Line Lover

Can I just say that I love my job?

I love my job because I love people. I'm slightly addicted, actually.
Someone asked me tonight if I get annoyed signing autographs and hugging so many people.
I see how she could think this. After all, I have just gotten off stage and gone straight to the RV to get my daughter to bed. Then, I go straight to the table and forget that I have not gone to the bathroom yet (which I swore I would do before I got on stage). But the line has already started. And it is long. Every time it gets short another group of people hop on the back and start the shedding of snake skin all over again.
And then there are the people themselves. Sometimes they talk a lot. Sometimes they don't talk at all... literally, they don't tell me their name when I ask, they just sit there with saucer eyes and a gaping mouth. Some people have body odor. Some people are sweaters. Inevitably it is the sweaty person that is also a hugger. And they want to hug you and hug you and whisper in your ear all kinds of encouraging things. There are kids who want you to sign inappropriate body parts and make smarmy comments. Mom's, who to their teenager's chagrin, simply cannot figure out how to take a picture on the iPhone and so we miserably smile through seven or eight attempts. Some people cry. Some people are close talkers. Some people want to pray over you. Some people talk and talk and talk and then right when you are giving your buddy in the band the "please save me from this man" look, they pull out ten posters they would like signed for every member of their family and their neighbor's family. Some people are right on me, nose to nose, telling me their entire life story. Some people are giddy, they call themselves stalkers, and they know every lovin' thing about me. Others are shy. Some people share their songs with me. Their poetry. Or, once, I even had a socially awkward girl pull up her shirt, lift a few rolls of body skin, and showed me the scar from her surgery she had last year. That was especially endearing.
This process, for my husband, is excruciating. So much so that he stopped participating in it years ago. You might as well be physically torturing him. Invasion of personal space? People who talk in circles and never get to the point? Strangers touching him? Germs? The possibility of weirdo-s or worse, stupid people who can't operate cameras? It kills him. I literally watch him squirm and see the years of his life withering before him.
But I look at the line and it feels like Christmas. I see all these faces. A sea of strangers. A cacophony of voices and foreign accents. A hodge-podge of every type of person imaginable. A collection of stories so astoundingly painful, terribly ordinary, and incredibly beautiful that a movie couldn't capture what is in front of me.
I look at the line and see eyes. Tired. Happy. Weary. Alive. Intense. Sincere. Gentle. Calm. Giving. Wanting. Peaceful. Restless. Tortured. Passionate. Dancing. Innocent. Wise.
I look at the line and see mouths. Smiling. Talking. Toothless. Braces. Gaps where something might just sprout up any moment now. Nibbling mouths. Pursed lips. Shy smiles. A see of mouths. And these mouths will tell me a name. And some of these mouths will tell me a story.
I look at the line and I see my family. My friends. My brothers. My sisters. My nieces. My nephews. My cousins. My grandparents. My parents.
And my love for them burns.
Sometimes more for one person than another, but always, an unexplainable, real, genuine love for each set of eyes. For each mouth. For each family member. Without reason, merit, or caution, I look into the next set of eyes and I love deeply.
Sometimes I am not sure exactly what I am supposed to do with my life. Or what I am good at. I know I'm technically a "singer" and I realize that my voice is more than tolerable because people keep listening to it... but seriously, if I don't step on stage another day in my life, I will be absolutely fine with that. Singing is not my strong suit. Or, let's put it this way, it's not what I am the most passionate about.
But people. They do something for me.
Now that's something I could make a livelihood out of. Because while my husband cringes at a line full of strangers, I am deeply humbled and moved by the fact that I get to call these people family. And when I look at them they are no more a stranger to me than my sisters.
It's hard to describe, but for the longest time I feel like God has allowed me to see people for who they are: His children.
It's as if God helps me look beyond the annoying laugh or sweaty hug, the awkward demeanor or misfit personality, the overly excited or the terribly depressing and instead, I see a friend. And for one moment in time I can hug that person, compliment them, look into their eyes, listen, and be their sister. I can simply, deeply, genuinely love them.
And that's the best job in the world. It doesn't make me a saint or a hero. Loving someone from day to day is much harder than loving them for one brief moment in a line. Still, I think I am settling into this bizarre reality that perhaps the music is just an avenue to let me look into someones eyes and love them, no matter what they look like. No matter who they are. The music allows me to get to the end of the night where I can sit on a table, and for hours, talk to a four year old girl and an 80 year old man. Talk to a mom who's fighting cancer and a mom who has left an abusive marriage with her two daughters. A dad who has lost his wife and is raising his 4 daughters by himself. A girl who wants to lead worship so bad that her heart is about to burst if she doesn't. A family who has driven three hours and spent all their birthday money to come see a show. A kid figuring out their lives. A woman trying to re-engage with God after being disillusioned. A grandfather who wants to make sure I don't miss the little moments with Annie. A 16 year old who has just been rescued from a sex trafficking ring. A blog reader who says she is quite sure we are long lost sisters. And a 65 year old man who heard What Do I Know of Holy and pulled over on the side of the road to worship.
That is my job. That is my calling. Each and every story. Each and every face. Each and every voice. Each and every person. I see them and I am filled with a love I cannot explain.
We have a new album coming out and I plan on making music for a long time to come. So don't worry James and all you other Nashville music people who get nervous when I talk this way... I'm not going anywhere.
But if you ask me what I do for a living I might not answer, "musician."
I might just answer, "I'm a line lover."

Thank You Thank you Thank You Thank You Thank You ...

I mean, I don't even know where to begin.

Of course there are a dozen small miracles to tell you about and amazing stories of how God has totally taken care of us over the past five days, but it's hard to find an appropriate starting place. It's been like five days of Christmas or Oprah's Favorite Things or five days of perpetual winnings in Bingo or Bunko or Clunko or whatever all those fun games are called that I never win anything in.
I went to the bathroom in the LAX airport this morning and the seat was up and there was a bunch of blue, sparkly, bubbly stuff smiling at me from that toilet bowl and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was the first one to pull down the toilet seat and use it for the day and my germ-a-phobic-bathroom-booty- gun-shy self let out an audible, "YEEES!" because I knew I didn't have to squat. I knew I was the first one on that pot. And it was the greatest way to start my day ever.
Right now it's the small things in life that are making us happy and keeping us going.
I want to give some thank yous and quick stories.
To our dear friends Jimmy Mac and Lori in Las Vegas for coming out to the show even though they were tired. For realizing that the reason they were at the show was because they felt like God wanted them there to take care of us when we found out we had lost everything. And for taking Ryan, Annie, and I on a TJ Maxx shopping spree the next morning to replace our most basic essentials like undies, jeans, shoes, and clothes for Annie! They gave each of us a shopping buggy and when Ryan and I came back with about two or three things in it, Jimmy said, "Now it's none of my business but I'm pretty sure you didn't bring all your boxers and unmentionables to the gig last night and I don't see any in that buggy... you people need to go back and fill it up. I don't want to see you until that buggy is full." They laughed with us. Loved on our baby. And sent us on the road with, you know... unmentionables.
To the man at the front desk who had no idea what a HELL of a day we had on Friday, but randomly decided to upgrade Ryan and I to the penthouse suite of the Palace Station hotel! We could not help but laugh at the irony. Everything we own has been destroyed today. And back home we have two cars that don't work, a bunch of hospital bills, the IRS hounding us for self-employment taxes and here we are in a 1600 square foot penthouse with 30 foot long floor to ceiling windows, a guest bathroom, a jacuzzi, doorbell, 60 something inch TV, and a shower with a steamer in it overlooking the Las Vegas strip. If they only knew...
To Lyndi Hagen and her son Josh (oh forgive me, I think that is his name!) for showing up to our Las Vegas hotel the next morning with a HUGE bag full of Mary Kay products, because, as she said, "I don't care what happens to you, you still have to feel like a girl." A woman after my own heart. I know that she gave beyond her means. She gave sacrificially from her heart and that meant more to me than anything else. It would be AMAZING if some of you ladies out there would bless her in return by placing your next skin care, make-up order with her. She would be totally surprised and she deserves it. She is a beautiful mom working hard to raise her two sons and at the same time blessing someone above and beyond. If you use Mary Kay or just want to try something out to bless one of my new friends... please, please place your next order with her. Simply order online at: www.marykay.com/lhagen3.
To Jeff and Angie Bevel who were at the Las Vegas show with their daughters and offered to give us some of their own babies' clothes. She literally went home, washed the clothes, and met us at TJ Maxx the next morning with a huge bag of the most cutest, amazingest, designer baby clothes I have ever seen!!! Seriously, Annie has been styling all week in the best little outfits ever made. And I had to think, this is what Jesus would have done. Not simply given his leftovers. His old clothes that were out of style or dirty or useless... but he would've shown us what it meant to give our best. And that's what they did, literally took their daughter's cutest outfits and gave them to our baby girl. Thank you for not giving your leftovers, but the very thing you would want to dress your little girl in. On the way out their brother gave us an envelope full of cash.
To Connie and her daughter Jenny in Las Vegas who literally met us off the highway and filled our car with diapers, wipes, clothes, cheerios, and money.
To Yasmin and Katherine from Paso Robles who sent out a facebook request for baby items and came back with an ENTIRE van full of toys, clothes, books, DVD's, a brand new boppy, baby monitor, medicine, and everything else under the moon. They drove around all morning collecting things for us and then drove another hour to bring us the items and watched Annie while I sorted. Not only did we replace everything Annie needed, but we also made an entire stack of clothes and baby goods for our guitar player Ryan Gregg and his wife who are expecting their first baby girl in June! Katherine, who is in the third grade, was a little bummed the night before because all her friends were able to affords the expensive tickets that included a meet and greet and private concert. Yasmin told me that katherine said in the car, "Mom, this is so cool. This is exactly what we talked about in church. How one person can make a difference. We are able to help them by just asking and collecting things. That is so cool... and I bet all those other kids didn't get to play with her baby." This made me smile. Not only did they bless us, but in His own way and timing, God gave this little girl a very special blessing herself. How cool is that.
And finally to Scott and Happy Saunders who went through their closets and picked out their coolest clothes so that we could have stage clothes. Their goal was to try and get clothes that "looked like our style." I got my first ever (and probably last!) pair of Kenneth Cole boots. An Abercrombie coat. Things I would have never been able to afford. Happy said that there were a million reasons she could think of to keep these incredible wardrobe pieces, but she knew she was called to give us her best. Again, I am just simply amazed. Scott gave the guys a private gift that was above and beyond what we could have ever imagined. When he found out that we didn't even need what he felt called to give us, he said, "You know what, God has still told me to. I think he just wants you to know that you are going to be taken care of above and beyond what you could ever need or ask for."
There have been, literally, a hundred other people step in the gap. This is just the beginning of the thank you's...
Wherever you find yourself today, remember that people are good. God is faithful.

Jenny Bizallion

Posted on CarePages:
"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?

But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!

Jenny Bizaillion passed from this world at 3:38pm. She was the most beautiful, wonderful friend, perfect mom, devoted sister, loyal daughter, and best wife a person could ever have.

We will see her again."

Thank you so much for your prayers and financial contributions to this wonderful family. You may leave a letter for the family at carepages.com/JennyBizaillion and may continue to donate by going to greggpearson.org. Click "Donate" and put "GPF Benevolence" in the special instructions. The current total that has been raised is $49,000. That is an amazing testimony not only of an incredible young woman who was a beautiful light in this world or of her strong and faithful family; but also of the body of Christ coming together to take care of one another in the most trying hours of this broken world.