Shower Curtains and Miracles

So here's the deal.

I took my camera along on Steve's and my weekend trip to South Carolina, thinking that since this was one of our few opportunities to go out and do something interesting, I could snap a few fabulous, scintillating pictures along the way and create a lively and lovely photo journal for you all to enjoy.

Because I'm nice like that.

Well, I DID take some pictures. In fact, I took more than one picture. I took several pictures. I snapped away with feverish alacrity and fervent enthusiasm.

The pictures I took will reveal the scope and breadth and depth of our journey. They will uncover the nuances and subtleties of our excursion to our southern sister state. They will make you laugh. They will make you cry. They will move you.


Are you ready?

Now wasn't that worth getting up for this morning? Two versions of the same shower curtain in the same bathroom of the same hotel in the same town of the same state!


I understand that you may now be staring at your computer screen in some consternation and puzzlement. You may be asking, "WHY did Becky feel compelled to take (and post) these pictures? Did her 47-year old brain suddenly take a vacation and leave her without wisdom or common sense? Did she actually think that we, her readers, would find these showers curtains interesting? WHAT is going on here?

Well, here's the scoop. We were in a small southern town staying at a hotel that was clean and comfortable but not real fancy. And because it wasn't an extra fancy place, I was especially impressed when I walked into the bathroom and saw the way they "displayed" their shower curtain; I just couldn't resist taking a picture. And then I just sort of FORGOT about taking more pictures of the weekend, since I was sort of stressed out over the concert, and everything.

So although I DID fall down on my job as Official Smith Photographer and Documenter Extraordinaire of the Official Smith Family Sojourn, you are hereby getting the privilege of viewing a creatively arranged shower curtain. Therefore, I don't want to hear any complaining! Or you will go to your room! Do you understand me, young lady? (Oh sorry. I accidentally put on my "mommy hat" there for a minute.)

Okay, enough about shower curtains. Now we move on to miracles!

(Nothing like a smooth segue.)

As you probably remember, I was quite nervous about doing this concert in SC for two reasons. First, Steve and I have not done a full concert together in seven years and secondly, I haven't been able to sing through even one song recently, let alone seven!

It didn't help matters any that I slept poorly on Saturday night (probably because of anxiety) and woke up Sunday morning with a sore throat. (On top of all the already existing vocal cord issues.) As a result, I was not feeling overly perky or positive when we walked into the church to prepare for the service. The way I was feeling, I figured I'd last maybe a song or two and then we would move on to Plan B.

Oh wait.

We didn't HAVE a Plan B. We only had a Plan A. And Plan A was for a certain Becky Smith to sing the whole concert.

And do you know what? I DID sing the whole concert! I sang Every. Single. Song. (Well, except for Steve's solo.)

Now every note I sang wasn't perfect, and I had to grab a few breaths in places that I didn't used to have to breathe, but all in all, my voice stayed amazingly clear and strong all the way through to the end.

Just so you know how incredible that was, earlier last week I was practicing some of the songs and after singing through just two songs, my throat was on fire and my voice was husky and weak. All I could think was, "I am SUCH a goner."

But on Sunday morning, when people were praying for me and I when I was actually up there singing, my voice held out. And it continued to hold out on the 4-hour trip home so that Steve and I could enjoy lots of laughs and conversation on our journey.

So if you were praying for me yesterday--thank you! It was a great morning in many ways and especially wonderful that Steve and I got to do once more what we're gifted to do.

When we got home last night, we enjoyed a quick meal with the kids. And since Sarah hadn't been feeling well, I was especially glad to get home and do my mommy stuff.

I asked her if she and Nathan had gone to church and she said they hadn't. Our church is about 45 minutes away (round trip) and Nathan wasn't thrilled about using his precious supply of gas to make the journey. (Of course, when Steve and I are home, everyone rides with us and uses OUR gas.)

However, Sarah went on to add that Nathan had prepared a Sunday teaching for her using some of his pictures from Israel displaying where David and Goliath had fought. Nathan had a "sermon" all ready, complete with three points about the life of David. Steve and I agreed that we would have loved to have been a little fly on the wall listening to THAT Sunday morning service. And I'm sure it was a Sunday morning service that Sarah will NEVER forget!

So as I close today, let me reiterate my list of thanks: attractively displayed shower curtains, miraculous vocal strength, and sermon-giving nineteen year olds.

A good weekend, indeed.

Melodious Croaking

I thought you all might be interested to hear about what's going on in our Transitory Transitionary Transition Time.

Steve sent a resume to a church on the coast of South Carolina. The church received a total of a hundred resumes for Senior Pastor and asked three out of the hundred applicants to send them a sermon CD; Steve was one of those three. Whether or not it will go any further than that is anyone's guess but we'll just keep on patiently waiting. (And after six months, we're quite accomplished at that particular skill.)

Also, there is a church near Charlotte (which would be my choice if location were our only criterion) that has asked Steve to come and meet with their Board/Pastor Search Committee tomorrow night. And that's especially good timing because he's already in Charlotte for his mom's surgery.

So at least that's some progress in the right direction. I'll keep you posted if anything else happens.

This weekend, Steve and I are going to a church about six hours away to do their Sunday morning service. Steve will preach and we'll both sing . . . or maybe I should say, Steve will sing and I will do my own patented version of melodious croaking. (I still don't have much of a voice.)

To make the weekend even more challenging, Steve and I haven't done a concert together in seven years, ever since Sarah was diagnosed. (We used to average 180 concerts a year for fifteen years!) We've done one or two songs here and there, but eight or nine songs in a row? Not so much.

The plan is that I will just sing as long as my voice holds out (whether that ends up being half a song or half an hour) and then Steve will have to pull out every solo he's ever known to fill in the gaps.

Just for the sake of a laugh, here's a picture of Steve and I doing a concert a looong time ago, when we did that sort of thing for a living. I was just a couple months pregnant with Sarah in this picture and at that point in the pregnancy, my hair was bigger than my stomach!

I'll let you know how the weekend goes; I'm sure we'll have many memorable moments.

While I'm on the subject of singing, I know I had said a few weeks ago that I would be going to Chapel Hill Medical Center once a week to begin some much needed vocal therapy. However, when we found out how much it would cost for the therapy (even after insurance paid some of it) we realized that this was not the ideal time to be spending that extra money. So that particular plan is on hold.

Singing and public speaking have always been such a big part of my life that not having a reliable voice has been an enormous and difficult adjustment. In fact, it seems like when I think of all the titles that describe me, most of them seem to be preceded by the word "former."

Former singer, former speaker, former teacher, former songwriter, former recording artist, former pastor's wife, etc.

Sitting here in the hallway of life, waiting for my "formers" to be turned into "currents" is a bit of a challenge. But the good thing about hallways is that they are not permanent places; they're meant to walked through. And I am more than ready to walk through this one--and soon!

In the meantime, I will continue to do my melodious croaking and I will continue to write my blogs and eat my chocolate and love my family and learn new lessons in trust, and faith and patience.

All in all, not a bad place to be.