Call Me Back

The very fact that I somehow managed not to immediately buy Andrew Peterson’s album speaks to both my dismal financial state and also how out of touch with life I’ve felt lately.

I’m on the brink of wrapping up a few big projects and I could feel it today (so could all my twitter followers as I tweeted about pretty much everything that popped in my head) and I was able to breathe a little bit. And read a post by an Andrew Peterson fan about the new album. Throwing caution to the wind, I immediately purchased an option that would allow me to download it right away. (the CD doesn’t come out until the end of July but for extra bucks they’ll let you download it now)

There’s no way to really describe the grounding effect certain artists have for me…it’s the sort of thing I feel I gush too much about. Some people in this life…whether they be musicians, authors, even bloggers have an ability to capture life in their words in a way that makes sense to me. In a way that feels like home.

So today…listening to the new Andrew Peterson was calming. It was like being reminded of the deeper beauty in the world. Hope formed from the burning fires of life, love emerging from the darkest nights of the soul…peace. Something more.

I needed it more than I can say.

(I have this same feeling when I read Beth Kephart’s books, too. The feeling that I’ve opened up, exposed, and stitched back together with sweet aching hope.)



Hope has a way of turning its face to you just when you least expect it
You walk in a room, you look out a window and something there leaves you breathless
You say to yourself, “It’s been awhile since I’ve felt this but it feels like it might be…..hope”
Sara Groves “It Might Be Hope”