Tag Archives: Seattle

July 15, 2009 · 6:00 AM

House of Worship

I will be the first to admit that the Coldplay concert on July 11 was epic. It was intense, beautiful and incredibly well done. Best of all, it was the only concert I have ever experienced that filled me with an indescribable joy from start to finish. The music was euphoric; even their more somber songs were played with an air of triumph. I have never seen anything like it.

I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but I was ecstatic the entire set – literally jumping up and down for hours. From the moment they entered the stage, I started screaming and bouncing at the sight of my favorite band. Seeing them at The Gorge was ideal – it’s been named the best outdoor concert venue in the US, and that’s no exaggeration. It’s stunningly gorgeous (no pun intended).

What happened next gave me pause: during the first and second songs, I had tears in my eyes. Two times, without warning, I felt like I was about to cry. This had never happened before and I stopped jumping around for a moment to take stock.

Why would this make me emotional? Why on earth was I acting like a teenage girl at a Beatles concert in 1965? Chris Martin is NOT that good-looking.

Suddenly it occurred to me that it wasn’t the band that was sending me over the top, it was the collective experience. Here I was among 30,000 people all singing the same lyrics, all fans of the same music, all happy together for three hours. Where else can this be found?

Certainly not in Seattle.

Statistically, Seattle is the least-churched city in the US. Given that absence, it’s no wonder that people are drawn to gathering by the thousands for a common interest such as a concert. Where else in Seattle can one experience the community and fellowship of coming together to adore a single entity? Where else can one stand among strangers and feel like you all have something in common? Even sporting events can’t compare – they always involve competition. The person sitting next to you could HATE the team you are rooting for. At a concert, you are all there because you love the same performer.

As I was thinking about this, I had a flashback. Two years ago, my father-in-law attended a Dave Matthews Band concert at The Gorge with me, Mike and all of our siblings. Afterward, we eagerly asked him what he thought of it. He paused, and then said, “It was a worship service. Idolatry, really.”

Not critical, not positive or negative, just fact.

At first I thought, you can’t be serious. What, we’re bowing down to gods made of stone? But he explained that today’s idols are really anything you put before God. That could be musicians, actors, comic books, even your own beauty.

Then it was obvious; what I was experiencing was akin to going to a massive worship service — of Coldplay.

For me, it’s not too much of a stretch to fall into idol worship…but that’s less because of the music than because of their celebrity. When they entered a smaller stage inside the crowd, just thirty feet from us, what did I do? I bolted straight for them to get as close as the burly security guard would let me. Why? Because I idolize their talent and success. And because, hello, the lead singer is married to Gwyneth Paltrow. Need I write more?

It is fantastic to recognize that the music Coldplay creates is brilliant, but I have to remember the ability to create that music is God-given. To recognize it as anything less is idol worship. So while I’m amazed by what I’m hearing, I’m also thinking how incredible it is that we are created to create. And that was the difference, I believe: I was in awe of the talent the Lord gives people, rather than being emotionally in awe of Chris, Will, Guy and Jonny. And who wouldn’t be, with lyrics like this that make you feel invincible?

“Oh love, don’t let me go/Won’t you take me where the street lights glow?/I can hear rain coming like a serenade of sound/Now my feet won’t touch the ground.” (Life in Technicolor II)

After considering these thoughts as the band played on, I had one of those ridiculous Christian-panic moments where I was thinking, “Now am I supposed to interpret all the lyrics through this lens? Do I have to analyze everything to see how God is involved?” No, I don’t. In fact, when I have those thoughts, God is probably looking at me thinking, LIGHTEN UP.

So I am free to enjoy the music.

“I can hear rain coming like a serenade of sound…now my feet won’t touch the ground.”

Summer 09 050

4 Comments

Filed under One WORD (Current Events)

Tagged as Church, Coldplay, music, Seattle

July 8, 2009 · 6:00 AM

Hospitality: Large Events

In the world of hospitality, hosting a large event is in a category all its own. It’s overwhelming, yet nuanced; enormously stressful, yet rewarding. And if you’ve ever tried to pull one off, you know it ain’t easy.

Having recently attended a major event that went brilliantly, I thought it apt to interview the hostess to discover her tips and tricks (in this case, how to present a keg tastefully).

She is one Annie Snyder, 24 years old, living in Seattle, WA (Greenlake, specifically). Her favorite holiday is Independence Day, so for the past three years she has hosted a 4^th of July party that lasts all weekend.

To give credit where due, Miss Snyder admits she learned everything she knows from Mrs. Snyder – and in fact held the event at Mrs. Snyder’s waterfront home in Gig Harbor. Together, they made for a killer mother-daughter hostess duo.

But first let’s admit that though bigger events are more work for the hostess, there’s an incredible self-serving benefit: it’s the host’s friends. “It’s all of my favorite people in one place at one time!” Annie says.

However, she concedes, “It’s overwhelming. Sometimes I have to grab people just for a few minutes and get time with only them, otherwise I’ll never see some people.”

But let’s talk turkey. One of the most challenging aspects of serving more than 50 people is doing so economically. In this case, Annie’s best tip is to purchase kegs — in multiples. She purchased three kegs so she could negotiate with the brewery on the price per keg. She did well: $48 per keg. Usually kegs cost up to $120 each.

“It’s easier to serve people with a keg, and also easier to clean up. We served 65-70 people for less than $150,” Annie reports.

And don’t just leave those ugly gray barrels as they are. Annie decided to purchase flag-themed garbage can covers and used them to cover the similarly-shaped kegs.

And though it’s great to save some money on the alcohol, avoid skipping major elements of the food you’re serving.

“Don’t be stingy and cheap, because your guests will know. If you’re going to entertain, fully entertain. Don’t rely on your guests for staple items. Once you choose to entertain, it’s on you,” Annie says.

But if you do ask others to contribute, don’t say, “Please bring a dish to share.” As Annie says, “Be specific in knowing what you want others to bring. It’s my biggest pet peeve when people stray from simple instruction, like if I tell you to bring a side, bring a damn side. Don’t bring a dessert.”

But atmosphere is crucial as well. And even though Annie attributes any party’s success to the people who attend, she says that decorations don’t hurt either.

“You can’t have too much patriotic paraphernalia on the 4^th of July,” she says. “We bought four dozen hats, tons of red, white and blue fringe, and even temporary tattoos.”

It’s true. The decided the look of the weekend was to have a “tramp stamp” on everyone’s lower backs, except in this case rather than a typical tattoo symbol, there were American flags and George Washington’s face.

It’s important to keep your role as host in perspective, Annie reminds us. Your role as host is not to provide a personal experience of happiness for each guest, but rather to create a place where a great time can occur.

“The fun is already happening – I don’t have to entertain fully, I just say ‘here you go, here’s the party.’ As host, YOU’RE not the fun, you’re the springboard to the fun,” she says.

And not every moment is bliss for the host. Sometimes, guests hog your time.

“People trap me in a 20 minute conversation and I’m stuck,” she confesses.

And how to get out of such a situation? Initiate clean up.

“Some people take advantage of the situation, like especially when it comes to clean-up. You know who your friends are when it’s cleanup time and others disperse to leave,” she remarks.

But while they’re around, keep them happy with snappy tunes.

“Definitely compile a good play list…heavy on the Rhianna,” Annie recommends.

Annie credits a great turn-out with word-of-mouth. She says that “the measure of a good event is how well you pitch it.” And she must have pitched a home run, because even newcomers were impressed.

“I love when people come up to me and say that they’re having such a good time,” Annie says. “Like my friend Catlyn said “I knew I was going to have fun this weekend, but I didn’t know I was going to have this much fun.”

A successful event, indeed.

4 Comments

Filed under Good WORD (Etiquette)

Tagged as Annie Snyder, Etiquette, Manners, Seattle

June 17, 2009 · 6:00 AM

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

Trust is an interesting word, because as my mom says, “It doesn’t exist until it’s tested.”

Consider mine in full existence.

Mike climbed Mt. Baker last weekend, and I didn’t handle it well — at first. This was his first climb of this intensity, and it’s a bit of a mystery to both of us. What do we know of mountains? More specifically, what do I know of what they do to men?

I know that they call to men, beckoning them for reasons that escape me. I look at mountains and think, “How beautiful!” Men look at mountains and think “I must conquer you.”

Mike’s sister Wendy is married to a man who has answered that mountainous whisper numerous times. Naturally, I went to her with my nerves bared.

“Worry is futile and unproductive,” she advised. “It’s definitely something I’ve come to understand over time though…so don’t feel like you have to instantly be at peace and calm about your hubby climbing a mountain. It’s a process.”

It’s a process. So it’s fine that I cried after breakfast on Friday morning, when I knew I wouldn’t see him until his return on Sunday night. And it’s fine that I cried after lunch on Friday afternoon, when we said goodbye again, since I needed more than one goodbye. (Believe me; I know how pathetic I sound right now).

It’s embarrassing to admit, but I was afraid. Not of Mike’s inability, but of the mountain’s strength. Climbing produces an onslaught of foreign words that sound like causes of death: crevasse, glacier, peak, ice field, snow slide.

Add to this that we have only spent one night apart so far in our marriage (I know, you’re gagging). Add to this that we had just returned from a six day trip in which we had been together 24/7. The result is that the thought of his absence made me feel like a limb was missing.

I guess that’s what I felt all weekend: phantom limb.

So I called my mom on Friday and told her my fears. She listened. Then she asked if I was going up the mountain with him.

“No, I’m not going,” I said.

“Correct. You cannot protect him. But Jesus is walking alongside him all the way up to the peak and right back down. So tell Him to protect our boy and then let it go,” she said, using my three least favorite words in the English language.

Let it go.

Release.

Essentially, stop being myself, because I am a control freak.

So, begrudgingly, I did. I told Jesus this was truly His worry, not mine, and I stopped thinking about it.

OK I didn’t stop thinking about it. I just stopped worrying about it. I still thought of him every day, but it was thoughts of missing him, not imagining him falling into an abyss. This was progress.

I also made plans. The last thing I needed was to be home alone with my thoughts, so I called Rachel, Mike’s other sister, whose husband Phil was climbing with Mike. Then we called her mom, because her son and son-in-law are our husbands. So we all felt the same and decided to be together to feel the same.

We went to Anacortes where Mike’s parents have a house, to distract ourselves, even enjoy ourselves, and relax. This was the best possible decision we could have made.

Rachel has been through this worry-release almost as many times as Wendy, so she was a rock for me in my first experience. Just looking at her peaceful expression made me think of the boys less and less often. Instead, I was fully present with Rachel and Colleen, and could enjoy a gorgeous sunset dinner overlooking the San Juan Islands.

I suppose peaceful dinners are one of the fringe benefits of “letting it go.” Who knew?

As I write this, on Sunday afternoon, the boys are not home yet. According to the “SPOT” device they use to let us know their status, they are still OK. Every couple of hours they push a button on this device and it emails us their location. I can’t overstate my devotion to this product.

The boys have a motto when it comes to their climbs: “The summit is optional. Coming home is not.” These are good men.

As for me being a good woman? I’m ashamed of how much effort it takes for me to trust. I want to be the woman who says, “Go! Adventure! Live!” When what I whine now is, “Stay home! Be my security! Never leave my side!”

But that’s not living. That’s not what we were made for. And Mike isn’t my security anyway; God is.

So when Mike gets home, as I trust he will, and I am relieved and happy and filled with hope that my trust was on solid ground — then I must hold onto this trust, learn it, keep it. Because I know exactly what he’s going to say:

“I can’t wait to climb Mt. Rainier!”

Mike, Greg and Phil make their way back down the mountain.