Pregnant With Work

The in-betweens of work are the most frustrating. The times when there's no breeze to catch in the sails and you've just got to row it out over the bland calm between the trade winds. I've been working at this album for more than a few months now, finding time to truck a one-man-band up to Sevierville in a car that can't take much more stuffing. It seems that every time I turn around, something has interrupted the work. No money. No studio. No producer. No money. No money. No equipment. No computer. The list rolls out like a government deficit. And whenever I play a song for someone, they're always asking, "Do you have a cd?"

No, I answer, and I seem to hear some disembodied voice laughing emptily as I stand there like the kid who didn't get picked to play kickball. "But I'm working on one!" I add hopefully, thinking that maybe the very speaking of those words will bring this journey to some fruition. Again, the voice laughs.

"God doesn't want you to record a cd. You're being selfish. This whole thing is all about you."

Okay, maybe so. God, how can I make it not about me, so I can accomplish it?

"I've told you, he doesn't want you to do it. In fact, this whole music thing is far to dangerous for someone like you who is so easily enamored with himself. You should quit."

But he gave me these gifts. You made this possible, Lord, so why stop with the possibles now?

"You know you could get a lot of money for those guitars and that piano and all that. Pay off student loans, car payments, credit cards. God wants you to be out of debt, too."

Damn, I wish that voice would go away sometimes. Okay, all the time. Assurance is most certainly a divine quality, and doubt a human one. I'm starting to feel like I might understand pregnant women a little, who spend nine months fighting, hoping, struggling, wishing, and crying, just to be the vessel of one miracle. Let's be honest, their experience is a little more flesh-and-blood than mine, but you get the picture. I'm starting to wonder if this recording is ever going to happen. And if it does, am I ever going to want to do this again? I know that I'll never be able to say 'No'. When you are given something to bring to life, as a shadow of the One who gives life, can you really say no? I would die with the effort of trying to keep it in. I'm not the best steward of these things, but I can't keep them silent.

God bless my family for being so supportive in all this, always asking, always encouraging, and paying out the wazoo to help. That's right, the wazoo. I hope I don't run out of steam to keep hope in the engine before this is over.

Oh, and while we're talking about albums, you should go out and buy all of Andy Gullahorn's right now. There are three. If I had the money, it's what I would do.