, I went into hostess mode.  

First, I went to find out what was going on so I could address the crowd appropriately and prepare for plan B if necessary. The breaker that blew in the beginning had indeed wrecked our equipment for this special feature and was creating a new showstopper of its own.

Within those long, what could have been uncomfortable moments, emerged a beautiful moment of its own.  We began to sing "Silent Night" together.  I just picked a note and started singing.  The pianist found the note to match me and began to play, followed by Tom Hemby on guitar.  

Between each verse I would stop to check in with the sound team and when no progress was made, we'd sing another verse.  It was a dance between holy awe and light-hearted laughter as we waited for what would come next and I was in charge of the dance whether I liked it or not. 

By the third verse, I asked the musicians to stop playing and allow the south central PA audience to sing a cappella and it was beautiful.  I began to realize that we had gone from a moment of "what shall we do now?" to a beautiful time of peace and I embraced it.  

Then the guitar player began to play the most unusual arrangement of "Silent Night" I've ever heard.  He said he didn't really feel like he was the one playing. In fact, this is what he told me later, "Honestly, I'm just going to give all that credit to the Holy Spirit... as I started playing it was as if it were someone else and not me."

Tom Hemby (Nashville, TN) on guitar.

We could all feel the power of what was happening. We were all experiencing a much desired silent night in the midst of a very busy season.  

That is at the heart of why I wanted to do a Christmas concert like this in the first place - create a night to come together and laugh, cry, enjoy good music and prepare our hearts for what can be a seasonal roller coaster ride for many people.  I realized it was happening right before my very eyes and I was completely at ease.

When the intended song finally started....and finished, there was such electricity in the room that I will never forget it as long as I have a brain. The only thing more amazing than doing the song after that long unanticipated wait was the response from the audience after the song.  

Normally, you can tell when the applause is slowly fading and it's time to move on to the next thing, but it just didn't quit.  I began to wonder if the applause wasn't just about the song, but also about the victory of overcoming the resistance. It was way more than a showstopper by this point in the evening. It had become a battle cry and we won.  We ALL won.  The audience was eagerly waiting and hoping and it seemed that they felt like they too had overcome. Their patience paid off.

We face so many showstoppers every day and don't even realize it.  Oh sure, there are the obvious ones: terminal illness, unexpected job termination, a sudden accident that rearranges your body and your "normal" life.  But there are little ones too: rejection, doubt, fear, anger.  They might seem small and harmless, but they can blow a breaker and before we know it, we experience bigger problems as a result.  They can be just as serious.

Based on the comments from people after the concert, I may have earned a new title: "Queen of Glitches".  Everyone seems to remember those glitches and how "well I handled them".  I wondered if people remembered anything else about the evening? 

But in hind-sight, I see that I only acted out on stage what I have already learned in life.  You see, life is a series of glitches strung together with some beautiful moments in between. How we handle the glitches, determines the power of the showstoppers intended to shut us down. 

If we respond with anxiety and fear, it will feed the showstopper - but if we handle them with prayer, peace, music and yes, even laughter - we will be able to stand to our feet in victory and raise our voices in a shout, and the show will go on.

Hear from the Drum Line Director and some of the students here.

LOOK, SEE and WATCH!

Portraits of White Winter Concert is filling up fast.  Get your tickets soon.

Go HERE to "like" my Frances Drost Solo Artist music page so you can participate in the contest on Saturday, November 7, 2015 at 9:00 a.m.

Want more info about the concert itself or buy tickets?

See the video HERE.

December 12, 2015
7:00 p.m.
Messiah College
Parmer Hall
The Calvin and Janet High Center For Worship And Performing Arts
Mechanicsburg, PA 

Dream Clues

Dreams were meant to grow up and mature.

Explode with excitement.

Come to fruition.

But they don't all make it to the end or turn out exactly like we first envisioned them.

However, it's in the dreaming, trying and working that we grow and mature, no matter the outcome of the original dream.

I loved putting on shows when I was little.  My family was my audience and the living room was my stage.  I loved playing the piano. It's easy to dream when you are little.

Frances at age 3.

But how do you go from being the little 3 year old with an imagination to actually doing what you always dreamed of doing or even just getting in touch with the dreams you had as a child when life has taken over and controls your time?

Frances at age 48.

Ask yourself these questions and you will discover some clues:

• What causes you to lose all sense of time and fear?  Listen to your heart in those moments.
• What would you do for free just because you love it? Do it so well for free that others pay you to do it.
• Who are you when no one is looking and you are totally unencumbered with doubt and timidity? That's a clue!
• Use every present opportunity to practice at what you dream of doing.

So here I go again - doing another Portraits of White winter concert. A dream in the making. 

Please share it with your friends.

Then come and dream with me.

Buy your tickets here.

The Window of Grief

'Lil Moe was rescued from the side of the road over a month ago and though I found a home for her, I am currently kitten-sitting while her new family is hiking the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee.  We both stare out the window.

I should be working on my christmas concert.  Instead, I'd rather just sit and stare out the window. Truth is, I AM staring out a window - it goes with me everywhere I go.

It's funny how everyday things look different when you view them from the window of grief.  Simple things make you cry.  You brace yourself for those moments but alas they don't happen when you think they should. Then, suddenly, without warning the strangest things bring you to tears and usually at inconvenient times.

I learned what grief feels like when my father died so I am better prepared for this season of my mother's passing and am less concerned about those unexpected 'grief moments'.  In fact, when they come, I try not to fight them.  They are different than the ever-present compression in your chest that makes it hard to breathe.  They come and go.

Today has been full of them.

• A friend invites us to the beach over Thanksgiving......I realize my mother won't be here - it feels cruel to go without her, yet staying home doesn't make sense either
• I arrive on the campus of Messiah College today for a speaking engagement.....Messiah College is rich with family history
• my mother fell in love with her first husband here when she was 14  
• she later returned as a widow to work for the Dean of Students
• she fell in love a second time and met my father here and re-married
• my father was a professor here later when my older brother Nathan drowned in our farm pond (my father had been at Bucknell University that day to look at their new science building as Messiah was considering a new science building too)  
• mother called the college that day to ask them to get a message to Orville saying he should come straight home when he arrived back at the school....(this was before the days of cell phones)..she didn't want him to find out over the phone that Nathan was gone
• today I spoke to Administrative Assistants in the very same room where my mother and I enjoyed a delicious lunch together a few years ago with classmates of her's from the 40's as my father was honored with a scholarship in his name at the college - she enjoyed being with them and hearing stories about Orville from his college days - it was meaningful for both of us - now I am here without her
• as I drove to the college, I tried to rehearse my christmas concert in the van, but the songs only evoked tears - it's going to be interesting to do holiday music when the holidays are such a potent time of year when you've lost your loved one

All this was happening in my heart as I walked the campus and spoke to the diverse group gathered for a special luncheon.  However, there were no tears.  Only the deep compression in my soul.

Last night, there were tears.  We had just finished rehearsing "All To Jesus I Surrender" as a worship team and suddenly, out of nowhere they came.  I think it was the combination of beautiful acoustic guitar and piano bursting into spontaneous praise without any voices and the refreshment of doing an 'old song' that my mother would have loved.

There will be times in the season of grief when you will view everything through the window of losing your loved one. When that happens, open the window wide and let the memories (and tears) pour forth.  It is a healing balm and lets the sunshine back in....even if it takes years.