Over the last month we have added almost 8000 miles to the odometer on our cars. From Nashville to Minnesota to Washington to California to Oklahoma to Texas back to Nashville…but just for a day…then onward ho! to North Carolina we go.

Last time we updated you, we were enjoying the sunny skies of California. Today we find ourselves winding through the mountains of eastern Kentucky. Beautiful to be sure. Also dark and melancholy, as the early morning fog greets you with a wet kiss at the door. So what happened between then and now?

After setting off on an early morning from CA we watched the sun beat down the deserts of Arizona. Our expectation was to allow the monotonous hours of sand roll on by, but a happy surprise awaited us. About lunch time, Scott, our jazz loving sound engineer received news that his mom, Joanne, and her hiking partner and friend, Bob were but a few hours away at the Grand Canyon. Now here I must admit, shameless though it be, that despite many trips from the east to west coast, we had never stopped to see the Grand Canyon, though it is only an hour off the interstate. Discovering friends close at hand, we threw our schedule to the wind and headed off road, excited to be headed to one of the greatest natural wonders of the world.

Now here I must pause. Thinking back, I am, once again, struck by the beauty and wonder of all we have seen. And yet I would like to point out the oddity of much of our modern vocabulary when we use terms like “natural wonder” or even “natural disaster” A natural wonder? Meaning something miraculous happened naturally. The term smacks to me of some propagandized sugar coated vitamin, fed my elementary-schooled mind while watching Bill Nie – The Science Guy. Instead I recognize that we were blessed to witness creation – the specific intention of our Creator.

That being said, a few hours later, we found ourselves shivering under our jackets and snapping pictures that seemed destined never to grasp the awesome spectacle we beheld.  The Grand Canyon is truly beyond words, pictures, or even my own two eyes. I was able to take in the drop off beside me, and the rock formations on either side, but the cliffs on the other side of the canyon seemed about as real as a painting. Or, though coarse to say, a fake backdrop from an old movie.  The sun was going down, and we watched the colors change from sand to salmon, from rust to red, and from smoke to sable.

As darkness enveloped us, we headed down the road to meet up with Joanne and Bob. Their day had been spent hiking around the Canyon and we were all hungry. With stomachs full of corn chowder and apple pie, we lumbered around enjoying our companionship, the happiness of the day, and talking, talking, talking.

Now we are always talking, but in the days prior to the election we talked till we were sick of our own talking. We talked to God. We talked while we listened to talk radio. My Grandpa would have said we, “Cussed and discussed.” Don’t worry now. It’s an expression, no reality in the former, only in the latter.

I have always been aware of the feeling given by something that is imminent. To anyone who has experienced the hovering sensation one feels while watching High Noon, counting down the days till Christmas, or praising God that the baby is finally coming, you know what I am talking about. To be imminent insinuates an underlying power, whether for evil or for good. Election day is the ultimate culmination of that reality.

So on November 4, driving along those barren highways, wondering at the irony of welfare dumps pressed up against some of God’s most amazing creations, we felt the full effect of the clash in heaven and our own impotence in the struggle. Futility was the word of the day.

As darkness covered the sky, and night rested upon our hearts, we were unable to handle the barrage of radio commentators and, like hobbits, we searched for songs to remind us of the times of old.

Praise Him all His mighty works
There is no language where He can’t be heard
Our song goes out to all the earth
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
came the soft voice of Chris Rice. A comforting thought.

Paradise has up and flown away for now
But hope still breathes and truth is always true
And just when we think it’s almost over
Love has the final move
Love has he final move
“You hope love has the final move.” I thought. Only to hear the spirit within me reprimand my cynicism. But of course we had just come from Sacramento, ironically crowned the town of “Sacrament”, only to see the sacrament of marriage defaced on every street corner by those whose militant ill-will taunted behind signs for equality in love. Love? Somehow Forrest Gump’s declaration to his childhood love, Jenny, found my thoughts “ I know what love is.” Definitions can be tricky, but I guess love isn’t defined by what it is but Who it is.

So I thought back to all the churches, school, and conferences, all the faces and stages I have visited over the last 7 years, and asked God if we were really as weak as it seemed. Then another song came over the speaker, Who am I that the Lord of all the earth would choose to know my name … I wondered what it mattered if He knew our names if we didn’t know His. Then, as a new track flowed, Casting Crowns came belted out,

What if His people prayed?
 And turned from their own ways
And they would to seek His face…
At that moment I didn’t want to know what would happen if we prayed, I wanted to know if we were really His people at all.

With the election sting still fresh, we found compassion in the living room of our Grandma and Grandpa’s home in Oklahoma City. While we made pumpkin pie and ate pumpkin pie, we  watched Camille exercise and wished we had her discipline. Family served to cheer us up, and  gratitude brushed away our melancholy. The words of Mr. Bennet in Pride and Prejudice come to mind. “For once in my life I am heartily ashamed of myself. I am not afraid of being overwhelmed by the impression. It will pass soon enough, and probably faster than it should.” Pass it did and within a day or two we were on our way to cowboy country.

Dallas is the home of the Daystar Network, and we were expected there bright and early for an all day taping of a Christmas special. The stage was setup beautifully. We performed music from our new album This Glorious Christmas, laughed over the interview segment, and geared up for our newest adventure, a cooking segment three generations deep with my Grandma Jane, Mama, and the three Wolaver girls.

In retrospect, I see God’s mighty hand preparing me with all those hours of Food Network programming I have watched We were making 2 family recipes, Pecan Pie, and Annie Moses’ famous Angel Food cake. We were all a little nervous going in, but once we got going it was just like cooking in the kitchen. The producers of the show said we were naturals and should consider a cooking show. We were all relieved and happy to be so lauded. So watch out Paula Dean! Look out Rachael Ray! And ya’ll keep an eye out for the special to be aired the Monday before Christmas.

We made our way home for a day and then headed up to North Carolina. I’ve been thinking about what to cook for Thanksgiving dinner, and enjoying the fall colors. We are in the throws of planning for next years FASA, and there are more details to come on that subject! But overall we are enjoying each other and trying to keep our heads above a busy schedule.

In our southern terminology, one would say over the past few weeks I have been figurin’ and fixin’ and frettin’. And though I don’t know what forces are at work, I see that much is at stake, and I am not so naive as to believe that Sauron will never come after the Shire. So, like the hobbits, I am off on an adventure! Happy to walk in the Light. Happy to know the Truth. Happy to know He is love. Happy to sing His songs and to gather round His table. Happy to love and be loved in return.