Another Trip Around The Sun…

(Originally written 3/17/21; meant to be posted that day…oops!)

Yesterday I celebrated St. Patrick’s Day and another ‘trip around the sun’ for me…plans for some time in quiet contemplation, but severe weather and a series of tornadoes in the area disrupted that idea a bit (although I did have some prayerful moments in my storm ‘closet’)…

I am blessed and so grateful for all the wonderful birthday wishes on social media, texts, emails, and in person gatherings…who could ask for more? Thank you ALL…

I am amazed, but not really surprised, that there are actually flowers in bloom and buds on the trees after that really DEEP freeze we went through a couple of weeks ago. How wonderful to be reminded of the promise of new life, even after the coldest and darkest of days. I’ve said before that’s one of the things I love most about being in the Delta…seeing the Gospel lessons manifested in the ‘seed’ and the ‘farm’ and all related agricultural activities…year after year after year…the faithfulness of God.

I hope you and all you love are safe and well and enjoying the beginning signs of spring as vaccines for the COVID virus continue to roll out to the public. I’m grateful that I’ve received both my doses…that in itself lifted my spirit and increased my hope that we are indeed seeing light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. I’m continuing to pray that the collective ‘we’ rises with courage and strength to meet the enormous challenge of vaccinations for all in the coming weeks and months.

Have you seen the Music From The Ground Up episodes yet? The episodes are looking GREAT! A new episode is released each Friday at 1 pm CST on the Deep Roots website and also on our YouTube channel. Please subscribe and hit that notification bell so you’ll be reminded when a new episode goes online! Yours truly was featured last Friday, and in case you missed it, here it is:)

If you’re in the Cleveland area, get ready to grab your folding chair, a friend, and a cool beverage as the Deep Roots: Live Downtown! outdoor music series begins on April 23 at 6 pm at the Delta Arts Alliance awning. Live music for eight Fridays in a row, featuring local artists on the Deep Roots roster. I hope you’ll support these efforts of Cleveland becoming a MUSIC CITY…plenty of room to safely spread out with friends and neighbors and enjoy our talented local musicians! Schedule of dates and artists will be announced soon and will be on our website events page HERE.

Another little bit of good news…and a reminder of how songs have a ‘life of their own’…my friend and co-writer, Karen Staley, shared with me that singer Kelly Clarkson performed our song, “Keep Walkin’ On,” on her TV show earlier this week…how fun is that? Faith Hill recorded this song over 20 years ago…hope it makes you dance around the kitchen!

https://youtu.be/b4MkmJc4_Wk

Until next time…wear your mask…wash your hands…get the vaccine…say your prayers…and be kind to one another…

+peace+

Tricia

A Thrill of Hope…

12/24/20

Hello, friends…and Merry Christmas to you…it’s almost time…out of the longest night of the year, the Light is about to appear…the Promise is about to be kept…

“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel…”

This past Monday night, a little after sunset, I drove out to the edge of town to see if I could see the ‘Christmas Star’…the great conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in the southwestern sky. Since I live in the flatlands, I wasn’t concerned that there would be visual obstructions to the night sky, but while driving to my destination, I found myself ‘surprised by joy,’ as C. S. Lewis wrote, as I felt “a thrill of hope” in my heart and a moment of anticipation that was fresh and new this Christmas season. Is this what the Magi felt when seeing the great star as they journeyed? Did their excitement increase as they neared Bethlehem? In these final pandemic days of 2020, I was grateful to feel a measure of joy as I stared up into the dark Delta night...”O Come, Emmanuel…”

Another ‘surprised by joy’ moment I wanted to share….during this 2020 year of pandemic, I’ve been working through the United Methodist Hymnal again, a couple of songs each morning…good for keeping up my sight singing skills and pleasant on the ear to sing the ‘old’ hymns while learning some ‘new’ ones. I always glance at the bottom of the page to see who the writers are (that’s what songwriters do), and lo, and behold, there it was….hymn #728…”Come Sunday”….by…wait for it…

DUKE ELLINGTON.

Yep, ‘the Duke’ has a song in the Methodist hymnal! How did I miss this? I jumped up and headed straight to the piano, reveling in the augmented and diminished chords that you don’t hear in the old ‘standards,’ and I was smiling all day long:)

Well, here’s to 2021….thinking about doing a little YouTube series from the Big Front Porch…nothing fancy…a little encouragement and music…what do you think? Let me hear from you….I hope you and all you love have a blessed and peaceful Christmas (even if it’s on FaceTime or Zoom), with many moments of joy and…

“…A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn…”

+peace+
Tricia

Indian Summer…

10/12/20

This afternoon I’m sitting on my back porch enjoying the continual breeze of a ceiling fan as the temperature is a balmy 80 degrees. Not terribly unusual for the Delta this time of year, but I’m about ready to break out my favorite sweatshirt, how about you? Skeeter is napping in the chair next to mine, one of the many squirrels in my large oak tree is navigating his/her way down to nibble on some corn I put out, the sweet olive tree is full of fragrant blossoms, and I see two new buds on my knockout roses. All in all, it’s a lovely day…and what a gift that is.

Nice to be able to still find peace even as the pandemic continues and hurricanes blow through our region…even as political ads/texts/emails seem to grow more persistent and invasive (I’ve turned my tv off)…even as things seem out of control…at least from a flawed human perspective. But thanks be to the One who calls us to be. now. here. rather than pushing so hard and so fast that we often tend to be. nowhere. (And yes, I have that finger pointing straight back at me…)

I’ve had a great week of having the good fortune to be in what I call “the crosshairs of my giftings,” which I believe is found, for me, at the junction of music and encouragement. The Deep Roots music project, a community initiative to develop and promote local roots music, had the opportunity to shoot videos of eleven local artists performing at a lovely theatre space at the Delta Arts Alliance. A brief interview with each artist/band revealed a common thread of just how much we have all missed playing music WITH EACH OTHER. And even the film crew and a few select visitors said the same thing…”It’s great to hear live music again!”  So stay tuned for a series of short roots music programs (probably on YouTube), featuring some really talented local musicians, in early 2021…after we put the Year of our Lord 2020 behind us. If you’d like to read about the project and meet the initial roster of musicians, visit www.deltadeeproots.com, and if you sign up for the email list, you’ll receive a link to an exclusive playlist of three hours of local Delta roots musicians (yours truly included)!

In case you’re not familiar with the term, American roots music is described as a combination of musical styles which incorporates early music genres and traditions of indigenous groups with ‘shared roots,’ heavily influenced by both the culture and sound of the blues. American roots music grew from the “folk” music made by whites of European descent in the early 20th century, mostly of meager means and living in the rural, isolated South, then expanded to include the song styles of other cultures, particularly the blues and gospel music of African-American southerners. While it encompasses a broad range of music genres and styles, roots music now includes those genres which were given birth in the Mississippi Delta and the American South: blues, folk, gospel, traditional country, zydeco, R&B/soul, bluegrass, and singer/songwriter styles. Often marginalized on commercial radio, roots music contains a common thread that draws on the lived experience of ordinary men and women and has served as a vehicle for offering the disenfranchised a voice.

I’ve been cleaning out some Dropbox files today, and as I took a few moments to reflect on some photos and movies, I was reminded how I have been blessed over the past several years in seeing plans and hard work bear good fruit. I hope, with intention and focus, that will be the case going forward with new projects and ideas. As Thanksgiving approaches, my hope is that all of us are able to find something good that has come out of the upheaval of the last 8 months …and that we will cultivate a deeper sense of gratitude for each day that we are given.

 

 

 

 

 

…and remember, at least we have SOME football to watch… (And I really like this all-SEC schedule☺)

Thanks for reading…I hope you and all those you love stay safe and well…and that you find some time to enjoy the peace of a few moments on your own Big Front Porch.

____Tricia

Crossing Over…

CROSSING OVER

The coronavirus pandemic continues and one day seems to melt into another without much distinction, but this week marked, for me, with significant passings…on the local, state and national level.

One of our sweet St. Luke church community members, Ann, passed away yesterday. She sat on the second pew near the front of the sanctuary, smiled when I sang, and she always had a kind word to say as folks were leaving the service. I was reminded of and saddened by how difficult it must be in these trying time for our elders and their family members to not be able to be with each other during that sacred time of crossing over at the end of life.

I had the opportunity a little over a week ago, at the invitation of Ann’s daughter, to stand outside the courtyard of the nursing home where she was living and sing her a few songs. As I was waiting for Ann to be brought outside, another family was gathered by the courtyard fence and was shouting words of love, through tears, to a frail man who appeared to be the patriarch of the family. As I got my guitar out of its case to prepare for Ann, I felt a tap on my shoulder and one of the younger boys of the family asked, “Would you sing my papaw a song?” Expecting a hymn request or other church song, I said, “Sure…what would you like for me to sing?” He said, “Do you know ‘He Stopped Loving Her Today?’”  It may seem strange, but in that moment I gave thanks for every night I sang that sad song in a bar in Nashville. “I’d be happy to.” As his sister held the phone up with the lyrics, I gave it my best shot. Turns out the old man had sung that song to his wife as she crossed over…there wasn’t a dry eye in the courtyard, including mine. I regrouped, turned my attention to Ann,  and sang some of her favorite songs as our pastor connected us in prayer. Rest in peace, Ann…I’ll miss seeing you on the second row.

Strange how lives connect over time and space, sometimes in ways we could have never imagined…

Last week also marked the passing of Charles Evers, former Mayor of my hometown of Fayette. The ‘soundbite’ (that term wasn’t around in the 60s) that was always attached to him was, “the first black mayor of a biracial town since Reconstruction.” I never learned the reasons why he chose Fayette to establish his political career, but the years that he was in office while my mother was the local newspaper editor is a story worth telling (I’m hopeful that a couple of my writer pals, more skilled in the screenplay format than I, will put pen to paper and flesh out the story). When my daddy’s body was brought through the community of Fayette for his funeral service, Mr. Evers lowered the flags in town to half-staff. When my mother died, Mr. Evers was one of her pallbearers and eulogized her, saying, “She was my worst enemy and my best friend.” I’m hoping that Mama and Daddy and Mr. Evers are sharing a toddy and catching up on some lively conversation about all things Mississippi. Rest in peace, Mr. Evers…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And finally, Congressman John R. Lewis…I had the chance to meet him in 2014 in Philadelphia, Mississippi, and was immediately struck, like so many others, with his calm demeanor and the dignity he displayed. From the son of an Alabama sharecropper to the ‘conscience of the Congress’…he was always working, as a child of God, towards the beloved community. The picture of his final crossing the over Pettus bridge yesterday is worth a thousand words…rest in peace.

 

Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?

Jesus replied:˜Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ˜Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”   Matthew 22:36-40

Until next time, take care of yourself and be kind to your neighbor:)

+Peace from the Porch+

Tricia

P. S.  If you’d like to see/hear a replay of me and the Harmony Junkies singing some oldies in support of restocking the library at Parks Elementary, here’s a link…enjoy!

https://www.facebook.com/756510202/videos/10163799577370203/

Blessed are the feet…

After receiving a much-needed pedicure recently, I was looking down at my feet and saw that I had slipped on what I lovingly refer to as my ‘house shoes’___a 20+ year old pair of Birkenstock sandals that have been resoled at least once and glued together more times than I can count. I began to consider whether or not it was time to let them go, but before I could finish that thought, I felt prompted to ‘stand at the crossroads and look’ and contemplate those worn out shoes a little more deeply, particularly in light of recent events.

Lately there have been lots of shoes on lots of feet that are walking in lots of places…on hot asphalt streets, on dusty trails, in green parks…taking step after step to try and do justice…not only in our own country, but around the world. In many of these places, men and women of good will are working for peace and trying hard to love mercy (kindness) as a deterrent to the vitriol that would corrode our sense of common decency and civility.

I reached for my phone.

I dialed the numbers of four young men of color who, within the last few years, graduated from the college program I used to chair. During their time at Delta State, I considered them to be student leaders, and we had enough history among us for me to feel comfortable calling them with the question, “What can I do to help make this community better?” To a man, they offered me words of encouragement and they showed kindness. As we talked, I was saddened to hear of incidents of discrimination and injustice they personally experienced during their college years spent in our community. 

But these young men also had it in their hearts to express deep gratitude and a hope that the world would be better going forward if people would take the time to truly ‘see’ each other. These are young men of faith, and in their words and through their actions I can see the manifestation of the biblical mandate from Micah to walk humbly with your God. I am confident each of them will change this world for the better. Knowing them has surely changed me for the better.

I recently came across an old song I wrote over 25 years ago called “Down In Capetown.” I wrote it in the mid-80s about the injustice of apartheid in South Africa, and I was struck with how closely the lyrics reflect the pain and struggle of the recent tragedies making headlines in America. Perhaps a difficult song to hear, but one not without hope at its conclusion.

From the words of Dr. Daina Ramey Berry: “…how can I, in my little corner of the world, make change happen and make generations that come after me experience a more just and whole society?…

Maybe my old sandals have a few more miles in them….I’m going to look for the gorilla glue. 

+Peace+

Tricia

“How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news of good things.” Romans 10:15

 

 

Right away…write a way…

Well, the world has certainly changed since I posted my last blog…nothing like I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. And so now we are all charged with ‘social distancing’ as the norm for the coming weeks…or months…or more. 

As I was outside last week digging up the ground in my backyard for a small garden (first one I’ve had since coming back to Mississippi), I found myself feeling grateful and very comfortable being at home. The day seemed to slow down in a way that felt strangely familiar and satisfying. Hmmm….felt like I was living like a monk. And rather than feeling the demand to have everything happen right away, I heard the phrase differently in my ear….right away dissolved into write a way. So here is a brief offering of pen to paper.

Some of you may know that I am an oblate with the Sacred Heart Monastery in Cullman, Alabama. From the website at Sacred Heart, here’s the definition of an oblate: 

“Oblates of St. Benedict are Christian women and men who enrich their way of life by associating themselves with a Benedictine community. They offer
themselves (the meaning of oblation) in service to Christ by choosing to incorporate the values of Benedictine spirituality into their daily life. Oblates are not vowed religious nor do they live at the monastery; rather, they bring the spirit of Benedictine life to their own homes, churches, and workplaces.”

I realized that perhaps this new ‘social distancing’ was drawing me more closely into a traditional monastic order of the day, which is a balanced combination of work and prayer…Ora et labora…the Benedictine motto. And that felt peaceful and meaningful, offering an opportunity to savor being intentional and ‘in the moment.’ 

I’ve been amazed (but not really surprised) at how the music and creative communities have found beautiful ways to bring their gifts and talents to the world in this crazy time through the miracle of technology. Our spirits are lifted through SONG and I hope we will all share the sheer determination to make music and dance in the midst of what seems like madness. 

With all the wonderful sentiments out there on social platforms and broadcast media, I hope this little note brings you encouragement. I have news about a special project of which I had the pleasure to be part that has recently been released, and I will send that out soon. Until then, allow me to share a couple of things that have really spoken to me over the last few weeks. One is from the Rabbit Room, a group of like-minded thinkers that fosters Christ-centered community and spiritual formation through music, story, and art. This article was shared by Rev. Darian Duckworth…it’s titled “Love In The Time Of Covid-19,” written by Lanier Ivester, and the piece below is called, “So That’s,”by American editor/novelist Peter DeVries.

“So that’s it,” Dr. Cameron said, greeting me at the elevator. “Your daughter’s temperature’s been normal now for two days, so it’s probably let up. She’s just walked in the hall without any pains. She feels a lot better. Give it another day and you can take her home. But anyhow, we’ve eliminated everything serious.”

That was the happiest moment of my life. Or the next several days were the happiest days of my life. We could break bread in peace again, my child and I. The greatest experience open to us then is the recovery of the commonplace. Coffee in the morning and whiskeys in the evening again without fear. Books to read without that shadow falling across the page. Carol curled up with one in her chair and I in mine. And the bliss of finishing off an evening with a game of rummy and a mug of cocoa together. And how good again to sail into Tony’s midtown bar, with its sparkling glasses, hitherto scarcely noticed, ready to tilt us into evening, the clean knives standing upended in their crocks of cheese at the immaculate stroke of five. My keyed-up senses got everything: the echo of wood smoke in Cheddar, of the seahorse in the human spine, of the dogwood flower in the blades of an electric fan, or vice versa….But you can multiply for yourself the list of pleasures to be extorted from Simple Things when the world has once again been restored to you. 

©From The Blood of the Lambs, Peter DeVries. Distributed by Warner Books, Inc., a subsidiary of Warner Publishing, Inc., New York.

Peace and a song to you…along with a ‘virtual’ hug from six feet away,

Tricia

Signs and Wonders…

I had written a blog post about 3 weeks ago after I returned from a trip to Nashville, but I’ll shelve that one for another time…

Today there seems to be an extra layer of ‘quiet’ not only here on the Big Front Porch, but all over the world as humans everywhere try to make sense of the word ‘pandemic’ while trying to make sensible choices regarding how we stay in community with our neighbors.

Here’s a beautiful post by Chris Wheeler titled, “Wash The Next Dish,” that was posted this week in The Rabbit Room. It’s a lovely reminder to tend to the little things with intention and gratitude.

God is still in control and offers love, mercy, and grace to us in hundreds of little reminders each new day along this broken road. I opened this morning’s Gospel reading to the eighth chapter of St. Matthew to see Jesus healing others in multiple scenarios…the person with the skin disease, the centurion’s servant, Peter’s mother-in-law…”He healed everyone who was sick.” I continued, and today’s reading in the Rule of Benedict was Chapter 36: The Care of the Sick. Coincidence? I think not.

Stained glass window in the Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi

Benedict’s rule tells us that “Care of the sick must rank above and before all else so that they may truly be served as Christ who said: ‘I was sick and you visited me.’ “ (Matt. 25:36) Even if that means visiting each other virtually as many did this morning for worship services.  I figure one of my jobs during this time is to continue to write and sing and pray, so that’s what I will try and do…use the extra time to read and ponder and look for ways to be a good neighbor.

There are many biblical verses that refer to ‘signs and wonders,’ but today I landed on the one in the second chapter of the book of Hebrews that says, “While God also bore witness by signs and wonders and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will.” As communication and education and business and more move to an online environment during these times of ‘social distancing,’ perhaps we can consider the miracle of modern technology as one of the ‘signs and wonders’ of today. What as amazing fact that, having received a gift of music, I can record that music in a digital format and share it on platforms that can be accessed within minutes around the world truly seems like one of the ‘signs and wonders’ of this age. So with that in mind, I hope this old hymn will be an encouragement to you all as we move forward through the days ahead. 

Be well…pax,

Tricia

The Work of My Hands…

As I’m writing, it’s rainy and cold in the Delta tonight, and this damp December weather tends to make my ‘well used’ knees feel a bit more stiff and sore. But on days like these I am reminded to give thanks for my mortal strength each time I am able to take a walk through our town’s lovely Christmas lights or just around the block, even if there are noticeable ‘snap, crackle, and pops’ with each step I take. Not really unexpected, given a lifetime of athletic activities, from youth sports through the running and fitness plans of adulthood and now the attempts to remain healthy through the less impactful practices of yoga, biking, and swimming.

But several weeks ago, I began to hear a new ‘clicking’ and ‘popping’…in some of my fingers…on both hands. Nothing to be alarmed about unless they start to lock up like trigger fingers, but this new soreness and stiffness from years of use (not to mention age) brought a new awareness of and gratitude for these amazing ten digits and how they are still able to move about the keys of a piano or the frets of a guitar. 

I’m trying to be more intentional these days about how I observe and ‘see’ things…to try and really SEE on a deeper level what God would show me. During this Advent season, I’ve had a lovely time doing several seasonal ‘gigs,’ and at a recent performance for some sweet senior citizens, I found myself noticing the hands of a lady who sat next to me at lunch. Even though I am now considered a ‘senior’ citizen myself, this lovely lady was a good 15-20 years my senior. Her hands were paper thin, showing several age spots, her nails were manicured, her veins clearly defined. On her left hand she wore a beautiful diamond ring and gold band. I noticed she was having difficulty cutting the pork chop on the festive plate in front of her with the plastic knife and fork that were provided. But she managed…and enjoyed her lunch…and was happy to be there. She was in the moment. 

My first thought was, “You’re not too far away from those hands yourself,” which was a bit disconcerting, but the real lesson for me was BE. NOW. HERE. In each moment. In every scale and in every chord…in every beat and in every melody.  I think sometimes in the Christmas rush, that phrase gets scrambled to read more like BE. NOWHERE. Funny how a tiny period can make such a difference.

“May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us – yes, establish the work of our hands.”  Psalms 90:17

I hope that the work of your hands is blessed and that every moment in this Advent/Christmas season is full of meaning for you, full of joy and love and hope and peace, even during the long dark days of winter. The Light is coming….Emmanuel, God with us….creaky knees, stiff fingers and all.

Pax from the Big Front Porch,

Tricia

A time for every season…

Headed south on the City of New Orleans…

 

 

 

 

The Delta is beautiful this morning with multiple shades of earth tones, from the deep dark chocolate of the alluvial dirt to the golden shades of the broomsedge to the occasional blood red of the sumac and the sweet gum along the tracks. The land, as if one being, seems to take a deep restorative breath as it begins to settle into its season of rest, of fallowness and waiting. All of nature seems to slow down, offering opportunities for reflection and introspection on the amazing Gift that is once again promised to us and is coming soon…

I love the season of Advent…the anticipation…the expectation of something about to happen…candles bringing light into the darkness of our world’s winter… and the Promise…

The fields know of the Promise…and they rest in it…the fields know that spring will come in time and new life will begin. They never tire of the same story being told each winter, whether near the fireplace, in sacred spaces, or in open hearts…and neither do I. 

Here’s a seasonal song for you…may your Thanksgiving be filled with peace and gratitude….Tricia

“In A Bleak Midwinter”

(based on “A Christmas Carol”, a poem by Christina Rossetti)

In the bleak midwinter frosty winds made moan.

Earth stood hard as iron. Water like a stone.

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, 

In the bleak midwinter, long ago. 

Angels and archangels may have gathered there.

Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air.

But His mother only, in her maiden’s bliss,

Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd, would I bring a lamb?

If I were a wise man, would I do my part?

Yet what can I give Him? Give my heart.

Grateful and thankful…

I’ve just returned from my second year of attending the annual conference for the National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization (NHCPO) where I was again invited by my friend, Dr. John Mulder, to help lead a songwriting workshop for a group of hospice professionals. These angels of mercy willingly write deep thoughts about the sacred work that they do, share those thoughts with each other, and then entrust those thoughts to us to ‘knit them together’ into a cohesive song. It is such an honor and privilege to have a part in this kind of work because these folks are passionate about what they do. John and I huddled in a hotel room and came up with this year’s offering which is titled, “We All Know How This Ends.” We debuted the song for the group at a coffeehouse concert the following afternoon, and it was met with positive reviews, so it will become part of a larger recording project in early 2020 that will result in an album of songs of hope, healing, hospice care, and love. Worlds collided again in the connection with former hospice nurse and now bluegrass singer/songwriter, Ali Shumate, who writes for a publishing company in Nashville run by my songwriter buddy, Jerry Salley….you just never know how the dots will connect! Stay tuned….

In witnessing the care and passion that the hospice workers shared with us, I was reminded of how Jesus calls us to compassionately serve the poor and sick and marginalized in our communities, for that is where He is most often found…(there’s a song on my new Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter Eye CD called “Parable [Sheeps & Goats]” that I hope captures this idea). Recently, I have been listening to a podcast by theologian Richard Rohr which is based on his recent book, “The Universal Christ.” It’s called Another Name For Everything, and I haven’t made it through all the episodes, but one that particularly struck me talked about the idea that with all the vitriol, rancor, and chaos in our state/country/world right now, perhaps there is a ‘resetting’ going on…his thoughts explore the concept of ‘ordering-disordering-reordering,” and in looking at various ‘dark’ periods of the world’s history, it seems to me to make some sense. Without that possibility, then what could be the reason for this ‘shift?’ And right about now, it makes my brain hurt to think about that, so I’ll move on…would love to know your thoughts/comments on that…

But I am hopeful….and one of the things that encourages that hope in me is the upcoming season of Advent and Christmas, when once again, God brings to us the hope of the season…the ‘coming’ of Himself….the Incarnation…the Light…hard to fathom, but so beautiful to believe.

Our little community of Cleveland is about to ‘light up’ in a big way for another “50 Nights of Lights,” and I hope some of you will be able to take time and find your way to the Mississippi Delta to spend some time with the good folks here. There are SO many wonderful events going  on (scroll down on this link for a listing of events), but here’s one I’m really looking forward to – Have Yourself A Delta Little Christmas on Monday, December 2, at GRAMMY Museum® Mississippi. My friends, Buddy Greene and Jeff Taylor, will be the special guests on this holiday show featuring ‘homegrown’ talent…click HERE for all the info…don’t miss it!

And speaking of GRAMMY Museum Mississippi, the museum just opened a new exhibit called “Stronger Together: The Power of Women in Country Music.” For those of you who know my story, you know that I didn’t grow up listening to country music, but when I got to Nashville, I had a complete and thorough education in that wonderful genre because of all the opportunities I was afforded during my time there. When I would visit the Country Music Hall of Fame (and other music museums), my favorite exhibit would always be the display of lyrics of hit songs written in the hand of the songwriter. So let me try and express what an honor it is for me to have been asked to contribute two sets of my handwritten lyrics to this new exhibit….I chose “The Heart of Dixie” and “Looking In The Eyes Of Love”…But WAIT…there’s more….my lyrics are displayed as a pairing with the work of the incomparable songwriter, Cindy Walker, who wrote hits like “You Don’t Know Me,” “Dream Baby,” and “Blue Canadian Rockers.” Her acceptance speech at the 1997 Country Music Hall of Fame ceremony still brings me to tears…check it out….

Lots of things going on on the Big Front Porch, so I do hope you’ll sign up on my email list, if you haven’t already. I promise…NO SPAM…just a monthly gathering of news and some occasional blog posts.

Hope to see you on the porch soon…as Thanksgiving approaches, know that I am thankful for each of you….pax,

Tricia