Potato Chips

A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with a bag of potato chips and a six-pack of rootbeer and started his journey. 

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old woman. She was sitting in
the park, just staring at some pigeons.
The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a
drink from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady looked hungry, so
he offered her some chips She gratefully accepted it and smiled at him.


Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered
her a root beer. Again, she smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat
there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word. As
twilight approached, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to
leave; but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran
back to the old woman, and gave her a hug. She gave him her biggest smile
ever..


When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, " What did you do today that made you so happy?" He replied, "I had lunch with God." But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and he asked, " Mother, what did you do today that made you so happy?" She replied! "I ate potato chips in the park with God." However, before her son responded, she added, " You know, he's much younger than I expected."


Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime! Embrace all equally!

Have lunch with God.......and bring chips.

Thanks Cheryl

No Call Back...

So my girl Vikki, at the Goodman Theatre, suggested I audition for Yolanda - a 22yr. old, Brooklyn fireball in the upcoming Crowns play. Perfect, Yeah?!? Except I've never auditioned for anything theatre related...ever.  I've sung...a lot, which is like performing on stage, but it ain't acting.  Still I'm honored Vikki believes in me so Saturday, I'm on the curb, with a bunch of 20 somethings, waiting in the cold for the door to open and the games to begin. I met Isabel who is a pro at this- having recently waited for hours to audition in Lion King, sang octaves with

fellow laborers in the art and due to nerves- delivered a B- monologue.  I couldn't get lost in the character.

Anywhooo, I called my ubba Christian and ubba successful Hollywood friend, Naima Lett for help and consultation. Both which she happily obliges and I literally learned how to do a theatre resume and monologue from her the night before.  We recap afterwards (what went right and what went wrong)  and the convo changes direction in which Naima asked me "If you had God's great big YES, what one thing would you be doing in life?" I muster up as much courage as I can and admit- I'd be singing on the same scale as Whitney Houston was. Big production, great fashion, extraordinary choreography and the music would be Christian/Inspiration.. a quality of performance that has never done before by a Christian artist". I mean sure Madonna, Cher, Beyonce,Prince, Celine and Janet have all done it, but not one Christian artist.  She delicately replies, "Then why are you auditioning for someone else's play when you should be focusing on how to get your production off and running. You're a singer.. why haven't you given yourself permission to be the best at that"?

OUCH  Naima!!!

She proceeds by saying, "You're not focused, I mean laser focused " and generously calls out why...(reasons which will remain private.. thank you very much). What could I say, she was right, it hurt, I needed to hear it...and now I'm focused!

You gotta laugh at God's irony though: I sit in the cold to audition for a part, that I don't get a call back on, only to admit that I should not have been outside, waiting in the cold from the start. For me, it was a distraction...a cop out and I knew it but I couldn't have seen it, if it weren't for my good gal friends. So thanks Vikki for giving me the opportunity and  thanks Naima..for helping me live truth!

FOCUS.

Brand New Music For You!!

Free Download...Limited Time.  Go to Music Page:)
www.AmandaHuntMusic.com

Boundaries

I heard mi madre say, “one key to a happy marriage is a king sized mattress.” Hubby and I, in our newlywed, “no I love you more schmougumbear”, “no, no, I love you more schmougumbear” haze of a fantasy, opted for a queen mattress. The decision was one-third financial and two-third delusional and now – 2 years in, I see mothers’ wisdom.  This morning, I wake up (you guessed the hour) and my body is under some spontaneous combustion of an inferno attack and I can’t breathe, I can’t sleep and I ain’t got enough SPACE!

I got some water, turned on a fan, tried not to panic then ultimately began thinking of SPACE, which got me thinking about Boundaries. Actually, I was thinking about space, then tomatoes, then boundaries but I have no idea what the tomatoes was all about.

So contemplating boundaries got me thinking about a fantastical message I recently heard in which boundaries were totally redefined. The speaker said (and I paraphrase) boundaries not only tell you how far you should go but it also establishes how close harmful things can get to you. Think of a fence, it keeps you from running into the street and it keeps crazy dogs, or neighbors who act like crazy dogs, from walking all up in your spot.  Another benefit of boundaries is it establishes what your responsible for (ie. this house and this lawn behind my fence is what I’m responsible for). Some of us suffer from watering everyone else’s lawn and our grass is dry and brown.

Lastly, boundaries clarifies what God takes responsibility for. (ie. kid, if you go outside of my will, I can’t help you.) So, when God was warning us about having sex outside of marriage, he wasn’t trying to squash our fun, he was protecting us with boundaries.

1.       You don’t get yourself hurt and salty

2.       Pain, STD’s and Pregnancy drama don’t stress you out

3.       You keep your lawn clean from mess

4.       God honors and protects your commitment to his way and blesses your future covenant.

BOUNDARIES!! If I would’ve really grasped this earlier in life, I never would have let O’dude even hold my hand. I’d been like, “Boo Boo Halt!! Boundaries Baby- you ain’t watering no grass around here so put your hand back on your lap”..lol.

Sidebar- Tomatoes…. I remember how I got there. Needing space led to being hot, which led to thinking of work..outside.. like laboring in a garden, where I want to one day plant tomatoes, but I’ll need a fence…to set up a protective hedge or, you guessed it, Boundaries.  

Whew!!  First I’m purchasing a king sized mattress.

Oh NO!! Pandemonium....

I sat straight up today, eyes wide open and breath held tight- full of anxiety- thinking, "Oh No, I don’t have anything to blog…(scratch that) WRITE (because I am a writer and should be taken seriously).

What will I do when all my fans…my adoring fans... tune in for an article and I got nothing.. I mean NOTHING!! It’ll be pandemonium, an ungodly, unimaginable, unmanageable (wait..unmanageable.. is that a word) uproar and all because I dropped the ball. What will I do, who will I be, who am I now....

"Whoah sista, HALT!! This has taken a dramatic dark turn somewhere and we better climb out quick", I tell myself.

Why is it so hard to separate what you do from who you are? When someone asks you to describe yourself, we immediately ramble off: "I’m a student, teacher, mom, business owner, blah, blah…"
It all tumbles when you’re fired, or your kids grow up, or you run out of student loan money…lol.

So I’m up, (yeah it’s 4am) and I’m asking with writers block.. who am I…who am I…who am I… and softly I hear, "you’re mine."

No God that’s not correct. I’m asking WHO am I, not WHOSE am I.

He must find us comical because softly he repeats, "You’re mine."

"I’m yours??? I’m yours…OH, I’m Yours! I get it. My identity is wrapped up in what or Who I believe I belong to. And because you’re my Creator and Savior, you had me in mind before I even became a writer or student or wife. I’m kinda like a special edition, a one of a kind, featured item huh…"

"Wow, that’s great material JC" I said

"You should write about it", He replies.

A Day on the Lake

So it’s the next day and my Rock Star girlfriend Susan text me- “Let’s go on the boat and watch the air show.”

Mia, Me, Susan

Whew Hoo, I’m already traveling!!

Sitting in Lake Michigan on this fantastical yacht stocked with food, fun and Capt’n Ant at the wheel- I cannot be more pleased. (Forget about the fact that you couldn’t catch me dead in that contaminated body of water.) I’m having a Blast!!

The air is cool and the sun is warm, as far as I’m concerned, I’m two waves away from the Italian coast.  And the timing couldn’t be better because again… I was up at 4am…duking it out with my issues and working it out with my God.

I bring an “impressive” bottle of Champagne only to have it completely overshadowed by the schmorgisborg Sue and Mia supply: 6 meats, several cheeses, olives, moscato, 8 fruits, 3 breads, and a million beverages (there literally was no space for mine…lol). Dips, chips, chocolates, dessert.. it was almost gluttoness except for the fact that Sue brought her wonderful and hilarious family, while Mia followed behind her adorable 8 year old son-Chase (the name is appropriate).

I did note eating on real plates (not plastic), while tanning and coasting waves makes cheese taste A WHOLE LOT BETTER… who knew?

First we grabbed gas behind Horseshoe then we raced Capt’n Anthony’s friends to Navy Pier.

**Another observation- we were the only two boats out with African American occupants..huh.. but more importantly, everyone was so nice out on the water. As a matter of fact, it is customary to wave at every passing ship, small or large, no exception.  Apparently, it’s not just me, the water makes everyone happier.**

Chase at the wheel

7 hours later we were stuffed on carbs and two shades darker. Papa Manuel (Susans’ father) and little Chase steered us home and we wobbled to our cars …smiling… and really, really relaxed.  Here’s where I talked myself home: “Ok Amanda, drive the speed limit, pick up the cleaners, smile at the doorman, lock your door, take a shower, pass out.”  I must say, it was a good plan, and I followed it perfectly. I was clean, my muscles felt like jello so passing out was effortless.  Blissfully I slipped into a coma and dreamed wonderful, euphoric dreams…about lollipops…sun tan lotion… and sailing.

Stage 1

So I'm totally siked the EP will be out in a few.  Still I thought I'd give you a peak into the beginning stages of my life as an artist.  See the Music tab and Download my First Mix CD...Ever!! Let's grow together and enjoy the ride!  AmandaHuntMusic.com

Emily Ferguson… This is Not a Blog!

Yesterday, I ate lunch with Emily Ferguson. She’s my good gal friend, complete with soft curly hair and a smile to match…. I had a blast!!

Somehow, between meetings and to do lists, we intentionally created a blissful picnic-complete with beach towels, sushi, Green & Blacks 70% dark chocolate and Swedish meatballs.  Authentically, we bounced life’s questions and revelations off each other. No judgment, just laughter. Then it hit me. It’s August…AUGUST…what on earth happened to January and April…JULY for that matter???

For years, I convinced myself my life would be best played out as a commodity investor. Sharp suits, competitive colleagues, lots of adoration and cold, hard CA$H!! Truth be told, the fear of poverty was driving me.

Now I’m “blogging”….as a songwriter….about a picnic, I’m enjoying with Emily…Thank God I’m not investing anymore.

I told Emily, if I had it my way, I’d be traveling and writing and singing and sharing myself with the world. Wisely she responds- in that sweet, gentle, matter of fact tone that one loves to hate- “You should travel and write a blog on your website.”

“WHAT”?!?! My inner diva shouts.

“Listen. Emily. It’s not that simple, m’kay. I can’t just start traveling…and….and…‘blogging’. I’m an adult. I have responsibilities. One needs a lot more money to travel and even more courage to blog. What will people think...hmm? What will people say…huh…have you thought about that?”

Before I could deliver my solid case to her, she offered me some more chocolate…*sigh*…. I Got Nothing.

So, welcome to my world, my expression; a clear place to respectfully share and grow in. It’s for you, it’s for me, it’s for the whole entire family…E.I.E.I.O.

But please for the love of all things precious and desired…RESPECT MY GANGSTA and do NOT call this a BLOG….Lol!!!

4AM…AGAIN?!?!

Several times last year, I'd roll over to a clock blaring 4:00am. This....occurrence started in '08, against my permission because I LOVE to sleep... I nap daily... trust me when I say...I wasn't waking me up!!

For the last 3 years- and without warning- when God wanted to speak, He'd choose to at this designated hour. Maybe I listen better at 4:00am.

Regardless, in this 3 years time, I'd have this plaguing notion. A nagging awareness or feeling, that I just began voicing to my husband.....in a whisper...in the dark...at 4am (so no one else knew my secret). The first time I said it out loud almost rendered me crippled from shock- "Honey", I'd slowly ration out in my best conspiracy tone..."this is not my life".

WHAT?!?! I must be delusional. When did my life, not become my life? And if it's not my life...whose is it?

Fast forward today- August 19, 2011 and you guessed it...I'm wide awake and it is 4 o'clock in the morning. I'm laying there in the dark....eyes wide open, staring at blackness and the question sweeps my mind. It's poised in a conversational tone, like "Something" or "Somebody" is talking to me (hint: Somebody is God's nickname). 

"So, who are you living for"?, He says.

“Who”? I reply… “WHO?? What do you mean. That's absurd- I'm Christian, who else. Christ of course...So why does life feel so small, and repressed, and ...limited.”

No response.

When I was 5yrs. old at the playground, Life was BIG! And more importantly, I was enjoying being 5... at the playground.  Now I'm 30, in my apartment, wishing I was 25 in Italy... Huh?!?!  This I gotta figure out… they tell me writing helps.

So that’s my mission- Journal the Journey. The tricky part is- I have a good life: great job in recession (check), warm family and friends (check), healthy body (check), a convertible (check), etc. (check). So it’s not that I don't like my life, I'm just not living it...Hmm.

Next month I turn 31... I suppose I should start.