We were back in the studio this Saturday, recording the final guitar track on our current project, and adding backing vocals on two songs. This two year process is nearing completion.

We have one more session, later in December, for backing vocals, and the actual recording is finished.  We’ll do edits and the mix-down early in the new year.  Then it will be reproduction, promotion, and product in the market place.

I’m excited about the message of this recording, the idea of home.  We all long for home, sometimes lose our way, and sometimes lose our welcome.  Wrapped up in the longing is how we each really do need to belong somewhere and with someone.  After all, it’s not just Dorothy who understands, “there’s no place like home.” It’s you and me, too.

I’m equally excited about the music of this recording. Our first project was a musical experiment, ending up more folk rock than anything else.  With this project, we’ve found our sound, and it’s rock, filled with singable melodies, guitar harmonies, a solid beat, and even some phantom organ. We’ll be posting a few online samples soon after the holidays, so look for them.

Like I said at the beginning, we’re almost there.

Monday morning this week I penned two verses and a chorus, entitled “Eyes of Heaven.”   I began with a response to Psalm 23, and also included ideas from Psalm 17.  The Lord is my Shepherd, and He is watching…what an amazing truth! 

I’m also reading A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 by W. Phillip Keller.  This book was my bedtime reading last night, and I woke up full of the knowing that I am the Lord’s.  A bridge to Eyes of Heaven sung out inside me:

The question is who am I anyway?

The answer is the source of my identity:

The Maker of starry heights and rainy nights is watching me

Because I am His!

This song in 6/8 time feels like a hug that releases into a spinning dance.  The music is almost finished, and already my heart sings along.

May you be hugged with the understanding of just how loved you are.  Truly, the Eyes of Heaven are watching.  -C.

Studio Saturdays are full days. A six hour session is sandwiched between an 80 mile commute to the studio and an 80 mile commute back home again.

The drive time to the studio is usually a working session: Eli and I listen again to the demos of the songs we are working on that day, discussing in detail what we’ve already rehearsed over and over.

The drive home is more relaxed.  We listen to a scratch recording of what we’ve accomplished that day, maybe a few times, and then we talk.  We talk about the day and about what we’ll work on next and about things that have nothing to do with music.

Conversation usually comes full circle back to the music we make, about production and promotion and playing out.  On the way home from a session in February, something was settled for me.  The conversation from that day replays in my mind, urging me forward, washing my eyes for a clearer vision of why I began recording in the first place.

It’s about the message.  The stories in my songs hold a message of hope and determination I am compelled to tell.  In some small way, I align myself with Paul who said, “For necessity is laid upon me; yea woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel.” (1 Corinthians 9:16)

I was confessing to Eli how I love the process of recording, but I’m still not at ease with taking the stage.  I was mulling it over out loud, telling him how I’m not interested in being a star; I just want to get the message of my music out there.

“But no one will know about your music unless you go out and expose them to it by playing live.  If you believe in the message, you have to play out,” Eli replies.  Sage advice from a neophyte and it dogs my heels as I prepare for another studio session this weekend.

I believe in the message.  There’s a place we can feel at home.  Everyone cries out for rescue at some time, for comfort.  Everything can be stripped away and yet faith remains, and because of faith, praise arises, hope arises.  There’s a pattern of prayer in this life that ends in a dance. Love goes on.

This is the message to be delivered by this second studio project.  We can each find our way home, coming back from where we have been to where we belong.

I believe in the message.

Yesterday in service, Hunter Barnes shared a word from Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 3:14-21. As he spoke, focusing in on the love of God, he made the above statement. It’s been said before, and I may have even heard it said before, but yesterday was like hearing it for the first time.

See, I’m the kind of person that can easily be self-righteous. Tell me the guidelines and I’ll follow them….religiously.  From this perspective, I would make a statement about God’s love by saying, “God will never love you less, even if you ___________” (fill in the blank with whatever separates you from God).

I think that’s why this statement grabbed my attention with such force.  Lately, I feel so desperate to know more of God’s love.  The love of God is not about trying to keep hold on something that might slip away.  God’s love is constant, unchanging, and as Romans 8: 38-9 assures us, “… neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor ruling spirits, nothing now, nothing in the future, no powers, nothing above us, nothing below us, nor anything else in the whole world will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.“  It has nothing to do with me at all.  This active love, this passionate pursuit of God for my affection, is mine, because He gives it freely.

He really will never love me any more than He does right now.  I’ll take that.

(You can hear Hunter’s message from Jan 11th here: http://www.zarephath.org/sections/podcasts/)

Several weeks ago I had a dream about all of this, and the dream revelaed a clear focus for my prayers for Liz.  A week later I had a chance to catch up with a friend at a Christmas party. As she poured out her heart, I realized we share a similiar struggle, how to hope in the face of regularly reinforced discouragement.  How do you believe in faith when what stirs in your heart is dislike?

As we talked, I shared my dream, and the prayer direction God has provided, and my friend wanted to find a quiet spot and pray right then for Liz, while we were together.  (I love friends like that!)  We prayed, for wisdom, for Liz to really know God’s love, and for the enemy’s grip to be dissolved.  My friend asked for God to do something “right away, right away, let an answer be seen right away.”

I have to confess I wanted to believe even as I thought, ”No, it won’t be right away, I can’t imagine it changing right away.”

The next night my daughter walked through the door and told me she was home for good.  She was moving back in beause she needs accountability in her life.  I kept thinking I missed something, that she couldn’t really be making this decision, it was so uncharacteristic.

God answers prayer, and yes, Sue, he answered your “right away” prayer in spite of my unbelief.

There’s still a lot to pray about.  It’s not all neat and tidy.  It is better.  And I have more courage to pray for the things I really desire, for Liz, for myself, and yes, right away!

The risk is in the transfer.  Not everything will transfer nice and tidy from program to program.  So this is a warning that you may not be able to immediately view all as it should be at cindyendres.com.

Because this blog is an independent component to my site, I can still talk to you here.  That’s my reassurance.

Wish me luck, and technological savvy…

That’s what this past Sunday night was like for me.  I have pondered doing the coffeehouse circuit for a while, and this was actually my first one. Suffice it to say, it was not like leading worship.  I know what to expect when I lead worship… people are with me, playing and/or singing along, and we approach God together.  That’s familiar territory for me.

Playing a coffeehouse is like becoming background music, just live.  As an artist, you are not the focus, but a flavor, like the coffee of the day in melody form.  In some ways, it feels a lot like home, like playing my songs at my keyboard, just not in my front music room: this time it was at the back of the Cosmic Coffee Cup in Easton.

I could belong here. I’m at ease at my piano.  I met some quality people, and enjoyed good conversation with fellow believers I earnestly hope to establish continuing dialog with. That’s worth a lot. And there was coffee.

I listened to poetry written and read by Jamie Marshall, and was pleasantly surprised to enjoy it.  I confess I came with preconceived ideas about how the poetry reading would be.  I especially enjoyed a piece called “Apocalypse Again.”  It sounded like a song to me.

All this to say, I’m pressing on.  I’ll find out where belong as I continue to explore strange new (and sometimes cosmic) worlds. And there was coffee, so the feeling of home was near.

Onward, toward the goal.

I’m playing a local venue this Sunday night, September 28th.  It’s an outreach event at the Cosmic Coffee Cup on College Hill, the neighborhood of Easton, PA near Lafayette College.  Sponsored by One Truth Church, also from College Hill, this event will benefit Bikes To Rwanda.

Coffee is free. Music is free.  James Marshall will be sharing his poetry at 6 pm.  I’ll be on around 7 pm for a 45 minute set.  Copies of my new release, Petition, will be available Sunday night, with a portion of each sale to benefit Bikes To Rwanda.

Follow the links below for directions and details.  I hope to see you there.

http://www.onetruthchurch.com/blog

http://www.cosmiccupcoffee.com/

http://bikestorwanda.com/

Sometimes, it means begging.

Sometimes, it means a statement of position, followed by signatures of registered voters affirming the statement, demonstrating by agreement of the above signed that this request is significant and merits a response from the party addressed.

Sometimes, it means a humble request to a sovereign power.

Its this last definition that I had in mind when I entitled my new EP Petition.  Born as a prayer in real time, this humble request to my Sovereign King is a progression from the heart, a medley of need and desire and resolve. A fusion of six songs (including my first), backed by a simple piano-acoustic guitar duo, Petition is a mellow offering.  I share it as an invitation and I pray it will become your petition as well.

Release date for is set for September 26, 2008. Details coming soon at www.cindyendres.com.

I visited today with great friends (in from out of town) and realized again how much we all need each other.  Isolation insulates, protects to a certain degree, but its just not fun after awhile.  We all need someone in our life who shares our history, understands inside jokes, and can pick up a conversation after a year of separation with the ease of a visit yesterday.  I’m truly thankful for friends that know me and love me anyway.  What a gift.

I have to confess, I suffered some anxiety before my friends arrived today.  Our shared history includes painful memories, and I was unsure what would surface, how I would react, and if I could handle the impact of memories revisited.  I really was anxious for nothing.  Our friendship is stronger than the pain, longer than the miles of highway between our home addresses, and so worth the effort…so completely worth the effort of keeping in touch and making more memories.

During our visit, I was encouraged to post here more frequently.  I accept the challenge.  People want to know what’s going on, and I’m not methodical enough about it all.  If a task isn’t actually written in my dayminder, I tend to pass it by for a more pressing (and yes, written) deadline.  Sadly enough, I pass by the valuable effort of actively pursuing great (though distant) friendship with the same inconsistancy.

My loss.

I repent.  Truly, in the literal sense of the word, I repent.  I turn away from my past behavior with the determination to more actively enjoy the treasure of these Truly Great Friends, whatever it takes.

Maybe I should write this in my dayminder…