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Too Tired for Tears

Have you ever been so tired that you couldn't even cry...so weary from the constant striving that although your heart is breaking and your body wants to cry, no tears come?

That's how I felt last night...after a long weekend of very sweet moments (mixed with lots of challenging ones) with my children, I finally got them to sleep and filled the bathtub so I could unwind and reflect. But as I stepped in and sank down into the bubbles, what seemed to come crashing in like a storm was not the peace I was longing for. Instead, I started sobbing...but no tears came...just a lot of energy draining out and a lot of weight on my heart, but no tears. I so badly wanted the tears to flow so I could find some relief, and I felt like a prisoner in my own body.

Finally, after about 10 minutes of "dry" sobbing, a few minutes of tears felt like a spritz of cold water sprayed in my face and brought about the same relief a small splash brings on a sweltering hot summer day...but it was better than nothing. It took a while to make myself get out of the bathtub, but when the water started turning colder, I decided it was time.

As I looked in the mirror at my tear-stained cheeks, one phrase kept pounding in my head--"cease striving." The word striving has a few meanings, all very similar, but "to struggle or fight forcefully" is the kind of striving that has been draining me. I've never been one to give up easily, and I often find that my striving is most painful in the relationships in my life that mean the most. I don't want to have to "struggle" or "fight forcefully" in these relationships...I want them to come with great joy and ease. And when they don't, I get this overwhelming (albeit inaccurate) feeling that the survival of that relationship rests solely on my shoulders. So to "cease", which means to literally "give over" is extremely difficult for me. But that's just it...the "give over" definition is right where I need to land...to give it over to the One who is in control. He is sovereign, after all, and if I proclaim to trust Him, then I must be willing to let go.

It hurts so much...but I'm going to try to give it over to You, Lord!

What Drives the Band

Whether or not your IPOD rocks tunes like “How Far” or “Life Will Fade Away”, you can’t help but fall in love with Synthetic Elements, the Punk Rock / Ska band from Fort Morgan, CO. Kyle Hernandez (Bass Player and Vocals) showed up at 10am on a Wednesday morning, dressed to fit your teenage dream of a punk rocker, carrying his orange Gatorade and flashing his heart-melting smile. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the Teyste & Grandeur Warehouse, we were soon entrenched in conversation.

Looking at this confident 26 year old, I knew there was an incredible history behind the mounting success of Synthetic Elements. About ten years ago, on a snowy Colorado day, Kyle and his buddies decided it was too snowy to hit the skate park and headed for his friend Todd’s house (Todd McMullan, Lead Singer). Little did they know that the moment they picked up his dad’s instruments, they were embarking on a life-long journey into the world of music. The fact that none of the boys had been trained musically didn’t stop them from booking a gig at a local coffee shop (which at the time was In the Mood) within just one week. Kyle had already been a roadie for a friend’s band, and Brett (Brett Carson, Drummer) was playing for another band that had kicked him out when he broke his ankle. Kyle seized the opportunity and “stole” Brett, whom he’d known since Kindergarten, and the band then got their real start. Raw talent abounded within the group, and the city of Ft. Morgan was chomping at the bit, especially since the last musical wonder to come out of that town was Glenn Miller around 1940. With the limited entertainment in this small farming town, Synthetic Elements packed the house at every concert they offered, and they were soon branching out to surrounding cities such as Greeley, CO.

Next on the map? Denver seemed too easy and not quite as inviting, so the band hit the road and headed to Utah; fifteen and sixteen year old boys packing up the van on a Friday night to feed their hungry fans and heading home Sunday to get ready for an average teenage school week. ..although, “average” doesn’t quite describe the life these young men have led. Around Utah, the ska-punk tunes of Synthetic Elements rang through the locals’ ears, and soon word spread like wildfire, bringing more gigs and innumerous fans. A lot of heart and little steps along the way continued to lead the band to places like the Sundance Film Festival, where they met a few legends and left a lasting impression on key players in the industry. Powerfully touring the US on their own circuit for years, they welcomed the privilege to tour with icons such as Billy Idol and Flogging Molly, and the camaraderie has certainly kept their passion blazing. “We’ve played everything,” says Kyle, “from the tiniest bar to the biggest venues, wherever the kids were hungry for us!” Apparently the kids in Indianapolis are starving for them because every concert there has been sold out, and last year awarded them “Best Punk Band in Indianapolis 2010” even over all their own local punk bands. Kyle talks about how supportive the scene is there like he’s talking about his favorite uncle, which isn’t too far-fetched considering the fans there range from teens to 50-year olds. So, safe to say there is no master formula to making their band successful. Kyle says “We’ve all learned so much through the years by trial and error, we’ve all learned together.”

When they first started out, they discovered that the Denver scene was not as diverse or responsive in the realm of the punk scene, so they have sought to create a following in other regions. My Space was hitting the web scene around the same time the band came together, so much of their publicity and promotion has flourished on the internet, allowing for a bigger following and greater exposure. The band’s managers, Dave McMullan and Brad Lindgren, do their best with what they know, but the band has “…all chipped in, and [they’ve] failed miserably, but also succeeded” (Kyle Hernandez). Part of their success comes from choosing to stay in Colorado as opposed to the over-saturated scene in Hollywood. Synthetic Elements has not only made a name for itself, but has paved the way for other bands to do the same. The band believes wholeheartedly in giving back to the community, helping others who are striving to reach their goals and pouring back into their own band to enable them to soar even higher. “It is a business…lawyers, contracts, bonds, equipment…but we have never taken a cent from the band, any of us” (Kyle Hernandez). This principle is at the heart of Filthy Beast Records, the record label the band started so that they could pour back into other local bands, such as The Potato Pirates, to help them live their dreams. Each of the band members has his own day job, working 40 plus hours a week, but it’s all to make the bigger picture work so that they can be Synthetic Elements full time one day.

But don’t be fooled by those full time jobs because they put at least another 40 hours into the band; especially when they are on tour with AFE (Armed Forces Entertainment) like they will be in October 2011 as they visit Guam, Japan and South Korea. The AFE is the “Official Department of Defense agency for providing entertainment to U.S. military personnel overseas. Armed Forces Entertainment and its performers have the honor of supporting soldiers, airmen, marines and sailors by bringing them the very best in American entertainment” (http://www.armedforcesentertainment.com). Kyle says the entertainment brings the military personnel a piece of home and boosts morale. Because this is “official business,” he isn’t at liberty to tell me the details of their AFE tour, but he is excited to return to Guam for the one year anniversary of Molly McGee’s, the bar they opened and of which they remain “plank owners.” Preparation for this tour is intensive, so the band will take two weeks off prior to departure to meticulously pack equipment and personal belongings. When they return, their usual schedule would be booked two months in advance, but they will be taking some time to focus on the year ahead.

2012 will undoubtedly be an exciting year for Synthetic Elements, with a new album in the works and an unwavering commitment to only stop when they’ve “plateaued”…which clearly hasn’t happened yet. They are continually brainstorming and charging ahead, landing their songs on local radio stations (namely, channel 93.3/KTCL), ESPN, Fuel Television and Rock Band®. Recently, the band recorded a few demos in their own studio, and soon will be laying down tracks for their new album at Bill Stevenson’s studio, “Blasting Room,” in Fort Collins, CO. Previous hits, like “Something Worth Fighting For”, have influenced many people on various levels with multiple meanings; the band may have a story behind a song, but what they want is for the lyrics to apply to others’ lives when and how they need it. Just ask the fans who have tattooed their lyrics on their bodies, and I’m sure you’ll hear resounding admiration for these men. And I would have to agree.

Kyle and I could talk all day, but since we both have a busy schedule, I want one last bit of inspiration from him, so I ask him to tell me what drives Synthetic Elements. He leaves me with this, “We are a family, we’re very close brothers. We absolutely love playing music and seeing people sing our music back to us; and just the happiness that it brings to people is what really feeds us. And that’s the reason we don’t talk about religion or politics. We talk about every- day life that anybody can relate to. We’ve had people say, ‘I was going to commit suicide, but your music really helped me.’ When we can be an inspiration to people or put smiles on people’s faces, it really drives our band.”

So, the next time you’re looking for a way to transform your playlist, remember there’s more to the punk scene than the music, and look for the latest hit from Synthetic Elements.

The Band: Kyle Hernandez, Bass Player and Vocals; Todd McMullan, Lead Singer; Brett Carson, Drummer; Johnson, Washboard and Trombone; Mike Blecha, Organ and Trumpet; Dave McMullan, Manager; Brand Lindgren, Road Manager

Jaded and Sorrowful

One of these days, I swear I will write about something more upbeat and joyful. However, it seems that certain seasons of life just lend themselves to bottles of tears instead of rays of sunshine.

I sat down tonight, tucked away in a corner of the kitchen, trying to escape the little innocent eyes of my daughters so I could cry without being seen--one little set of eyes was a bit too in tune with mommy's "mood", and soon I felt two sweet little arms wrapped around my pathetic heaving shoulders. Which of course melted my heart, and reminded me of the way I spent my morning.

Today was the first day of a new Single Mom's Group at my church..."Soul-O Moms"--cute name, huh! The leaders of our group decided to let us each share our stories so we could get acquainted...I'm just not sure they expected it to turn in to a room full of empathetic tears and "pass the kleenex box" moments. As I sat and listened to each woman, my eyes were like 2 leaky faucets that, in spite of the plumbers efforts, would not stop. Every story held its own overwhelming sadness and an underlying theme of what anyone would call "injustice." And although we all trust the Lord that brighter days are ahead, we all have aches and pains that make daily living a little bit more challenging. Even the acute sense of awareness that "it could be so much worse" doesn't do a whole lot to quench the thirst for immediate pain relief.

My heart left my chest and took up residency in each woman as her mouth formed words that felt all too familiar, and seemed a little bit less comfortable back in my own body with each return. And yet this is why we were there...to reach out to those sharing the same struggles and to encourage each other to try to pick up the pieces of our broken dreams and start rebuilding. I felt strangely thankful for the sorrowful morning, but I couldn't help feeling intensely jaded toward men as a general "race". Not a single woman in that room deserved what the men in their lives dished out to them. And after my own repetitive heartbreak over the man I love, I seem to be wanting to run, not walk, away from every man I've ever known or could come to know. One can only get a heart-thrashing so many times before she finally decides it's just not worth it.

Seriously, God, is this what you had in mind when you first created Adam? I highly doubt it!

No More Than I Can Handle...Right?

I have always considered myself a very strong woman--able to continue pouring out even when I feel drained; able to consider the glass always half FULL, not empty; able to exude joy even when circumstances are creating emotional turmoil; and able to see the bigger picture and keep pressing on in faith. From the time I was little, I believed that "God doesn't give us more than we can handle."

However, sometimes there are those moments, hours, days, weeks, or even months that feel like it truly is way more than I can handle. Serve me up a platter of one issue at a time, and I can devour it in no time, ready for the next. But present a buffet of four or five of them at once, and I will try to put it all on my plate, nibbling away at each as much as possible until I feel so "stuffed" that I burst!

That is where I am--but the buffet is not one that any person in his/her right mind would actually choose to partake in. It is filled with shattered dreams, broken hearts, confused and sad children, sick and expensive animals, overwhelming responsibilities, and often irrational meltdowns (from the kids and mommy).

Yes, "this too shall pass," and we will come out stronger (I hope) and grateful for God's mercy. But that's AFTERWARDS...what about now? When will I feel like I can take a deep breath and not breath in my own sorrow? When will I stop snapping at the girls simply because I cannot contain my own emotions? When will my girls look at me and see peace and not turmoil? When will my heart feel strong enough to stand up and say, "YOU may NOT treat me this way" (to the man who's ripped out my heart and stomped all over it) and then actually follow through with setting those boundaries? When will I be that strong woman I've always believed myself to be?

Please do not misunderstand me, I do believe God is bigger than all of this. There's just one small hurdle...I am HUMAN, and I hurt, I fear, I crumble, I stumble, I fail, I cry, I scream, and I barely hang on to the edge sometimes...and I look at the Lord with tearstained cheeks and cry out, "Really? No more than I can handle? Are you kidding me?!"

Rest Assured

Have you ever heard something so many times that you tune it out or become numb to its power? I've heard this familiar saying, "Rest Assured," in many different situations and from a slew of unsolicited voices, and yet I've never truly contemplated the meaning. Lately it has rushed through me like cold water on a hot day.

Rest: peace of mind or spirit; motionless or state of inactivity

Assured: satisfied as to the certainty or truth of a matter

At this stage in my life, I have been burned by people so many times that it's hard to rest assured in anything a man (or woman) says to me. I try, believe me I do, and I typically end up trusting them until proven otherwise. But to really have peace of mind...or more importantly, spirit, in the TRUTH of a matter is entirely another animal!

The only place I can genuinely rest assured is in the mighty sovereignty of the Lord; true peace is there. When I can really lie motionless, stop all activity and throw my hands up, that's when I know that I know that I know that HE is where my assurance does not waiver. I am satisfied in the certainty that He loves me, He has GREAT plans for me (and my daughters) and He will be standing there with arms wide open every time I forget to stop and rest.

The Chill in the Air

As I opened my eyes and tried to focus on the clock, my toes crept out from the warmth of my covers and then quickly retreated. The frigid air pressed against my face, increasing my resistance to wake up at 3:45 in the morning. Yet as I rolled over to bury my face in the pillow, my sleepy eyes caught a sweet glimpse, two (of my three) little cherub faces sleeping soundly in my bed, reminding me of why I get up each day. I smiled and coerced my sleepy self to emerge from the cozy comfort. Tiptoeing into the bathroom, so as not to wake the angels, I set foot on the cold tile and breathed in the chill. The light was a rude awakening to my tired eyes, and my face revealed the exhaustion within. And so the transformation began; make-up, hair, and a cute, but warm, outfit all for a three hour shift at the front desk of an athletic club. If only the inner transformation of our souls was as simple, and the trials as brief.

In the quiet of my home, I gingerly descended the stairway, admiring the beautiful Noble Fir with all its trimmings and the unlit lights awaiting their next performance. The dark kitchen felt ominously lonely as I pulled an egg from the fridge and boiled water on the stove. Feeling a tug on my heart, I quickly grabbed a pen and paper to leave my family a "love note"; I made my coffee, grabbed my breakfast and headed out the door. Although the garage was cold, it was no match for the chill in the air of the early morning outdoors. The streets were covered in wind-blown snow and were peacefully empty. My mind drifted to the poor souls who may be out walking in the miserable cold, and I was grateful for my warm car. Simple, yet profound, I likened my vehicle to the stable where Mary gave birth to our Savior. Within that humble, dirty, nearly insuffiicient shelter, a certain safety emerged. Was it beause it was warm? I wonder if it even was. Was it because it was cozy? Certainly not. Was it because their family was with them? Oh no, they were on their own. Was it because they were certain of what the future held? Not likely. Was it because HE was there? Absolutely!

I can imagine that Mary looked down into her baby's eyes, and was met with a soul-quenching look of eternal love. Maybe her trepidation and awe were somehow soothed with the peace of a faithful Father; One who would prove to be her strength in times of need and her hope in times of joy. I wish I could have seen that moment as it took place. I love to ponder all that that mother felt.

On mornings like today, when the chill is in the air, the mother in me wants to protect my children from the disomfort they may face. Yet I trust that whatever challenges may come their way, be it harsh weather or harsh people, He is the One within who will give them strength to persevere and hope to rejoice. The chill is in the air, but the fire is in our hearts!