career crossroads | reverse threading

every sunday morning for years and years we have sent a photograph to each other. every single sunday, mostly without fail. there might be one or two we missed, but no more than that. it is a cherished tradition and i envision us as little old ladies still sending texted photos on sunday mornings.

it started because most people we know are not sitting on a pipe organ bench first thing on a sunday morning. since we both were, we shared “this is where i am in the world right now and i am thinking of you” sentiments, knowing, without saying all those words, the other would completely understand all that meant.

for over a year now i have continued to receive them: benchviews, a slice of her church, a close-up of a pew or ornate woodwork, a candle, linens draped on the chancel, flowers, registration stops of the organ, piano keys, measures of music – all while my photos to her have dramatically changed.

instead, my early sunday morning photographs include various quilts, coffee mugs, shadows playing on the wall or on the fence, views of snow falling between miniblinds, the backyard, airbnb’s where we have awakened, out-of-town-out-the-window, glorious breakfast, and dogdog. the rule is – where you are right now – and since that is no longer at a church my view is sometimes narrower and sometimes broader, both.

not working at church every single sunday has given me much to think about. at first i really missed it. truth, for a long time i really missed it. thirty-something years is a long time. i was devastated by the loss of our community-family and a job i loved. i missed the organ bench and knowing which pipes were ornery and the choir and the ukulele band and those hauntingly beautiful handbells. i missed the curmudgeon of a piano. i missed dueting with the guitarist – boom mics and cables and the occasional feedback. i missed the tiny pew up front and the familiar musty smell of the balcony.

each church i worked at through the years has had its magic. but each church i worked at through the years has also had its toxins. not unlike -really- any other place of employment, being on the “inside” affords a different view – snapshots of the good, the bad and, definitely, the ugly. churches are not immune to that. and that’s the stuff i don’t miss.

because in our hearts, the one place we go that we would expect to be consistent, certainly not divergent, with mission – of kindness and grace in some manner or form – would be the religious institution we have chosen to be part of. we would expect the people there – whether in leadership or in congregation – to go the extra mile, to set an example, to navigate and solve difficulty, to negotiate differences, to reject-forswear-renounce personal agenda, to seek unity and transparency, to sort to love.

seeing – up close and personal – that isn’t the case is a rude awakening. no, we don’t expect perfection anywhere. yes, we do expect trying.

i adore seeing susan’s from-the-bench pictures, all so viscerally intimate and always part of me. and i love sending her my view as well. so, as it has been for over a year now, she’ll continue to get photos off-the-bench now. it’s not what it was.

dogga laid tucked in on the quilt next to me as i sipped coffee and watched the light gather in corners of the room. sunday morning. i took this picture to send her.

and i realized that i – finally – don’t miss that organ bench anymore.

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read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

browse david’s HELD IN GRACE painting series

browse david’s SACRED painting series

so if you are an over-thinker like me, this is tough – to trust where you’re going. there are too many details that get in the way of the overall picture. d is a global thinker…he looks at the bigger picture, he calls it “from 30,000 feet”. i need to be able to envision each foot to get there….ok, maybe not EACH one, but i need a few more details lined up in order to believe something is possible. that disparity gets us in trouble sometimes. we talk about something and are having two different conversations within the same conversation. mostly, we usually agree on the ultimate Thing, but getting there is, well, sometimes cloaked in a tad bit of disagreement.

who was it that said, “everything will be ok in the end. and if it’s not ok, it’s not the end” ??? such brilliance! and optimism! i suppose we gauge so much of what might happen on what happened Before. we have pre-judgments about how something will turn out; we have reluctance to start; we think, “i’ve already DONE this and it didn’t work.”

i am at a crossroads. after 15 albums, i haven’t recorded an album in 8 years, haven’t recorded a new vocal album in 16. 16! where does the time go? albums are very expensive projects, not only financially, but emotionally. as i have already talked about numerous times, there is financial pressure on independent artists now like never before. streaming and illegal downloading has lead to a literal trickle of income, despite millions of “listens”.

so – where do i go from here? songs have been waiting; the piano beckons. something in me resists, afraid of not recouping even what it costs at the front end for something new to be released. part of me wants to believe – believe that it’s time to release something new, in this new time of my career. put it out there and not be concerned with how it is received, how many cds are purchased, how many paid downloads vs how many times it is streamed or pirated. but that won’t pay any bills, won’t afford a living. i am having trouble seeing the 30,000 foot view. not to mention all the feet in-between here and there.

like you, in some arena of your life, i am trying to trust. that whatever decision i make it will be ok in the end. and, if it’s not ok, it’s not the end.