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Hello, friends of the Big Front Porch…I hope you are able, during the continuation of these interesting days, to find the time and space to actually BE on a porch somewhere, enjoying a good book, listening to a beautiful piece of music, or connecting with the natural world. As I’ve shared in several recent conversations (via the miracle of modern technology), one of the things I find myself most grateful for in all of this is that the pandemic is occurring during the spring season and not the cold and dark of winter…there is HOPE to be found in the new life of spring, even in difficult times. 

It’s been amazing to see how the music community has found ways to offer their gifts and talents for the larger good during all of this. I’ve watched amazing performances online that I would never have been able to see otherwise, and I hope when this is all over, we will have a deeper appreciation of the importance and value of music in our lives.

My wonderfully talented and generous friend, singer/songwriter Beth Nielsen Chapman, recently shared one of her beautiful original songs with her email list, and I was inspired to do the same…to share a song with you during these days of quarantine and pandemic. I hope it encourages a spirit of gratitude in your day-to-day comings and goings…here’s a bit of the story behind it…

In the mid-90s, when I was living and working in Nashville, a friend of mine (who, at the time, happened to be the executive director of the Nashville office of the American Cancer Society) asked if I would write an original song for an upcoming luncheon/fashion show fundraiser that would feature breast cancer survivors modeling designs from some of the city’s leading clothing stores. I happily agreed, but then creative procrastination set in…and two days before the event, there was nothing in front of me except a BLANK sheet of paper…no ideas…no brainstorms…not even a hint of where my muse (if it was present at all) was leading. But I do remember making the thirty minute drive into Nashville one crisp fall morning a few days before the event and realizing there was a heightened sense of consciousness around me…the blue of the October sky, the smell of coffee in my cup, the coolness of the autumn temperature, the clear sound of a bird singing…and I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of thankfulness to be alive…to be a part of that one particular day…and the songwriting ‘light bulb’ went on.

Songcraft dictates that for a song to be memorable, the chorus should be simple and repetitive…no problem there…and the verses should ‘tell the story.’ I love to tell stories, so I went to work and the song was completed in time to perform for the fundraising event. However, the two dozen or so survivors that were working as models for the event didn’t get to hear the song, as they were changing outfits during my performance. The audience responded warmly to the song, so about two weeks later, the decision was made to go into a local studio and record the song. Standard procedure…book a studio, hire some great musicians, and complete the project. But the ‘special’ icing on the cake was that the two dozen survivors featured at the fundraiser were brought into the studio to be the background singers on the simple chorus of the song. None of them were professional singers, but they had a such a passion for the message of the song that no studio singer would have been able to match their vocal contribution that day. It was one of the recording sessions I will most fondly remember from my time in the studios over the years. The song made its way through the cancer survivor community for many years, then other causes picked it up to share with their groups, and so on and so on. 

During this time of pandemic, even though we have lost so many and will continue to lose more before the virus is suppressed, I hope the message of “What A Wonderful Day!” will lift your sprits and bring you peace and joy in the midst of these difficult times.

Thank you kindly for listening,

Tricia

P. S.      I’ve been leading hymns the past few weeks for our online church services at St. Luke United Methodist Church here in Cleveland, MS. If you don’t have a ‘place to go’ for Sunday services, we’d love for you to join us at 10:30 am (or anytime for a replay:) online at this link: https://www.facebook.com/StLukeUMCClevelandMS/

 

“Doing small things well over a long period of time in the same place is how the Kingdom of God is advanced.” 

Not sure if this was something I read or something I heard in a sermon, but it stuck with me, and last night it was my privilege to witness the manifestation of this truth at the 30^th annual Evening in December event in Nashville benefitting Daystar Counseling Ministries. It was an event I helped start in 1989 with the Women in the Round, and I’m so pleased that it has become one of Nashville’s signature holiday events for the past three decades. It was a wonderful program….what a joy to reconnect with some old friends and my former boss, the great Connie Smith, and to share the stage with the incomparable Gospel vocalist, Cece Winans. A big shout out to the dedicated Daystar staff, many of whom participated in Daystar groups when they were children, as they continue to work to help young people through difficult personal and family situations by showing them the unconditional love of God. Here’s to the next 30 years…

And at the end of the long semester, here’s to all the teachers of the world as they work that ‘long haul’ with excellence day after day in their classrooms to help students become better persons and more educated citizens of the world…I know that about this time they are SO ready for a much deserved break….tell ‘em thanks when you see them…

During this Advent season, I am again thankful to be able to share Christmas music on various stages with friends and fans throughout the season…grateful that it is part of my call to continue to do ‘small (musical) things well over a long period of time.’ It’s part of my story…and just when I was running out of ideas as to how to express this, this passage from Fredrick Buechner was in my inbox this morning….couldn’t have said it any better…what’s your story?

“THIS IS ALL PART  of the story about what it has been like for the last ten years or so to be me, and before anybody else has the chance to ask it, I will ask it myself: Who cares? What in the world could be less important than who I am and who my father and mother were, the mistakes I have made together with the occasional discoveries, the bad times and good times, the moments of grace. If I were a public figure and my story had had some impact on the world at large, that might be some justification for telling it, but I am a very private figure indeed, living very much out of the mainstream of things in the hills of Vermont, and my life has had very little impact on anybody much except for the people closest to me and the comparative few who have read books I’ve written and been one way or another touched by them. 

But I talk about my life anyway because if, on the one hand, hardly anything could be less important, on the other hand, hardly anything could be more important. My story is important not because it is mine, God knows, but because if I tell it anything like right, the chances are you will recognize that in many ways it is also yours. Maybe nothing is more important than that we keep track, you and I, of these stories of who we are and where we have come from and the people we have met along the way because it is precisely through these stories in all their particularity, as I have long believed and often said, that God makes himself known to each of us most powerfully and personally. If this is true, it means that to lose track of our stories is to be profoundly impoverished not only humanly but spiritually.”

-Originally published in Telling Secrets

Pax,

Tricia

As many of you know, I grew up in a small town…Fayette, Mississippi…which is where I learned early the value and importance of community and hospitality, as well as the old adage, “It takes a village.” Those of you who grew up in similar situations know what I’m talking about…if you got ‘out of line’ in any way, the local grapevine to your mama or daddy was way faster than any computer on the market today, but that is part of the beauty of community…caring for one another through good times and not so good. 

I was reminded couple of weeks ago about the power of community and what a difference it can make when I drove up to Nashville to attend the screening of the documentary film, “Bluebird-The Movie,” which was produced  by Erika
Wollam-Nichols, manager of the Bluebird Cafe`, and Riverside Entertainment.

My goodness….what a night…

The songwriting community in Nashville is a unique tribe, especially those of us who were there during the establishment and development of the Bluebird Cafe` in the 80s as the premier ‘listening room’ for songwriters. Words like ‘holy’ and ‘sacred’ were part of the dialogue of the evening as 30 years of history rolled across the screen amid laughter and tears for all that the story means to those of us who were there and who identify as songwriters. Of course, the ABC show “Nashville” boosted the Bluebird’s credibility to a whole ‘nuther level, but after visiting with a couple of the cast members at the screening, I was pleased to hear the reverence with which they hold the Bluebird, even calling the club a ‘cast member’ that was crucial to the success of the show. It was a joy to watch the ‘up and coming’ songwriters on screen who hold hope in their hearts that the pursuit of their musical dreams is not in vain as long as the Bluebird is there. And you have to admire the patience and tenacity of all the writers, young and old, who stand in line for hours or wait for months to have a shot to perform one verse and a chorus of their best work in the span of one minute during Open Mic night. That’s HOPE, people…don’t ever let go of that. Amy Kurland, the founder, had the genius the allow the Bluebird to naturally evolve from a lady’s lunch stop to a rock club to the hallowed songwriter space it has become and then had the intentional thoughtfulness to turn the club over to the Nashville Songwriter’s Association International when she retired. She is the poster gal for understanding and supporting the value of the SONGWRITER. Thank you, Amy.

Be on the lookout for the film as it begins to ‘get out there,’…you won’t be disappointed and hopefully, you’ll come away with a bit more understanding about the ‘unsung heroes’ that put pen to paper in ways that make you laugh or make you cry or make you dance. They say there are two kinds of songwriters…those that write to make you remember and those that write to make you forget…we need them all. In this day and age, when any song can be streamed for free on any device at any moment by anyone around the world, it’s important to remember the songwriter’s motto, “It All Begins With A Song.”

Write on, children, write on,

TW

I’m writing this morning from one of my favorite places…Wightman Chapel on the campus of Scarritt-Bennett in Nashville, TN. Over the years, this beautiful place has provided a sanctuary, both literally and figuratively, for me in times of great joy and in times of deep sadness. It continues to be a place of sweet peace in the midst of this crazy world whirling around it.

I recently returned from a wonderful trip to New Mexico with my Delta ‘tribe’ for a gathering of women from around the world who are members of a professional forum. It was a delight to be included in this unique experience of local dinner parties, stimulating conversation, though-provoking speakers, and incredible southwestern art, culture, and cuisine.

The conference offered several break out panels, and in the spirit of the Big Front Porch (“Where there’s room enough for everybody”), I chose to attend one titled, “A Spiritual Path: Alternative Ways of Seeing the World” as I am curious about the spiritual paths people choose to follow. The panelists included a shaman, a Jewish woman who had been raised as a communist, a Presbyterian minister, an atheist, and a Sikh. Their paths were all very interesting and even enlightening to a point, but after the session ended, as I was trying to process all that had been said, I realized that none of the panelists had mentioned the word MYSTERY as part of their presentation. This was puzzling to me…

In our 21st century world, it seems to me that the thought of not being able to reason or explain something causes a sort of internal discomfort or uneasiness, but as I get older, I find myself becoming more at ease (and more curious) with the ‘mystery of the faith.’ I was listening to a podcast on my drive yesterday, and the content included the phrase, “Mysteries are intended to be the altars of devotion.” That rang true for me…what rings true for you? I’d love to hear your thoughts…

All is gift.

At the time I’m writing this, early in the gridiron season, the heat index in the Mississippi Delta is 105 degrees and it’s hard to imagine how young men are playing football in this extreme weather. But it’s also that time of year when the boys of summer compete for the spotlight with college football. At the moment, the Dodgers have clinched the National League Western Division and the Braves have clinched a wildcard spot in the National League Eastern Division, but over in the American League several teams are still scrapping to have a chance at postseason play. Who’s your team?

Last week I had the chance to meet one of Mississippi‘s favorite native sons, Archie Manning, and hear him tell stories of growing up in the Delta. He shared fond memories about playing baseball in Cleveland and meeting the legendary coach Boo Ferriss. Although Archie was drafted out of high school by more than one major league team, he chose Vaught-Hemingway and the Superdome for his sporting arena and my, what a magnificent mark he made on the game of football.

But for all the boys of summer who play games on diamonds, from Little Leaguers to World Series legends, here’s a song from my new Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter Eye album that is a tribute to that Shaw Hawk/Mississippi State Bulldog/Boston Red Sox player and Delta State coach, the great Boo Ferriss….they just don’t make them like that anymore. Play ball…