I’m not asking in the practical, scientific way, but in the mountain girl trying to be existential sort of way, trying to make sense of things that are impossible to understand or trace to their source.
And after all, that’s what the question is meant to do.
Cristi and I (in the collective form, Alathea) have been a bit mute for the last couple of months. We like to send out monthly email updates to our listeners, and we rarely and occasionally think of moderately clever things to post on facebook and twitter about. We even enjoy answering emails, phone calls and texts, but honestly we have been a bit numb, and as a result, silent. In February, Cristi’s family walked (and are still wading) through a deep, deep heartache. Cristi’s four month old niece Anni passed away unexpectedly in her sleep. Even typing the words rips at the reality. Anni’s mom and dad were left here on this side of heaven, with questions that don’t have answers and arms that ache to hold their baby girl.
Two days later, as the family was planning baby Anni’s funeral, Cristi’s toddler, Samuel was diagnosed with pneumonia and admitted immediately to the hospital. It was a week from hell - with images of the eternal, splintered with flesh and bone and actual human hearts that break. Though it wasn’t the first time we had been pushed to the limits of our understanding, that was the week we fell over the edge. Still, there were moments in the midst of our pain where Heaven itself split open into our hell - little mercies so that we could keep breathing and walking and singing and even laughing. But, after that week, a cloud descended - not the holy kind that covers the mountain - just the dense fog where the earth itself seeps of smoke and you can’t see your own hand in front of your face. We walked through our days, on the path that we couldn’t see, and waited for heaven to open up again.
Then, I got sick too. For the last few years, my health has teetered with tides of good weeks and bad months. And this time I was swept up in the wave of illness, again. My husband and I had planned a trip to Florida - though we are adults without children, we wanted a Spring Break. We wanted a break from winter. Plane tickets were bought, hotel rooms booked, plans to visit families made - even a convertible reserved. Then I got sick, so sick that we replaced the week’s trip with surgery and a 3-week-do-nothing-recovery. Five months into our wedding vows of sickness and health, and the scales were already unbalanced with the weightiness of sickness. And as a result, for our Spring Break, I was glued to the couch with massive amounts of pain medicine. And in his week off, Wes worked on a surprise for me - he bought the most adorable baby chicks and got to building a chicken coop. I watched as the structure began to take shape, and that’s when I realized the answer to the age old question - maybe it’s not the chicken or the egg that comes first, but maybe it is the coop - the structure - the sanctuary - the things that support and give shelter.
Many of you have pre-ordered the next Alathea projects - like the children’s recording that we are making this year. Originally, we were going to officially start the project in these last few months of winter. But what comes first, the songs or the inspiration itself? Maybe it’s neither. Maybe it’s the coop. Maybe it’s the support that gives us the structure to create. Maybe it’s the sanctuary our families provide, the haven that our friends give us, and the shelter that you, our listeners cover us with.
We are realizing that both the song and the inspiration hatch out of this house that you give us to create them.... So, thank you for your patience with us. Thank you for your continued belief in the music of our lives. The cloud is lifting as we huddle together beneath the shelter, though there are days when winter creeps back in and threatens to steal this spring. I can promise you this: we are working on the new music with our whole hearts. We carry every experience of grace and the little mercies we stumble upon in the fog into every note and every word we write. We can’t wait to share the new songs with you. Thank you for being our very own chicken coop. And though it may be a little weird to say it, we hope that very soon we have some fresh eggs to share.
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| Maybelle, Hazel + Iris |
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| Don't touch.... |
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| The chicks are safe - Thumper (the dog) is blind.... |
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| Mandee and Cristi painting the coop... |
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| The coop under construction... |
