Blogtober #31 Short Story Part 3

    The boy stood transfixed for a moment, but then realized that he couldn't hold his eyes still long enough on His face. Something like guilt rose from within, and he felt suddenly ashamed, about everything and nothing specifically. The boy just realized he was so far from being worthy of being here, on this night, while his Savior was being born down the road and also appearing before Him even now. 

    The first question the boy felt brave enough to ask before any other was an honest one, "Did I mess up history? I just wasn't sure if I should answer the shepherds with more than pointing in case I told them something I shouldn't." The Voice spoke, not to usher all of creation, nor to judge it, that would come later, but to give a gentle answer, "No, my dear boy, this was for you, not them. This is what's past, and what's past can't be undone by going back, but by what is to come."  While it seemed to answer the question, the boy thought of something else and blurted out, "Wait, this is for me?! But why!?"

    The one who made the stars and called them by name simply looked at the boy. And the boy, who was only really very good at making mistakes, just looked back at Him. Something stirred when their eyes met, and something unsaid was heard inside of him, as loud and as real as the wind in his ears now. Yes, for you. To experience this moment. To feel the night air and the excitement. This is to help you see me clearer, to know me better!

    All at once, the thousands upon thousands of questions he carried just dissipated, like the marine layer around noon. In this moment, he just took this all in. This night, in this town, and His Savior standing before him. He could see the shepherds he ran into find the child and saw them kneeling there, celebrating the One born to take all sins and shame. No more ritual sacrifices. No more trying to eradicate the space that took up connection between the Holy and the mundane, the incomplete and the perfected, the hungry and The Bread of Life. The Creator stepped into creation to complete it. To satiate its longing for more, its desire to belong and to be known. This night, though, was just the beginning, and so is this boy's story, as is ours. 

Blogtober #30 Short Story Part 2

     He noticed the missing sidewalk before anything, but eventually realized the park, houses, the stoplights, and in fact all the lights of his neighborhood were just...gone. Well, all the lights, that is, except for the fires he saw in the distance. Little campfires, seemingly unattended in the distance. Being 15 and out past dark wasn't out of the question for him, but these questions he had and the fact that he no longer could see his, or any other, house for miles was a little worrisome for him. So, he decided that since he couldn't find his house, he might as well search for some answers. He decided to proceed to the nearest campfire to see if he could get any answer about what had happened.

    He turned to walk towards the closest campfire, which was about what would normally be about 3 blocks, he noticed that without lights and houses, nothing looked right, or at least nothing looked like it used to, like he wasn't even in his hometown anymore. Even as the thought was entering his mind, he could hear movement off to the right of the campfire he was aiming at. The movement seemed like pounding earth. He was preparing to run away when his eye caught sight of something small and... fluffy? Like a cottonball with legs and a face. He trotted over to see this thing, this creature. Within a few steps, this creature was simply a sheep, well, a whole pen full of them, maybe a dozen or so. The sheep were not interested in him at all, though they might have been if they could see him. But they didn't. Their eyes, along with their hearts, seemed to be fixed ahead of them. He could see it too, torches bouncing in the distance, connected only to disembodied arms, because of the surrounding darkness.

    The arms actually were connected to men who were walking with some excitement away from the sheep pen and headed into a group of smaller buildings that could have been a town, not the boy's, but still a town. Maybe the group knew what was happening, or maybe they knew more than he did, and he was really hoping for answers. He started to sprint, then quickly changed his mind because he worried that he would frighten the group or that they might not be welcoming to some kid running towards them in the dark.

    He approached the small group to ask if they knew why everything got dark so quickly, or if they might know where all the houses, lights, park and others went. It was then that he noticed something else that was strange, as if there weren't enough strange things at this moment. These men were wearing ancient-looking robes and had a traditional shepherd's staff from the first century. He thought this had to be some sort of trick or possibly a group headed to a dress-up party in that town down the way. While this was running through his mind, and he was running up to them, they noticed him. They must have thought something about him was strange to them, but almost at once the look disappeared, and they started asking him questions before he could get to his own.

    One asked, "Please, you must know where the child is!" Oh, maybe this was a search party for a lost child... Just then another asked, "Are you here to tell us about more signs? More than a child in the feeding trough, wrapped in swaddling cloths. Which remind us all of the flatbread without the typical starter to make it rise or puff-up during the Passover meal, and that we heard about in temple. The first Passover, the dough was carried in kneading troughs, wrapped in cloths, and carried on shoulders."

    The boy just stared blankly. Are they talking about Jesus? Are they doing a reenactment of the first Christmas? It wasn't even near Christmas!  He was just about to ask them his first question when another of the men commented, "You must be here to tell us something else! Why else are you here?!" All the boy could do was realize he wasn't in his hometown anymore, but His, the very night He was born. Not sure how, not sure why, but he was here. So, he simply pointed toward the town, the little town, and they ran with all their might as they left the boy standing there, just wondering about all he saw and what it could possibly mean. 

    After the group had departed, the boy decided sitting was a better option. Less likely a chance of him passing out or vomiting, which he was sure would happen any moment now. As he started to sit, he thought if he were to lose any lunch, maybe being on his knees would be a better option. The moment his knees touched dirt, the brightest light he'd ever seen came into his field of vision. As he looked up to see where the light was coming from, he realized it was from this man standing directly in front of him. Too terrified to speak, the boy simply bowed his head, more like a duck-and-cover position.

    With a voice as sweet as sugar, but as powerful as the churning of many waterfalls, said simply, "No need to scream, nor fear!" And then said, "Rise." So he did, with some difficulty, while staring at a lighted fellow. His knees didn't know the meaning of stillness, as they attempted to support his full weight. The boy's eyes teared up, without really knowing the reason. The missing house, lights..hometown, weren't the real reasons, though they played a part. Something deeper within felt like he was seeing something that he felt he missed, but also felt he never knew, not really. It was a flavor of missing something or someone one has never known. 

Blogtober #29 Short Story part 1

     He was only 15 years old, not old enough to drive, but old enough to be alone. Like today, like most days. This particular day, he was alone in an open field near his house. While he lived in a very populated area of Southern California, there were still pockets of open fields untouched, or at least recently untouched, by human hands. He came out here often. He liked to watch the nature that went typically unnoticed. He liked the wind blowing his hair, the feeling of walking up a small hill that felt like a mountain. It was as if he accomplished something every time he reached the summit, even though it wouldn't count as much to anyone else. 

    This day, when he summited, he did what he did most days when he reached the summit, stopped to take a 360-degree look around him. He took in the sights, the sounds, the effort that was made to get him here. Standing on top of this dirt mound, surrounded by dry brush and hidden animal life all around, he felt lonely, but not disconnected. A type of connected solitude. That may have more to do with his relationship with God than his relationship to others. He liked being out here to listen to God in general and also what He was saying to him specifically. Today it seemed strangely quiet on that front. Though there was a sense that something was drawing him to the hill across the way. He'd been there before, even named the hill Dark Leg, after the tarantula he saw there the first time he visited. Again, today it felt different. 

    He made his way over to Dark Leg as he was instructed by his innards. Each step made him draw a breath even deeper than the last. Was he excited, scared? He wasn't sure if it was either. He just felt strange. The sun, he noticed, was dipping under the previous hill, creating a halo around the cactus family gathered near the top, where he had just been. The last step brought him to the hillside. Here it was even more silent, with less animals around. With the last step something also seemed to change all around him. 

    All at once it seemed darker than it had been just the second before. In this moment, it was more than a fold of darkness that ran the height of the large mound, it was now all-encompassing. The darkness that seemed to come from nowhere straddled not only him but the hillside. He decided this was more than just a little strange and started back to his house at quite a brisk pace, not exactly a run, as he wouldn't be able to keep it up all the way back. There were still the two hills to get back to and then the long walk back to the house on the sidewalk path. 

    He was still confused by the sudden darkness, but as he crested the final hill, he was even more confused that the lights from the other houses and nearby park weren't lit up either. He really couldn't make out anything this far out in the darkness, but he knew the way up the sidewalk path that led back to his house. But when he arrived at where it should be, which usually landed him within 300 yards of his home, he saw nothing but a few crackling fires in the distance. No homes, no park, no people, no sidewalk path...just those few campfires in the distance. 

Blogtober #28 29 Years

 Today is the 29th anniversary of my older brother's death from the rare heart and lung disease that also took my younger brother and father. The same disease that my sister and I have. It's weird to think that my brother has been with the LORD longer than he was here on earth. He lived to be 24 years old, so 5 years beyond how long he lived. I will soon be over twice his age when he passed away. I miss my brother, as I'm sure his wife and daughter do as well! But just like with my dad, I missed things when he was alive, too. When I went to a school in Colorado, I didn't know that when I said goodbye to my brother and gave him a hug, it would be the last hug I'd give him this side of eternity. When he told me he was sick over the phone and wasn't sure about the outcome, I didn't really honor his fear in that moment, not that it matters 29 years later, but in that moment I could have been there for him better! I also think of my own mortality and what, if anything, I leave behind, besides my wife and child, of course (and this blog haha). When my youngest brother died in '83 at the age of 4, I think my whole family started to think this way. That there are things we do every day that matter and there are things that don't, sometimes it has been difficult to tell which is which. I have had difficulties being a good friend through the years because of all this. I have struggled with having and maintaining friendships; sometimes I hang on too long to a friend who doesn't want to be, or I don't give enough attention to those who do. At the core of it though, I want to have good friends, and I want to be a good friend. I'm not saying that those who are my friends aren't good, by the way, no, they are awesome, and I'm thankful to all of them! I guess I'm thinking about the idea of leaving a legacy. My hope is that I'm instilling in my son the ability to see things with an eternal perspective because this life is ultimately fleeting. Not without the idea of doing what you can with while you can, but also knowing that money or fame or accolades aren't what makes your time valuable. It's like with gems and precious metals, it's the rarity that makes them valuable. It is a delicate balance between thinking that the few moments that we exist, in the context of eternity, is barely a blip, the bible calls it a mist: one sec here and the next we are gone. In the 29 years that my brother has been gone, there has been so much life, but even within that life and life since his passing, it's like the blink of an eye. 

Blogtober #27 Ducks Game

 We went to a Ducks game this evening. It was a fun game to watch, even if I don't know much about the game. There was a free giveaway of Ducks hats. We were all hoping for a hatrick on the ice. Because the Ducks scored 5 goals, everyone got a free Chicken Sandwhich from Chick-Fil-A! That part I do understand! It was a lot of fun to see Karla in her happy place, despite the loss in overtime. It was also great seeing an old friend and his wife there! Here's a picture of us at the game with our hats!

Blogtober #26 The Visual Cooking Lab with Karla

 Today Karla and I finished uploading the first 4 videos for her YouTube Channel, The Visual Cooking Lab With Karla, along with an intro and promo. I'm hoping that it reaches the right audience! I'm looking forward to all the other videos that will be posted over the next several weeks. Tomorrow the intro and first promo will be available to see on YouTube (
www.YouTube.com/@TheVisualCookingLabWithKarla). Please check it out and let us know what you think!!

Blogtober #25 The 5th, well 25th

 Today we visited Karla's dad in the hospital because he fell and possibly sprained his leg. He will have to get physical therapy to recover, something he's not excited about doing. At church today the sermon was about honoring your parents and I think Karla did a great job at this! At one point her dad looked like he was trying to stay awake for our benefit, but also seemed really tired. So, we pretended to fall asleep for about 3 seconds, but that was all he needed, permission to sleep. So, he did. We stayed for a while to keep him company, but about 30-45 minutes later we thought we'd say goodbye and let him rest more. He was able to awake from his rest to say goodbye, but also seemed able to go back to sleep easily enough. 

Blogtober #24 Evolving Narrative

Tell Me Your Story is evolving from just a friendship that needs realignment to realizing the person who changed or moved was most likely me. When writing the song I was imagining a restoring of a friendship because someone decided to step away, but through the evolving of this song it's turned into me having a conversation with God and wondering where He's been, when it was I who moved, not Him! As the song is evolving so are the ideas of the instrumentation, and I'm enjoying this process of change to express the song, hopefully in a deeper, more compelling way. I guess we will see when it's finished.

Blogtober #23 Joy to Come!

 So far, I have 2 songs scratched tracked out of 10. I'm really looking forward to the recording process to perfect the idea I have in part currently. I look forward to the completed song with all the parts I can't even imagine at this moment. I wonder if this is like how God Almighty looks at his creation, without the wonder of "what it be like when it's complete" because He knows the ending from the beginning. I wonder if this a small glimpse into His creative process and He allows us to enjoy in it too. We get to enjoy at the wonder and mystery of it all! There are times that it's difficult to find joy in the mundane and there are other times that it's inescapable! It's all a part of this existence and we all get to enjoy all of it from the wonder of it all to the completed parts we have yet to enjoy. I still long for the day and look forward with all His energy and strength!

Blogtober #22 More Than Just Snickers

 Today I was thinking about how the first person to pass away in my life that I knew was my great-grandfather, Johnny Mac. I didn't know him very well, but I always liked visiting him and my great-grandmother, Lydia. My great-grandmother always seemed to have a beer in her hand, whether she was drinking it or not. My great-grandfather seemed to always have a smile on his face, whether he really did or not. Now these were my mother's grandparents on her mother's side. The ones on her father's side died before I was born, though my great-grandmother on my mom's father's side is the one who made me my baby blanket, parts of which I still have. I knew my mom's parents fairly well, though my grandfather on my mom's side didn't talk to me too much, but I loved hearing his stories, whether he was talking to me or others nearby. My dad's father, I only met him twice, and both times he had Snickers in his place and offered me one. Typically, when offered a candy by an adult, I would take one and only one. However, with my grandfather on my father's side, I took a couple. It was my way of getting back at the man who hurt my father, grandmother, and all my aunts on my father's side. What I remember most is how frail he looked how quiet he spoke. In all the stories I heard of him through the years, quiet was not the word, nor was frail, and yet right in front of me was this tiny man, who I knew just about nothing about, never heard a story from his lips uttered to my ear, whether he talked to me or others. The only stories I've ever heard were from those he hurt. My dad could be a tough man, a strong father, but even when I pushed every button I could find with a few I invented, he never laid a hand on me to hurt me. He gave me plenty of hugs and words of affirmation. My grandfather gave me 2 things: my father and Snickers, a candy bar. That was the only sweetness I ever heard him give. I'm not making comments that say that is all he was, but that's all that I know, all that he was to me.  I don't know all the stories from all my grandparents. I would have loved to talk to them more. I would have loved to share with them more, but what I do have I hold close. It's really those things that live on inside of me, inside of my other family members. One day someone else might write a story or a post, that maybe no one else will read about me. I hope there is more to say about me than, "He offered me Snickers a couple of times." 

Blogtober #21 Scratch Tracks #1

 Yesterday I laid down the scratch tracks for Tell Me Your Story. I'm excited to actually record all of the instruments! Recording the music helps me to figure out some different places to go with the song, that couldn't be done if I just played it in my room. I have some interesting harmony ideas for some of the vocals. I'm sure this isn't very exciting to anyone else but me, but seeing how I'm the only one truly reading this, I gotta keep it real or at least interesting enough for me. If there is someone else besides me reading this, my apologies and thank you for sticking it out!

Blogtober #20 Goodbye Sunrise

 Goodbye Sunrise

by Karla Wojciechowski

I’m not interested in seeing the sun rise
I’d rather wake later, so I still close my eyes
Sunrise is peace, sunrise is calm
I’m just interested in drinking a coffee bomb

Chorus:

I’m not a morning person
Stay out of my way
I’m not a joy to be around
Before I drink café

For those who arise with the sun
I’m happy for you, honestly
Don’t try to put your “joy” on me,
We’re different, for me it’s misery

The good Lord created the start of the day
He also created me a certain way
Don’t wake this sweet princess until at least,
8am or she will be a full beast

Bridge?

Let me sleep, let me sleep
I love you too much to be a she-beast
For the love of God, just let me sleep

These are the lyrics Karla wrote for Caleb and I, and we will have to set it to music of our choosing. I'm looking forward to the process, though I don't have a particular starting point. 

Blogtober #19 2 songs written

 I finished writing a song, though I still need bridge lyrics. This took about 30 mins to scribble out, but it already feels like a completed song even though it's not! Karla was able to provide lyrics to the song she agreed to provide lyrics for. Caleb and I just have to provide the musical backing for it! I'm really looking forward to doing that! Thanks for being a part of this weird writing journey this month, though I'm pretty sure it's just me reading and writing these haha! If you have read them up to this point, please say so in the comments, like I am still here or something, just for my benefit. Thank you, everyone (or 1)!

Blogtober #18 Tell Me Your Story song mapping

 Song mapping "Tell Me Your Story". It was a book title about telling one's story of their life that inspired this one. I'm thinking the song will be about that at first, but will shift. The chorus can have the title in it, but it will shift from the idea that it starts with. I haven't thought about the journey yet...so here are my raw ideas. 
First it's starts with the title as a question Can you tell me your story? Then maybe it moves to a recall from the past of when someone told them their story and maybe it ends with the idea of telling The Story of all things, with the emphasis on telling your story. Obvisously this is just a rough outline of the song but that is the idea at the moment

Blogtober #17 Friends

Throughout the bible there are a few occasions that stick out to me as far as good friends to have around. One of the many examples are three guys named Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. Within the lines of scripture they speak as if one. These guys were so hard to separate that others weren't sure who said what, so it was recorded as "they said..." or "they replied...". These guys worshiped God together and were willing to die together as one because of Whom they put their trust. They knew God could rescue them. They knew He was capable but they also knew that He didn't have to. They also knew that even if they died, that God was still in charge, so it was wise to listen to Him as to what was right and not to those who threatened to kill them. I want friends like this, who trust with the very fabric of their being, whether it gets them killed or not

Blogtober #16 Dad's birthday

 Today is my father's birthday. He would have been 79 years old today! It's weird to think about because my dad died when he was 59 years old, 20 years ago this coming April (2027). There are things I miss about having my father around. There are things that he has missed also, like his grandson and his daughter-in-law. I know that he would have gotten along with both!! While there are lots of things I miss about him being here there are some things I missed while he was still here. He was diagnosed with Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension in his mid 40's and we all thought he only had weeks to live, because that's how long my little brother lived after his diagnosis of this "rare" disease. It was difficult to go on walks and hikes after he was diagnosed, which is something I did almost daily in the hills near my house. At the time I was frustrated with what I thought was my dad just making excuses when he was suffering and doing his best. I'm glad that he hasn't had to suffer any longer and that he's fully well and I'm sure he's looking forward to his perfect body that won't give out! Until then, some of us still count the days and years that would have been, while still looking forward to what is!

Blogtober #15 Ramblings of Hurt

 Today I was reminded of a lot of opportunities that I have had over the years to play at churches as a drummer, guitar player, and pianist. Some of the times I can't even recall how I was requested to play there. I think of how I've been the worship leader on many church and school campuses and have been able to lead God's people in worship through song. I had the rare pleasure of being able to put an album together of the songs, the way we played them at that church, for the church to enjoy on the go.  

So, as I play about once a month at my church as a pianist and every Sunday as the worship leader for the 4th-6th graders, it is difficult to keep in mind all the time that has gone by. When I first started going to the church of my own choice, the thing that drew me in was the fact that the church had a drum set for the junior high and high school groups. It makes me sad that now there aren't really drums for that age group and that they don't have kids involved on the worship team to be able to help lead their peers. Sometimes I wonder if it's a matter of opinion or just a way for others to have control over them as the reason it's not the case today. The irony of the thing that brought me into the church is now the thing that is missing. Though if I'm truly honest, it wasn't the drums but The Spirit that brought me in. So, it makes me wonder if those in charge of those sacred places are relying more on presentation, performance, and (over)planning rather than The Spirit. I wonder if there just isn't any room for The Spirit to move, not that He could be kept out, but that He's not exactly welcomed in because it's not entirely convenient to be placed on God's timing. But, isn't that a part of submitting to His will...waiting on Him? I feel like sometimes leadership is trying to split the difference between God's timing and their own, all while stating it's better to wait on Him, but not really showing how they are doing it in real time. It feels like if there's ever a place where they have to choose between trusting and looks, they err on the side of looks, meaning the way it will look or come across to others rather than how it will look to their LORD and Saviour. 

I have a frustrating day, and I'm making broad, sweeping generalities about things I'm seeing from those in some leadership positions. As a whole, I like what my local church is doing, but also see some areas of improvement. I think the most difficult thing I struggle with is the area of trying to help others feel like they have a home and belong, all the while feeling like an outsider who doesn't seem to live up to some standard that isn't even recommended in the bible at all. The other thing I struggle with is, how much of this struggle is due to me and my bad attitude and/or poor perspective. Maybe the things I'm seeing have nothing to do with my perception of leadership but rather my own inadequacies, and I'm projecting my issues on them. Maybe my lack of belonging has less to do with others and more to do with me. I have been praying for discernment to know the difference. I don't want to be quick to place blame, no matter how easy. I don't feel like God is giving me permission to go after anyone or to try and change anything in particular, which is what gives me pause as to where this sense is coming from. Today's entry is a ramble about how I'm hurt, but I'm not sure if someone/something hurt me or I just hurt myself. 

Blogtober #14 Christmas Tune

 I've always wanted to write a Christmas song, because it's one of my favorite holidays and because God condescending into His own creation is the real miracle, the real magic of the holiday. While I know Christ most likely wasn't born in December, but probably nearer to Spring, I love the idea of celebrating the light coming into the world at the time when the world is at its darkest, or nearest the darkest time of year. The creation met its Creator face to face where the animals ate their food! This isn't just some weird detail. Jesus the Christ was born in a place called Bethlehem, which means "House of Bread." He is known as the bread of life and made reference to how He is the sustenance that was provided in the desert, the daily bread. In the first Passover, when the children of Israel were escaping Egypt, they took the bread without yeast (yeast representing sin because it too puffs up) in kneading troughs, wrapped in clothes and slung them over their shoulders. The sinless one was also wrapped in clothes and put into a trough to one day be our permanent passover offering. The blood on the lintel and doorposts reminds me of the bloodstains on the wrists and head for the One that takes all of our sins to allow us to be safe through His blood, but none of that happens if The Bread of Life wasn't placed in a feeding trough at the house of bread those 2,000+ years ago! 

So, depending on the speed and tone of the song I write, it will depend on where I start to tell the story of the Creator, King of the Universe, who was born to be our life-giving bread and to offer us a way to enter into His home because of the cleansing of our sin through his blood...through blood/wine and body/bread.

Blogtober #13 Song Mapping

 Today I think I'm going to write about song mapping. It's like creating a storyboard or a map for a song, reminding the writer of where they ultimately want the song to go. I go through the idea of one of the songs I've already written at the end of the post.

Not everyone uses it; I don't always use it when I'm writing a new song, but it helps when you have an idea for a song but aren't sure where to start lyrically. It's also great to refer back to when struggling to figure out where the song should go from the part of the song that is stuck. I think in the coming days I might map out some songs that I still need to write for the Album Contest. 

When I was trying to write the song Unbreakable I only had the song's title and a roadmap in my head. I wanted to start with the narrator's experience and immediately transfer the events to his spouse. The choruses I wanted to change depending on where the song was or who it was that had been the voice in the song. The Bridge I wanted an epic battle idea, but changed my mind to a quiet firmness in the discovery of strength. I wanted the ending of the song to be the resolve, the breath of the song as well as the only time the title was said! That is what song mapping looks like to me. It's something I can come back to when writing out the lyrics and it feels clunky or confusing.

Blogtober #12 List of Songs

 Here are the songs (so far) that will be included on the album due in June 2027 (not in any particular order):

1) Well Done & Welcome Home

2) Unbreakable

3) I'm Still Here

4) Fully Wide

5) (Until I'm)With You

6) Goodbye Sunrise (Karla's Lyrics/My Tune)*

7) Christmas Tune *

8) Tell Me Your Story*

9) Cover #1 (Possibly Six Feet/Santeria Island Style)

10) Cover #2 (one of Caleb's Songs)

Possible Extra-

11) Cover of THEM by PFR

12) The Mess

13) Split*

14) Glass*

*To be written still/completed