Hello friends…it’s been a minute, as they like to say these days.
Thanks for coming back!
To catch those of you up a bit, who find yourself interested… here we go.
In January of this year, I headed south for a few days in order to participate in something called Life Plan. If you have not heard of it, it was founded by a Mr. Paterson. He invented the pin code for the ATM and worked on the design of the Matterhorn ride at Disney, among a few other things. It was a private, 2-day, 8-hours per day one-on-one intensive. I did it in order to get a grasp on these next few years and my plan for retirement, which I have had in my mind to be 2030.
After starting, building, and running a business for the last 14 years, I simply could not get to that appointed year fast enough, but I had no real plan of action in place to prepare the way. I thought Life Plan was the key. So I dove in.
While there, I was dealing with my sweet Laborador retriever, Bosco, who was dying of cancer. Little did I know he would only be with me a few more weeks at the time. I wasn’t sleeping at night, as he would need to get up at all hours and go outside. I obliged willingly as I adored that dog. I cooked for him and for Bailey trying to work with the cancer. Ran the business. And was exhausted. Needless to say, I was not fully functioning during the Life Plan sessions, but I gave it what I could. Sadly, I would lay Bosco to rest within the next two weeks. It was heartbreaking. My buddy of 11.5 years. Gone. Overnight.
Fast forward 6 months. The plans I put on paper with my lovely facilitator, Diedre, seemed miles away. And some of the targeted goals seemed nearly impossible. I had no idea then, that my life was about to fully change. Let alone did I even believe that it could…but it did.
I took on a huge project in my basement in May. The mold issue had come to a head, and it was time to dive in. So, multiple contractors and thousands of dollars later, I am now mold free. One day, during the crazy, I had connected with a contractor who was a concrete floor refinisher. I had left phone and website contact form messages for about 10 contractors. But this one literally called me back within minutes. I was stunned. Not only that, he was willing to come out and look at my space the next morning! If you are doing any remodel or reconstruction, you know that’s basically unheard of these days. It was early June, and everyone with whom I had spoken was booked out until August. He was willing to squeeze me in.
The morning came, and he arrived as planned. Another miracle. But the odd thing was when he asked out of the blue,
“Do you play piano?” It took me a moment, and I scrounged out a bewildered, “yes.” Within minutes, he had me on speaker phone under my car port talking with someone named Bob, who was at some presbyterian church and needed a pianist. Before I could get my bearings, I had agreed to visit his church that coming Sunday. When my brain stopped spinning and I gained a bit of my senses, I knew I was in trouble. If you are a musician, you know how those things go. One thing leads to another and you are trapped…and for what seems to be — life!
As he headed out to his truck, (happy with his making a connection for Bob) he then asked, “Do you sing?” I have to admit at this point I was completely off kilter and I obviously responded in the affirmative. Because he immediately launched into telling me to show up at his house that night, it was gonna be great, let him know what I planned to sing, some guy who would be playing at the Opry next week would be there, and then I should come up to the house afterwards for dinner. With that…he was off. (For those of you who find this type of scenario odd, it is actually very “Old Nashville”) I just stood there in the hot driveway trying to figure out what just happened. I wanted a quote for my concrete floors, and found myself with 2 musical invitations lying at me feet. i simply stepped over them, turned back towards the house—and returned to my office. [For those of you who are curious, I did end up going, grudgingly, and it was a great night.]
Now you may be thinking, “It’s Nashville. You’re a musician. What’s with the stunned and grumpy reaction here?” Well, I will tell you.
I honestly thought my days of music had packed up and moved to another continent. Years ago. I literally had not sung a word. Nor had I touched the piano in my basement. For years. And I saw nothing changing that. A friend had even pointed out recently that there was no music even in my house or my car. She was right. And I really didn’t have a good answer. As for me. It was all but dead. Died years ago, and with no hope of a resurrection in any way shape or form.
Interestingly, after my Life Plan, I did follow up on one of my goals and try to get my single Redneck out of the closet and into someone’s hands. I have always believed it needs a good home. The right home. And so I had called a professional. I was pleased when he gave me a huge thumbs up to move forward. So I guess there was that. But the rest would be leg work. Real work.
Fast forward to my walking into the door of that presbyterian church on that June Sunday. For those who can imagine…yep…it happened. I am now not just the pianist, I am the official Minister of Music for the church. It wasn’t my plan. I certainly didn’t ask for it. I hadn’t been seeking it. But it came. Hard. Fast…but oh so easy.
Why? The people. Walking into that church that morning it was comfortable. The people were welcoming. Real. Friendly. Happy. I wasn’t prepared for that. One thing let to another, and I realized this was a path I needed to walk. Ready or not. And I had to lean on the Lord to make it work. Make it happen. And stay the course.
So, I guess I have a new journey to share with you in the coming days. You will hear stories about my new ventures, my new sweet friends and community, and my renewed love of music and my service of worship.
If you’re still with me at this lengthy juncture, all I can say is, thank you. And I’d sure appreciate your prayers.
Good days ahead.
See you soon,
Stephanie