One last glance up at my patchwork creations. I’ve been tinkering with these wings for some time. Sewing, strapping, bending, testing, re-sewing… wondering in the quiet of my shop if these strange conglomerates of extravagant dreams and meager budget will even hold. The stretched canvas drums softly in the breeze, seams flutter, and I feel a confident tug upward. I’m proud of them. They’re not the prettiest wings – definitely not industry standard, but I think they’ll do.

They’ll have to, because behind me a shadowy figure approaches. His name is Now Or Never and for the life of me I don’t know why I invited him. The arrangement is such; if I can’t jump he’ll be doing the pushing. The bugger’s perfect for the job… cold, indifferent, and immediate. Never talks, never warns or encourages. Rumor has it he whispers just a single word before he pushes – unique to each pushee. Cold hands on the back, one stark utterance behind the head, and off you go.

The air has become strangely still. I slide my foot to the edge. Pebbles crumble into the canyon. The time has come.

I don’t think I can take the step. Good Lord, there’s the hands. If I live through this, I’ll let you know what he said.

I’ve spent a lot of restless nights wondering what this whole music thing will lead to.  Whom should I network with?  What kind of music should I write? Am I too old?  Is it too late?  Are the walls of my age closing in? Will the world ever hear the songs I once thought destined for the multitudes? I gotta say, I’ve gotten myself in a tizzy or two about the whole silly thing.

Back in January or so, God whispered something to me… just sing.  So now I’m singing. Wherever I can and whenever I can: Munday Chamber of Commerce, Clyde Woman’s Club, Abilene Credit Union banquet… you want me to sing? I’m there. And two really cool things are happening: I’m enjoying it, AND I’m seeing a sincere reaction in people. Eureka! That’s what this is about – touching people.

So let me pull this all together. I’m a songwriter and that’s what I do.  So I was out gathering eggs the other day and thought of the aforementioned picture of a hatchling chick.  And it has dawned on me over these past few days – sometimes what seems like a cursed barrier to a destiny is really the protective shell of incubation.  And if it feels like the walls are closing in on you, maybe it’s just you out-growing your walls. Thank you God for YOUR timing.

I’m no spring chicken. If I were, I guess I’d peck. But as it is… I’ll sing.  Sing my way right out of this shell.

Today my son built skis. That’s all.  Just scraps of wood, pieces of tin, and old shoes. Did they work? Not quite. But they were beautiful to his Mommy and Daddy. We are very proud.

Then, when the time is just right – when a nation is buried in cold snow and winter gloom, you take a song, blow the dust off, and cast it out like seed in the Spring.

So thank you God. Help us all to see the Sun tracing the line of your smile each day – from horizon to horizon.

Elliott