Back to the Heart of Christmas

I hear myself singing a familiar song, in the middle of the night, in my dreams. I'm singing the lyrics to the popular song, "Have a holly jolly Christmas..." but you wouldn't recognize it because the melody is different than the one you're used to. In my dream, I've turned the happy melody into something more melancholy.

I feel as if that's kind of become my brand in my "awake" life—my unwanted brand. I take happy things and make them sad. Or at least point out the sad. I guess it makes sense to do it in my dreams too.

I suddenly wake up, the melody and lyrics fresh on my mind. Was I really dreaming? I get up to write down my ideas. It's rather unusual for me to be singing in my dreams. Maybe this is something special so I better pay attention.

I usually go to the piano when I hear a melody and lyric, but since my piano is next door in my studio and it's the middle of the night, I dig through the drawer looking for a piece of paper. 

I scribble my ideas on a piece of paper, drawing little lines that go up and down across the page representing the melody so that I'll remember it in the morning. As it turns out, when I revisit the idea, it's the harmony I have actually noted. 

I start to finish the song a few days after the dream...(at least I thought I finished it) Here's one of the early drafts:

Have a holly jolly Christmas

you can hear the music play

but as time goes on, on and on 

Christmas doesn't look the same each year

I go wandering 'round in a circular world 

that doesn't know where to end

in the midst of the lights

twinkling bright

where do you belong, Jesus?

Show me the way back to the heart of Christmas

help me to see all that you meant it to be

I want to see you

I want to know you better

show me the way, show me the way to You

All the family now is gathered

they have come from far and near

but the pain inside cannot hide

Christmas has its disappointing times

in the back of our minds

mem'ries there to remind

things are not as you wish

and in the midst of the tears

shed through the years, you wonder

where do I belong, Jesus? (Chorus)

Bridge:

Christmas is meant to be joyful

Christmas is meant to bring peace

but just like the story of so long ago

where things don't turn out just right

Children lose their lives

royal men still lie

and families run for their life (A husband baby and wife)

still this prayer I offer you tonight

Show me the way....

I take this song to my manager (as well as many other Christmas songs I am writing) and his critique is consistent with what I've heard before. "Even your funny songs have an intensity to them," he says, in reference to a non-holiday song I wrote called "Personalities." Sigh. 

I've asked for constructive critique because I want to improve as a songwriter. So now I have to receive it, right? 

I thought you might enjoy seeing my notes I wrote after he listened to that early draft of Back to the Heart of Christmas.

I love the part where he asks, "Who's the kids getting killed?"

Or the part where he says the bridge is too l long and introduces a whole new line of thought. I see what he means once he points it out. A bridge should simply carry us from one thought to another without building a whole new road. It should take us over the water, not muddy it. 

In the broader story of the Nativity, other babies died, a King lied and the parents of Jesus had to run for their lives. So in this case, I felt the bridge in the song could help remind us all that life isn't perfect, especially at Christmas. Sad is mixed in with happy. Just like parts of the broader Christmas story. But in my desire to "set the world straight" I tend to try to say too much. 

I've had to learn to stay focused on the one thing the song is about and not try to solve all the problems of life in just three minutes. 

It took me decades to understand my own yearning for perfect holidays. To discover that much of it was tied to the fact that we didn't have perfect holidays as a family. We were not a complete unit. We had lost people along the way and it was extra hard at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Just as my disheartened soul went through some healing and mindset shifts about the holidays, coupled with a better self-awareness of why I struggled with the holidays, the song also evolved. I changed the verses and I wrote a much simpler bridge...

Help me to be like a child at heart

open my life to your love

setting aside the distractions of life

that keep me from the greatest gift of all

Of course, in my case, the distractions were grief and loneliness. They come in all shapes and sizes.

I started sharing the song (the re-written version) with audiences at Christmas events. Many times people would ask if I had a recording of that song. I knew that was a good sign. 

All of these years later, after putting it on the album and keeping it in the annual show and doing it over and over, I still feel the magic every time I sing it. The chorus lyrics were never changed from the original lyrics probably because they said all that I really wanted to say from the beginning.

 

 This week's video.

Lions, Tigers and Uh Ohs...

I knew that I'd face some extra challenges this year when I sat down to plan Portraits of White because of COVID 19.  I was hoping that by December the pandemic would be a thing of the past. As we all know, it's not. 

So in addition to the regular lions, tigers and bears I usually encounter as we get close to the show, I've had to face a new monster this year. 

I decided to approach it with a little bit of humor...

This week's video:

Do You Get Paid?

 "Do you make enough from Portraits of White to pay yourself?" Another great question from a fan.

The simple answer is not yet, but I hope to. 

But there's always more to the story than just a simple answer, right? 

When I first started Portraits of White, I was doing 50 - 100 events per year, working at a church part time and writing/recording albums. I had to be organized and make good use of every moment I had. I suppose it was good preparation for starting a big Christmas event.

Portraits of White took my music career on a path filled with higher mountains, lower valleys, roller coaster twists and horseshoe turns emotionally and financially. It challenged my faith, musicianship, tenacity and endurance. I've learned a lot about myself, show production, business, marketing, and realistic goal setting, for starters.

But why not just tell you more about it in this week's video?

Do you have your tickets to the show yet? If not, visit PortraitsofWhite.com here.

More Religious?

What makes you feel like something is religious? Is it something you feel, see, taste or refrain from tasting? Is it something you wear? 

When you feel like you've had a religious experience, what were your surroundings? Nature? Cement?  People? Music? Silence?

You must be wondering where I'm going with this. This week's Portraits of White fan question was very thought-provoking. I've been chewing on it all summer.  

"Do you ever consider making Portraits of White more religious?"

I remember the first time I experienced someone who was obviously NOT religious—at least, not in the way I was raised.

I am 20 years old and I am working at Domino's Pizza as a delivery driver in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, just outside the city of Tulsa. I am attending a two year Bible School program and need a job to help support myself for the next two years. 

It's a fun job! In the winter, I do donuts in the parking lot in my little blue Mazda, when it snows. I eat plenty of great pizza—between deliveries, of course. I probably won't stay at this job for long because it just doesn't make sense (or cents) with the wear and tear on my car. But it's all I can find for now. Not only will I learn the geography of Broken Arrow, I'm' about to be introduced to the "world."

My boss's language was, well...let's just say it was quite colorful. Though the words that I heard coming out of his mouth shocked me, I could tell that it was more than just his words that were different. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I remember thinking to myself, "I thought you could tell if someone was religious by what they are wearing, but now I think I see that there's more to it than just what you can see about someone."

I had been raised in a very sheltered atmosphere at home, church and school. I was never aloud to say filler words like, "rats" or "darn."  It just wasn't proper or godly. I tried saying "rats" a few times, but my mother always scolded me. I didn't like rats anyway, so it was no big deal to stop using the word.

As I grew into womanhood, I made sure I "looked" the part of being a religious person because it was easy to meet the standards. I knew clearly where the lines were. Well, mostly. I was never sure how long the dress should be, or whether I should wear my hair up or down. I just wanted to be perfect and loved. We certainly didn't accessorize, though for some reason, a simple decorative pin might be ok from time to time. I didn't really question the standards. I did what was recommended. I even tried to do above and beyond the expectations, just to be sure.

I certainly tried to make sure my heart was good too. It took me a long time to understand that there is so much more to living a God-life than the things you can see, taste, wear or say. In fact, some of the toughest times in my adult years came from conversations with my mother. She saw the world in black and white and sometimes I wanted to add some color—to my lips and my eyes. I liked fancy outfits and hair. 

In Oklahoma, I began to understand that I viewed God in black and white. It makes sense since that's how I grew up. But, He was rather hard to please, in my opinion. I couldn't have said this specifically back then because I was very busy and studious about trying to be perfect. I had always tried be perfect for Him, so He would love me. 

It's taken me years to untangle myself from some of that thinking and to understand who God really is. I don't have Him figured out yet and I'm old enough to know now that I never will. So I try to live with a much more open hand and heart, extending grace and compassion to others. I even wish I could meet my first "worldly" boss from Domino's. I'd like a chance to understand his journey and what was really going on inside his heart, beyond his words. Instead of such quick deduction about him, I wish I could have taken the time to actually get to know him.

So back to Portraits of White. What would make it "feel" like a more religious program? Do I ever consider making it more religious? I just don't know what "more religious" would look like. 

I write songs about my life. Snow. Sleigh rides. Miracles. God. Christmas. Loneliness. Death. I honestly don't know how to compartmentalize my life. It's all mixed into one big pot. All I know to do is offer up what is currently going on in my heart and life each year. I start with a blank page at the beginning of the planning stage and start writing according to what I sense I want to do in my heart. Everything I say, sing and write is an overflow of my heart. 

So you're likely going to hear some sad songs and happy songs. You'll probably laugh a little and might even cry. I want you to walk away feeling alive and inspired. I want you to know that some of the feelings you might experience during the holidays are normal and you're not alone. 

I prefer to offer my gift and my heart to you. If you walk away feeling as if you've had a religious experience, I would be thrilled. But only you can know what that means for you.

This week's video.

Ding Dong the Show is On!

Announcing Portraits of White 2021!