Quirks and all, it was good fun!

Once upon a time, in a small town along the Columbia River Gorge in Northern Oregon, two babies were born, a girl and a boy, five years apart. They joined one older brother and would eventually welcome two more younger brothers, but they were the only two born in The Dalles, and they were my April babies. We lived in The Dalles just six years, so the two of them rather bookended that time period. It was serene and lovely, chaotic and tumultuous, all the things that come with a young and growing family, but my memories are mostly fond, and for sure the best highlights are those two little babies.

Growing up, they did not celebrate their birthdays together. Different genders, and five years apart in age, they had little in common, but now as adults, they are the best of friends and happy to share one birthday celebration! Which is a very good thing, because Isaiah travels for his job well over 50% of the time. It's challenging to find a day when he is in town and everyone else is free.

We gathered last Saturday night at Wicked Peel Pizza Kitchen in Midvale. There were some definite quirks, but the good news is, Shulamith and Isaiah are the chillest people ever, which meant I didn't have to feel anxious that everything went perfectly. 

Quirk #1: When we arrived, they said we could sit at two separate tables, and as soon as customers at another table left, eliminating a fire hazard, we could push the two tables together. That we did...... eventually. It took a while. But it was fine.

Quirk #2: Because this restaurant is still operating in the Dark Ages and serving Pepsi products (ugh!), Shulamith, Amanda, and I stopped at Holliday on the way to fill our Stanleys. But before the server even handed us our menus, she explained that outside drink containers are not allowed in the restaurant. Are you kidding? Fresh fountain Diet Coke in my Stanley, and I had to take it back to my car? We assume this rule is because there is a full bar there, and some Utah law probably prohibits outside containers. But really, not one of us was gonna put a single drop of alcohol into our Stanley. I promise! Why would we ruin perfect Diet Coke with gross alcohol??? Alas, water it was!

Quirk #3: They were out of lots of food: ice cream, deep dish style pizza, and salad. On the surface, that doesn't sound too terrible, but Matt and their kids were planning to eat only ice cream, because Matt has Celiac and can't eat anything else there, and their kids don't like the food there. I was planning to get a salad, so instead I ate one meatball. I don't think anyone was actually planning on deep dish pizza, but if they had been, it was a no go.

After they wouldn't let me bring my Stanley inside, I worried they would be mad at me when I brought in the Nothing Bundt Cake, with candles and singing, but no one yelled at me. Win. And everyone's non-deep dish pizza was great! 

And my April babies were happy, so I was happy. All the birthday love to Shulamith and Isaiah!

"We gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashin'"

"Hello Phoenix! The E-Street Band is here tonight to call upon the power of art, of music, of rock and roll in dangerous times. We are here in celebration and defense of our American ideals, democracy, our Constitution, and our sacred American promise. The America that I know, the America that I've written about for 50 years, is currently in the hands of a corrupt, incompetent, racist, reckless, and treasonous administration. Tonight, we call upon all of you to join us in choosing hope over fear, democracy over authoritarianism, the rule of law over lawlessness, ethics over unbridled corruption, resistance over complacency, truth over lies, unity over division, and peace over war!"

And so the legendary Bruce Springsteen opened his concert Thursday night at the Mortgage Matchup Arena in Phoenix. Arizona. The crowd erupted in cheers of solidarity. 

And I was there to witness it. To participate. To feel. To absorb the energy of hope, the voice of reason, the grace of this incredible performer, unwilling to stay silent, honorable enough to use his platform to spread truth and to proclaim that we can do better, that we must do better.

I had never attended one of his concerts, but it was definitely on my bucket list. As I've noted before in this blog, my not-so-humble opinion is that the 70s was hands down the best decade for music. Ever. Yes, there are talented artists who have come later, and yes, they have written and recorded some really lovely songs. But I will die on this hill: No other decade even comes close to matching the quantity or the brilliance of the artists that blessed us with the music of the 70s.

I have far too many favorites to name them all, but let me share my top three: Elton John, Neil Diamond, and "the boss" himself, Bruce Springsteen. I won't ever get to see those first two perform live again, so I'm profoundly grateful to have seen Elton John twice and Neil Diamond three times. Unfortunately, Neil now suffers from progressive Parkinson's disease and won't be touring again, and  Elton John has chosen to forgo touring in order be home with his husband and their two sons. 

When I heard that Bruce Springsteen was adding an unplanned tour as an act of resistance against our insane president and his loyal minions, I knew I had to go. SLC was not on the tour list, so I looked for the closest city and cheapest airfare, and Phoenix won! Wednesday morning, Gerald and I left the freezing cold wind, and flew down to 83 degree sunshine, palm trees, and so much cacti! It's so big and so cool!

At 7:30 p.m. Thursday night, accompanied by the E-Street Band, 76-year-old Bruce Springsteen took the stage and performed for three solid hours. His energy was bananas! And contagious. But more importantly, his honesty and integrity were palpable. You could just sense it. He didn't sing my favorite, "Tougher Than the Rest," and I didn't think he would; the vibe of the concert was different, and that one wouldn't really fit, but he closed with my second favorite, his rendition of Bob Dylan's "Chimes of Freedom." This one always reminds me of my grandpa. He would have loved that song, and he would have loved Bruce Springsteen. He would have admired his strength and conviction to fight for freedom and protect the underserved and marginalized among us. Cuz that's what he did. 

Grabbin' just a couple stanzas for you here:

"Flashin' for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Flashin' for the refugees on their unarmed road of flight
And for each and every underdog soldier in the night
We gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashin'.

Yeah tollin' for the achin' ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused accused misused strung out ones at worst
And for every hung out person in the whole wide universe
We gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashin'."

I expect Bruce Springsteen will perform for many years still. And I will no doubt see him again. Until then, may we join together in the unity of resistance as we "gaze upon the chimes of freedom flashin'."

"That Love is all there is, Is all we know of Love" - Easter musings.

On the surface, these two lines from poet Emily Dickinson may sound like a spoonful of pathos-dripping soup, but what if they actually express the truthiest truth of all? On occasion, when I've been asked what it means to me to be a theist, one who believes in God, even a God I cannot prove, I've explained my feelings like this: I love my five children; I love them so much. I can't prove that I love them, and yet, it is the surest thing I know, a truth I know better than I know anything else.

For me, it's the same with God. I can't prove God's existence, yet I know it is true. I've felt God's presence and protection. I've felt lifted, carried, nurtured, inspired, seen, heard, cherished, and even (occasionally) directed by God. Most importantly, I've felt loved. 

So when Dickinson proclaims "That Love is all there is, Is all we know of Love," in a spiritual, global sense, I believe her. I'm convinced that if we could fully comprehend the magnitude of God's infinite, universal, radical, love, the result would be not only healing but life-transforming. Now full transparency, I'm not super good at this. I tend to be a "glass half empty" soul, a realist, if you will. Add to that my super hero persona: Anxiety Girl: able to jump to the worst possible conclusion in a single bound! But that's okay with God. Because God holds space for me to be just as I am: fears, flaws and all. God is well aware that mortality is challenging. It's messy and complicated, and sometimes we're left feeling fully broken. But God assures us, in both text and action, that we are not alone in the brokenness. We are not forgotten or judged or punished or shamed. We are only loved. Because Love is all there is. 

Easter reminds us of that constant Love, the hope it brings, the joy it shouts, and the warmth it radiates! I felt all that this past Sunday, as my family gathered for Easter brunch. Gerald and I are lucky! Four of our five kids live nearby and we see them often. But this day was special because we had not only our four local kids, but also their four respective spouses/girlfriends. It was a full house for sure, with 14 of us: ten adults, one teenager, and three kids. Imagine, if you will, the full-on chaos. 

But for this mama, it was beautiful chaos. 

Human memory is faulty. Years from now, when we tell this story of Easter 2026, our individual reflections will differ. One Easter message I heard on Sunday explains it well: "The details change, but the Love remains."

Indeed.