BST's Blog

Wednesday night the band and I played and led "You Are Worthy Of My Praise" (I will worship..."). This morning Maddie was dressed in the top to her Snow White outfit and her skirt was a blue plastic grass hula skirt. She had her tambourine and was slapping it, almost on beat, and singing what she thought were the words to "You Are Worthy of My Praise". Her version, sung with great passion, went like this, "You know-- I love to worship, You know-- I love to praise. You, Lord, I love to worship. You, Lord, I love to praise." Of course she followed that up with a techno version of "I Like to Move It" and "Ice Ice, Baby". I loved it!!

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We're all praying for David today. He had his biopsy at noon. I will let you know results as soon as they are public. Thank you for your prayerful comments yesterday.

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Last night on "Hit Me Baby One More Time" (I watched it while giving Sam a bottle), Howard Jones sang. Wow--did that ever take me back. I loved some Howard Jones music in the 80s. For you Abilene folks, I can never hear him sing without thinking about Kevin Chrane. I know, random.

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I got to go to lunch today with 12 people who are being called into leadership to develop this thing that John Coates is calling "The Nashville Choir". Men like Dave Williamson and David Guthrie were there. Jason McArthur went with me. The vision is pretty cool. He's wanting to hand pick this group from professional and non-professional singers in Nashville. Part of the experience was a walk-through tour of the Schermerhorn Symphony Hall going up. It is amazing. 97 Million dollars worth of construction and special planning. It's supposed to be the best concert hall in the world when it's completed. The dream is to do a concert there with this new group. Seeing the inside was amazing. I even got to wear a hard hat. Yeah, Jason and I were stylin in our hard hats!

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In honor of Father's Day this weekend, I am going to share with you a section or two of a letter that my father wrote me the day I left to tour with Take One at ACU. I had just graduated from High School, but ACU let me represent the University since I had taken the Junior Scholars program the summer before my Senior year of HS. As a parent, it now seems amazing that my own parents released me to travel the country at 18. I'm so glad they did. My dad wrote me this letter on June 18, 1988. It's been almost 17 years to the day. I've kept it close to me for 17 years and read it often. Even seeing his familiar handwriting makes me feel close to him. I hope this doesn't seem too personal. It's just something that means a lot to me. Dads--be sure to write feelings and thoughts down for your kids. We are not guaranteed tomorrow. Miss you, Dad!

Dear Brandon,
You left today on the first leg of leaving home. You can't imagine the void I've felt all day. I thought I had prepared myself for this moment--but now I find that I'm overcome with a flood of memories. I'm exhausted from the constant flashbacks that have gone on in my head all day long. I'll make it through this adjustment time, but I'm not doing so well today. I'm surprised at my reaction, cause I've listened to many of my friends talk about their experienced with empty nest and I've always been able to encourage them with the "right" things to say--and now, today, the right words aren't there for me. For the first time I was able to understand the tears in my mother's eyes when I left home. It's a feeling you can't know until you experience it.

After you left this morning, we came home and tried to stay busy. I worked in the yard, but couldn't get in the mood to really work. I cut down the flowers under your window that had been damaged by hail--but kept thinking how much you liked the flowers and used to cut them and put them on the graves of your pets (ok--this is totally humiliating--and unfortunately, for me, true.)Then I cut off the long rose stems and thought about how you liked for me to keep those trimmed so they wouldn't scratch across your window at night.

I went around to the back yard then, and suddenly, the little mound out toward the camper flashed a memory of your sand box--do you know there is still sand under that mound? I stood looking at it and then up in the mulberry tree where I could see a few boards left from the tree house we made. Remember the night we spent trying to sleep up there?

I walked on back to the barn and inside I could see your go-cart and bicycle. In back of the barn was your old swing set and Tiger's (my horse) cart. I'm seeing all of this through misty eyes--I haven't been brave about this at all. Walking back to the house, the dogs barked and I thought again of all your pets and the weird names you gave them. "Polo" for a dog, has got to be the craziest name I have ever heard--and now, suddenly, it's beautiful.

So much for the yard! Right now I may never work in it again!! I can hardly bear to look at the gazebo without thinking about your senior party.

I came in the house then and told Mom I'd help her change the bedroom furniture around. That turned out to be and all morning-plus-effort. After several trial layouts we finally decided on one that will be a little bit different. At least the room got a good cleaning.

(here he rambles a bit about other activities through the day ending with...)
I got a haircut and came home. It's still bad around here. The apricots don't taste quite as good now, and the house is awfully quiet. It will take a while to get accustomed to it. I'm already looking forward to you being back at ACU and getting to go to the productions you'll be in. I'm very proud of you and I'm really glad you are getting to see the country this summer--it's a terrific opportunity.

I wrote all of this down so you'd know how your dad felt on the day you left. This has been a very long day and it's just 5:25pm now.

We're going with Dave and Ann to the Paramount tonight to see "Fountainhead". That'll help pass the evening away. I'll miss you in your spot at church in the morning, and at lunch when we go out to eat.

I'm not writing this to make you feel bad because this is a natural experience that all parents go through. It's just a chronicle of life and I wanted to share it with you.

God Bless you,
Love,
Dad