Make A Splash!

  Thanks to my sweet little sister for moving up in the photography world and letting me inherit your camera. Watch out people- I have a big girl camera now!!! I have no idea what to do with all these fancy knobs and buttons. But I see mom's whip out these big ole' things all the time... so I am sure I can learn. There's probably like a mom class somewhere- free childcare, lattes, how to have a totally awesome DIY 3-year-old-birthday party and how to use your fancy-shmancy camera. All in one fun-filled afternoon. But I haven't the time (or desire). So I am piddling around and figuring it out at home- in a rain storm- which I am sure is great for the camera. I digress. Day 3 of constant rain in Nashville. Hope you are enjoying sunshine- people of the world. Rainy Day? Make a Splash!

The Cost of Freedom

Two days before my wedding, my dad received a call. He was being called up on a surprise deployment for the first anniversary of 9/11. He would leave in two days. By God's kindness, this was extended to four days and he was able to stand on the alter and lead my husband and I through our wedding vows before leaving to serve. He is a Chaplain, and as long as I have been alive, he has been in the military. I am 32.

My mom could tell you the same kind of stories about her dad. My grandpa spent the better part of her growing up years deployed to Vietnam. He has four daughters and they all have moments where dad couldn't be there.

My sister has a similar story. She and my brother-in-law tried to get pregnant for several years without luck. Then one day, they found out they were pregnant. The next week-literally the next week-he was deployed to Afghanistan. His third deployment to the battle zone since graduating from West Point nine years ago. My little sister is the most brave woman I know. As are most military spouses. He deployed and she journeyed through her very first pregnancy alone. Stationed half way across the world from our family, with her husband in eminent danger each and every day, she grew a baby. In the military, you get something called R&R, rest and relaxation. It's a two week escape from war. He chose his R&R for two days before her due date. He flew from Afghanistan to Hawaii- and I promise you my sister coaxed that sweet baby girl out of her the second he landed on Hawaiian soil! They knew they were on borrowed time. He watched his daughter come into the world. He spent two weeks with her. And then? He flew back to the war zone of Afghanistan.

No new momma should have to figure out motherhood alone by day and pray that her husband will come home alive by night. But she did it. With grace. Strength. And bravery. She did what was required.

Freedom is never free. It always requires sacrifice. And sacrifice hardly follows our plans. It doesn't check to see if anyone is getting married, buried or having a baby. It doesn't inquire about whether this is good for the kids or good for the spouse or even good for the man or woman being asked to serve and put their lives down on the line. And still, for hundreds of years, men and women have voluntarily said that this experiment in freedom is worth it.  If, as Thomas Jefferson wrote, we truly hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal and endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights; that among those are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness; then someone has to bear the cost of those liberties both at home and abroad.

As we celebrate the birth of our nation and this grand experiment in freedom and self-governance, I am so grateful for the men, women, children and families who understand that freedom is never free. To those who offer themselves up as willing and ready- no matter when the call comes in- we thank you for protecting our inalienable rights. Life. Liberty. And the pursuit of happiness. We remember and celebrate you, and the many men and women who have served America before you, as we remember and celebrate our own freedom.

Thank you for paying for the cost.

"Our great modern Republic.  May those who seek the blessings of its institutions and the protection of its flag remember the obligations they impose."  -Ulysses S. Grant

Video Premiere - This I Know

I am so excited to share the video release of "This I Know" with you guys!  A big thanks to NewReleaseTuesday.com for the premiere of the video. This video was made by yours truly- hope you enjoy it!

Official Press Release:

THIS I KNOW

Solo artist, Jenny Simmons, to release the single This I know, a timeless song based on the beloved children's classic Jesus Loves Me, just in time for summer!

This I Know is a whimsical and infectious tune that draws from the familiar chorus of Jesus Loves Me and dives deep into the heart of anyone struggling with God's free, unmerited grace. It is a perfect follow-up to Addison Road's popular re-make of the children's song, This Little Light of Mine and is already a favorite among fans!

Children and adults of all ages will be drawn to the nostalgic lines of the chorus, but mom's will particularly find themselves drawn to the lyrics in the verses.

"When it comes to being free, I am my own worst enemy. Oh I can, criticize every move I make, I've got a microscope on my mistakes and I steal glory from the one who made me me."

Written by a mom, for moms, this song encourages those of us struggling with self-criticism, guilt and imperfections to internalize and believe the very words we teach our own children.

"Jesus loves me- this I know- and it's not because of anything I've done. This love is unconditional. So at my worst or at my best, you don't love me less, you can't love me more. This I know for sure."

As a mom, I realize I have a huge responsibility to model for my daughter a healthy love and care for myself. When I constantly tear myself down, spend too much time in the mirror or focus too much on the outward mistakes and imperfections, I set an example for my daughter, that what I look like and how well I perform is what defines me. In doing this, I also risk setting an example that God's love is earned, kept or granted in much the same way. This song is a constant reminder for me to ask for God's help believing in my heart, what I profess to be true with my mouth.

You and I- all of our quirks, imperfections, weirdness, silly moments, off days and all, bring a smile to the heart of God. Made for God's glory and in God's image- the Bible indicates that God takes joy and delight in his children. That indeed, He LOVES us!

What To Do When You Swallow a Bug

Spit. Always do an immediate spit. This might actually get rid of the bug. Next, blink your eyes rapidly and scrunch your face as if to ask your poorly assaulted self- did that really just happen to me? ME? Of course.

Give yourself a moment to think of all the ways you've been let down by the world and your life and the hard knocks of it all.

Now spit again! This time with a look of shock and bewilderment and a hint of taking it all very, very personally.

YES! You are being picked on by the bug world too!

Assault your tongue. Stick it out for the world to see. Then, with both hands, doggy paddle your tongue in effortless disgust.

That's right! Keep going!

Now gag. But not too much- as you are not convinced the bug has made its way into the lining of your stomach- just your throat.

Do a throaty gag. Do another throaty gag- but this time add in the simultaneous craning of the neck and head.

Now spit again. With a look of anger.

How dare you come inside my mouth? Spit! Nasty useless *#$#@%# bug. SPIT! YOU ARE THE SPAWN OF SATAN and I DESPISE YOU. SPPPPPPPPPPPPPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

Now look around.

If there is a person, act as though nothing dramatic or out of the ordinary has happened.  Calmly say, "Wow, I hate it when that happens."And give that person your cutest, most sane smile. The smile really needs to reflect that you are a person at peace. So try to relax those forehead muscles and bulging neck veins (you know from the craning and gagging) and give them the sweetest smile you have. I am normal. I really am. Try and communicate this. Slightly shrug your shoulders and do a subtle closed-mouth smile. This gives you a little more cute factor.

If there isn't a person around, say a quick prayer of gratitude. No one saw your insanity as you raged against the poor, helpless, dying bug in your mouth.

Continue with life. And if you're real adventurous and scientific and trapped in a grown up body with your 6-year-old mind...

Keep an eye out for it. The bug that is.

When you see it say a little eulogy-

and flush.

*Inspired by the bug episode I may, or may not, have just had on my front porch while sipping coffee and reading Chaucer.

** I've never read Chaucer in my life. I am actually going to have to Google him to make sure he was a writer and that I am spelling his name correctly. *** Definitely pretend to be reading a smart book or doing something very sophisticated after the bug episode. This goes a long way for people- trust me. **** https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geoffrey_Chaucer BOOM! He was the Father of English! Heck yeah I was reading Chaucer!

Here's What I Really Want to Tell You:

I am ok. The thing about failing at something- in this case- a CD that has (so far) gotten very little radio play and even fewer purchases- is this:

Everyone fails.

Failure is inevitable.

And also- I don't care what the numbers say or the charts read. Sure, there are nights when I cry and curse and pout and decide I will quit. But those voices- those numbers and charts don't define the value of what I have created. I wrote ten songs. Me! A girl who had no idea she could write ten songs, let alone write songs that tell the story of my journey and the human experience as we wait out the unknown deserts of life. It may not rank high on the charts or be a best-seller; but it is honest and true to the places God has led me. He. The Good Shepherd.

And telling the story of how the Shepherd has led me was never meant to be monetized in the first place- was it?

So many uncomfortable thoughts and questions.

And the truth is, our culture is simply not good at uncomfortable waiting and uncomfortable questions.

***

A few months ago I came downstairs and found Ryan watching another one of his never-ending endless Netflix documentaries. The amount of documentaries these days seems ridiculous. Documentaries on bikes and motorcycles and wheelchairs and farms and guns and medicine and food and internet dating and vagabonds. It's endless. This time, he was watching a documentary with little talking, mostly in sub-titles, and all about Sushi. Seriously? A documentary on Sushi making?

I totally judged him and the entire film-making community in one fatal swoop.

And then- I heard the man on the film say something that stopped me in my tracks. Literally, I was in the kitchen working and came into the living room and said, "re-wind that."

The movie, Jiro Dreams of Sushi, draws me in. Not because of the amazing culinary genius or the exquisite food created by the 3 star Michelin rated chef- but because it paints the story of a man who has devoted everything to perfecting the art of his craft. His son, who has apprenticed under his father, tells about the years of practice and learning that happens before a single egg is allowed to be cracked in Jiro's kitchen. The years he spent watching and training under his dad before he was allowed to create his own batch of rice. Years before he was allowed to make rice?  That's the part I made Ryan re-wind.

I've been making rice- mostly crunchy- since the 5th grade.

Did he really say it was ten years before he was allowed to make rice?

The ridiculous amount of time Jiro has lavished on this one thing stopped me dead in my tracks and I wept through most of Jiro Dreams of Sushi.

“JIRO DREAMS OF SUSHI is about a spiritual journey towards perfection. But it is not about achieving perfection. It is about the act of striving for it. The film is breathtaking, inspirational and most of all humbling. ”- Eric Ripert, Chef/Co-Owner Le Bernardin.

This is an entire film dedicated to patience. An entire film about someone who went TEN YEARS before he was allowed to cook his first batch of rice.

Do you know anyone- honestly- who has apprenticed at anything for ten years before attempting it? Much less making a bowl of rice?

This movie is shocking because watching it, you become aware of your aversion to patience. Your aversion to waiting.

Waiting is uncomfortable.

It is uncomfortable for the person who is having to wait and it is uncomfortable for the on-looker.

It's like watching the Olympic athletes preparing to flip off of the high-dive. It is excruciating. Your heart beats faster than there's. You hold your breath. Unable to move.  Slightly frozen by the fear of the height and the audacity of the jump. The anxiety for the onlooker is paralyzing. JUMP ALREADY. JUST GET IT OVER WITH. JUUUMMMPPP.

Make yourself a freaking bowl of rice!!! DO IT.

The athlete's ability to wait in the middle of the tension and only jump when they are good and ready is heart-attack inducing for those of us just wanting to hurry up and get them off the high-dive before they slip and fall and lose control and get hurt.

Our aversion to patience- our propensity to hurry along the person who is waiting, preparing- speaks deeply to the state of our souls. We just want it to be fixed for them. We want to end their suffering and wrap up those tense moments of untold waiting with a pretty bow.

We are a people averse to waiting. We like short-cuts and quick answers. Happy endings that don't have to be fought for. That don't require mountains to climb and valleys to languish in before getting to the finish line. Watching someone else wait- is like watching a slug die. Brutal. Tie that in with little glimmers of failure as the person waits out the desert?

We cannot bear to watch someone walk through it.

***

So to boldly tell the world you are stuck. Waiting. A semi-failure at your current gig. Unsure of what comes next. Wrestling with what comes next and why the dreams aren't panning out is hard. Because hand in hand with that message is this:

I am ok with the waiting.

I am thriving in the desert.

While those who love me want me to jump already (for my own safety, of course)

I am ok standing tippy-toed on the edge of the diving board.

Do I want to jump?

Absolutely. I cannot wait to jump.

But until then- my eyes are focused. Locked in. My feet gripped firmly. Freely. My spirit is being prepared. My soul renewed. I am becoming brave. I am becoming centered. I am becoming purposeful. I am becoming prepared.

I am becoming.

And there is no other place that I want to be.

I am ok with this season of waiting.

And you can be too.