No egg in this 'face' book today

It took a lot of persuasion for me to join myspace years ago.  A teenage friend of mine finally convinced me that I need to get with the program if I was going to communicate with her generation.  That's all it took.  I joined myspace.  After all, she even offered to set up my page for me.

Later when she told me 'facebook' was the new way to go, though I was a bit frustrated with having to join yet ANOTHER social network to keep up with her, I joined facebook and again, she set up the page for me.  (She's now in her twenties).

I have to say that I have fallen completely head over heels for facebook now.   I love communicating with people in this way.

But recently, I saw a new side to the face of facebook when I posted a link to a blog I wrote about having to take my mother's car away from her.  She's 86 and ready to give up driving, but it was a hard task for me.  (see earlier blog post)

She seems to be doing well with it, so that's not my reason for this blog.

The 'egg farm' from which my mother would go and buy delicious home-laid eggs posted a comment on facebook that they were aware that she was no longer going to be driving because she sent them a note in the mail to tell them she would no longer be able to come buy their eggs.

Another FB friend read the egg-farm comment and offered to pick up eggs from this farm for my now 'grounded' mother and drop them off right at her front door.

I just talked with her yesterday on the phone.  The FB friend had located her home, stopped to visit her and offered in person to pick up and deliver eggs right to her front door.  (They have been a long time family friend, so don't be spooked by this.  It's just that we have reconnected recently thanks to FB).

Those of us who grew up on a farm where we had fresh eggs understand that there's just nothing like fresh, home-laid eggs.

Thanks facebook for providing a way to show random acts of kindness just by a post on the wall.  No eggs in your face today.

"Busted"

I thought it was cool when I was little and missionaries came to our church and told of how they had to live by faith and trust God for every single need they had.  They'd tell of amazing miracles God did in providing for them supernaturally and I wanted to live like them.

That was then.  This is now.

Over a year and a half ago I left my 'day job' to pursue songwriting and performing full time.  It's a vision I had for a long time and was thrilled to see it finally come to pass.  Though it was a big step of faith, I have seen God provide for me and have always been able to not only pay all my bills, but pay them on time.  My bookings have increased and doors continue to open.

Lately however, I've been sensing the call to step out in even greater ways.  To trust more fully.  To let go of one of my last sources of 'steady' income.  Teaching private lessons in my studio.

I was reading Matt. 6:31-33 recently where God asks us why we worry about clothes and food?  If He cares for the birds of the air and the flowers of the field, surely He'll care for us, He promises.

My exact words to Him in response were "I'm not worried about food and clothes...I know I have enough of those things....I'm worried about paying my monthly obligations as a result of this ministry that I've given myself to."

So me and God have been working on this part of my faith.  I'm still working through the 'whys' of my lack of faith and asking God to help me trust Him more.  Why am I so afraid He won't care for me???

This morning as I was reading in Psalm 78, I got hit between the eyes.....or 'busted' as some folks might say.  Guess I still have more work to do in this new season of trust.

"They even spoke against God himself, saying, "God can't give us food in the desert. Yes, he can strike a rock so water gushes out, but he can't give his people bread and meat."  When the Lord heard them, he was angry.  The fire of his wrath burned against Jacob.  Yes, his anger rose against Israel, for they did not believe God or trust him to care for them."


Ya know - I truly believe that it must hurt my heavenly Father when I don't believe he can supply all my needs or can't trust him to care for me.  I can believe that we'll have enough food and clothes...but like the children of Israel I doubt that He can go beyond the daily needs to the bigger things.

Yep - I've been busted.  Again.

"Lord, I believe.  Now help my unbelief".

How have you seen God meeting your needs?  I'd love to hear your comments.

The final list of songs on my new CD

Since May of 2009 I have been working on this new CD and I am so happy to see it come to completion.  I have really enjoyed getting back into being creative in a different way these past 6 months.  Normally, I'm writing new songs, practicing for concerts, preparing topics for speaking and writing songs for terminally ill children and youth.

It's been a nice change to sit and play the piano and be creative with songs I usually lead for worship.  Now my fans will be able to enjoy some of their favorite worship choruses in an instrumental version.

Here's the final list of 11 songs:

Blessed Be Your Name

The Wonderful Cross

How Great is Our God

Here I Am To Worship

In Christ Alone

Holy is The Lord

Beautiful One

Forever

Indescribable

You're Worthy of My Praise

Breathe

We are planning for a pre-Christmas release.  So consider ordering for Christmas gifts too!

You can help move the process along by pre-ordering this new CD.  Visit http://www.francesdrost.com and click on "buy music".

When The Flowers Fade

I like to wog around our block.  Somedays.  On beautiful sunny days like today.

Wog is my term for the combination of walk/jog that I do.  I walk until I feel energized, then jog until I feel like I'm going to die, then I walk again.

There's a beautiful home on the road that I walk.  They've had a beautiful showcase of petunias all summer long and I've admired them on every walk!

But recently I noticed the flowers were gone.  Before I had time to feel sad because winter is coming for sure, I saw some aspects of the landscape I had not seen before because I was always sidetracked by the flowers.

Without the flowers, the grey stone walls of the house show up more.  The black shutters are strikingly black, which show off the remaining flowers with their big red dinosaur-size blooms.

I had to think.  There are days when I feel like the flowers in my life are gone.  News of the death of a friend's baby, or a friend losing their job and having trouble finding a new one.

Over time though, from experience in my own life, I've observed that when one aspect of landscape is gone in our life, we somehow see some other parts more clearly. Things we took for granted before become really special.

Not everything fades when the flowers fade.

www.francesdrost.com

"I Took My Mother's Car Away"

I don't have children.  Been married 20 years, have 2 cats and sometimes joke that they are my children, but I have enough friends with children to know that realistically, cats are NOT children.  Though they take a lot of love and attention (play time, litter boxes, discipline issues....like not jumping on the counter for the millionth time, etc.) they still are NOT children.

I do have a mother.  Every person has one.  I am half the age of my mother.  She had me when she was 43.  Quite a job for someone at 43 I'd say, since that is exactly my age now.

I don't know what it's like to take away something a child loves for the sake of their well-being or put up boundaries 'for their protection', but I do know what it's like to take away my mother's car.

She's 86 and has been a widow for 8 1/2 years (for the second time).  Her first husband died after 2 years of marriage and one little boy, who later died at the age of 26.  And oh yeah, did I mention she lost another child of hers who drowned when he was just 2 years old.  She knows what it is to give up something she loves.  So taking her car should be an easy thing for both she and I - right?

Wrong!

I have this huge crushing weight in my heart and torrential rains threaten to pour out of my eyes if I but open the dam.  Fortunately I was able to hold them back.  Just some scattered showers.

For the past couple of years she has been saying that she needs to quit driving.  I always agreed.  But I was determined not to force this on her.  I felt she should make her own decision.

A few weeks ago she called my cell phone and left a message (though prompted by my sister) and said she was ready to give up her car .  I called her back to make sure she had not been forced into this phone call (as if my sweet sister could even do such a thing).

I have to admit I've been dreading this day.  I went through all the arguments in my mind - ya know - the "she could have an accident and kill someone" kind of thing, but it never helped.  I know that she is crossing a new threshold in life when she releases her car.  She now depends on everyone else for just about everything.  Doctor, dentist, groceries, church, holidays....oh my, the holidays.  We will now need to pick her up for everything from Thanksgiving to Memorial Day...to who knows what else.  Okay, so some of my feelings are selfish.

But right now, I feel really, really sad.  In fact, as we were talking tonight (before the rude car removal ritual) she mentioned that she heard some messages on TV today that helped prepare her for "her car being taken away from her".  I politely tried to let her know that the last thing I want her to feel is that her car is being taken away.  She gave permission.  She made this decision weeks ago.  Now I feel like the bad mother who is disciplining her child.  Is this hurting me worse than it is her?  Probably not - though it feels that way.

When I finally left her house, she said, "well, I guess this is goodbye" - to her car, not me.  That did it.  I had to make my way quickly to the car, her car that is.  If she showed any emotion whatsoever, the torrential rains would begin.

Yes, I guess I've become the mother now.  It's happened gradually.   I just hope I can be as good of a mother to her as she has been to me.

I was rendered speechless recently when a long time piano student of mine plopped down on the bench for her lesson and challenged me to guess what she just learned to do.

Now this is a girl who started back when her feet couldn't even touch the floor. Though she has always worked hard, she is quite shy and has little to say. I was shocked at both her outburst and her pride at her newly discovered accomplishment.

When she offered to demonstrate, I watched in sheer delight as this reserved young lady proceeded to lay down ON the piano bench with her head UNDER the piano keys and her hands reaching up from underneath to play UPSIDE DOWN!

All she needed to get started was for me to orient her back to middle C (a hard thing to do from the upside down position) and away she went with a few little elementary tunes made complicated by her 'reverse' position. (Halfway through I realized that this was indeed a kodak moment and grabbed the camera).

Don't be surprised if you see this new technique next time you see me in concert. I just hope I can get back up afterward.

The only thing to which I can attribute this new found boldness is the recent removal of her braces. A few weeks ago, she announced in another shocking outburst that she was finally getting her braces off. She has been like a different person. It's almost as if the braces made her feel inhibited in every way. Now she is talking and laughing and coming out of her shell......and playing upside down.

I think many of us walk around with restrictive braces on our hearts that keep us from living fully and abundantly. Sometimes it's someone elses words that inhibit us, sometimes it's as simple as our own self-doubt that causes lack of confidence.

It's fun to be a part of someone's life and watch them grow and become confident in who they are. That's a big reason why I do what I do. I hope it will create in others the courage to be all they were created to be....even if it appears upside down to my way of thinking.

Marching Music

What have you always been good at?
What needs do you care about most?
Who do you admire most?
What makes you feel most fulfilled?
What do you love to do most?
What have you felt called to do?
What do you most want to be remembered for?

We were standing on the Gettysburg battlefield watching a re-enactment of the little band that marched ahead of the soldiers in battle. Their uniforms looked a bit warm to me.....but our outfits weren't much better. We were on our motorcycles so we were wearing our leather jackets and chaps.

The drummers and pipers had specific pieces of music they were assigned to play for various events in the battle. I was especially interested in their breakfast call. (I like food).

They had all kinds of tunes for all kinds of orders and assignments. The last statement of the leader particularly caught my ear. "Soldiers march a little faster when there is music." As a musician I was inspired by this statement.

We have music at funerals, weddings, gyms, restaurants, parades, graduations and music at church where we gather to worship with our friends and family. Music can brighten any occasion!

Every soldier had their part in the battle. They were much more successful when everyone did their part. I am so happy to have the part of 'musician' in this life. If music helps us step a little faster, feel a bit more victorious and keep us attentive to our roles and assignments, than I am honored to be one of those that contributes in this way.

Finding your place is so crucial - especially in these times. An organization of any kind that does not have people functioning in their gifts will never reach its full potential.

Consider asking yourself this question - it's one that changed my life forever and got me on this road of music. "What is your place?"

I had to do a lot of soul searching and praying to find that answer, but when I did - it changed my path forever.

I'm so glad someone challenged me with that question. I hope that as a result, the 'soldiers' I serve among march a little easier and happier because I'm playing my role of musician.