The mood in the car on the way back from Thanksgiving wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as it was on the way there. We were stuffed. We were spent. And we were a little stressed.

Add three days of holiday eating, one sleepless night and doctor calls due to a toddler’s overstuffed belly and ruptured eardrum, one Black Friday, 12 people in one house for three days, then news that’s not so encouraging, and you’re sure to find a carload of peeps ready for deep breaths and quiet space to regroup.

But the Christmas music played on.

We were blindly oblivious to the joy we could’ve received from the Christmas tunes until Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Then everything changed. The whole car woke up. And everyone started singing along.

What was it about this Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer that had the power to light up a whole carload of travelers weary from the journey?

It was magical, powerful, noteworthy, at least for me, the one who’s hyperaware of just about everything. The joy lasted for one, maybe two minutes, the length of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’s song, and that’s about it. Then everything returned to status quo.

That is, until the next day when we passed two freshly-built snowmen on the way out of the neighborhood. A similar glimmer of hope rushed through me. An innocence I desperately needed. A fresh perspective in the midst of the monotonous and mundane.

We passed those snowmen on the way out and in, out and in again. And as we passed, I felt gratitude for their creator, thankful for the frosty gift of simplicity.

So what is it about Rudolph and Frosty that light us up? Why do we listen to their songs? Why do we watch their shows year after year? Why do we buy stuffed Misfit Toys and Rudolphs with shiny noses? And why do we build Frosties with black hats and carrot noses?

I believe we deeply crave Rudolph and Frosty’s innocence. We’re desperate for the glimmer of hope they bring to the table. We long for things to be simple again, for days when all we need to worry about is singing and frolicking in the snow. We want to be jolly and happy, and wouldn’t it be awesome if all our cares washed away in the singing of one simple song? What can we do to bring back the days of old?

On the other hand, Rudolph and Frosty remind us we’re human. We relate to their simple, but profound stories. Rudolph and Frosty are courageous and bold, even in the face of adversity. They know they were created for a reason, and we see them most fully alive when they’re living in the center of their purpose. Hiding the best parts of us, letting our gifts and talents melt away into oblivion isn’t wise. It’s foolish. It’s a shame. We know we were made for more. We know there’s life and light waiting to shine in and through us.

So we watch. And we listen. We sing. And we build.

For Rudolph and Frosty represent you and me in the most simple, but profound of ways.

You and me – with gifts seen and unseen.

You and me – with gifts expressed and unexpressed.

You and me – with beauty and pain and everything in-between.

You and me – waiting for magical moments, ready to break free.

You and me – desperate for innocence and purity, longing for simpler days, slower days, days when we can give and share our gifts in community, days when we can just BE without fear of what MIGHT BE.

So yes, we watch. We listen. We sing. And we build.

Because Rudolph and Frosty? Their stories are our stories.

It was a work day for me. I’d made a quick stop at the mall to grab some mittens for my daughter and pay a bill at Sears, and was on my way out. Just seconds after I’d rejected the hair straightener dude who tried to sell me a hot iron as I passed, I walked briskly towards another kiosk where Pete was singing and playing guitar. I’m not sure what came over me, but I knew I needed to talk to this guy. Within a matter of 5-10 seconds, I got the gist of his brilliant business, grabbed his card, and told him I’d be back to chat another day. It was all a bit surreal, really. I’m pretty sure we were supposed to cross paths.

I didn’t have much time before I had to get to my appointment, but couldn’t wait to know more. I looked at the clock in my car and realized I had about five minutes before I really had to go. So I quickly typed Pete’s URL, www.projectpeteford.com, into my phone, pulled up his site, and confirmed, this dude is awesome! He has a music video (at the end of this post), a serenade store where he writes and records songs for people, and a happiness store where he’s working towards funding small, but fun random acts of kindness towards others.

My mind raced about the ways Pete and I could collaborate with his songwriting, my writing, and our joint love for philanthropy and sharing peoples’ stories. Later that night, I shared the story with my husband and showed him Pete’s website. Our whole family watched his music video and listened to sample serenades on his site.

One week later, I plugged Pete into my schedule and made a trip back to the mall!

I approached and engaged Pete in a straight forward manner. I figured there was nothing to lose, and at this point, I knew I wanted to share Pete’s story on the blog, assuming he was open to the idea.

So before I tell you more about Pete and his journey to singing and songwriting, let me share what he’s doing at the mall this holiday season! Pete’s rented a kiosk on the second floor of Ridgedale Mall in Minnetonka, Minnesota. It’s called the Serenade Store. (Yes, I’m telling you this because you need to go meet him and hear him play for yourself!) For a reasonable fee, Pete will write and record a personalized song for your loved one! All you need to do is complete a short form with a few questions about the recipient of your song, and Pete will have a song ready for you in 15 minutes. You receive a CD and digital copy of the song, and there’s even an option to create an accompanying DVD slideshow and have Pete perform the song live on location if you wish! How awesome is that?! The dude is super creative. And there’s one thing you have to know – these aren’t cheesy songs, these are awesome, professional songs! Pete has three serenade samples on his website if you want to check them out. Based on everything I’ve heard and seen, I think this would be a GREAT Christmas gift for someone, how about you?!

Now that we’ve covered Pete’s Serenade Store, let’s move on to his story.

Pete says he was born with style and charisma, but growing up, he never considered himself a musician. He started playing guitar when he was 13 or 14 years old, and started singing in college. He began business school, but part way through, had an epiphany about life. Pete dropped out of business school and moved to Argentina. (Sound like a life-altering decision? Yep, it was.) While Pete was in Argentina, he sang, played guitar, and taught music and English.

When Pete returned to the United States, he re-enrolled in college and got his music degree. After obtaining his degree, he moved to California where he played and performed. It was then that Pete wrote a song for his girlfriend. The idea “exploded” more than he ever imagined.

Pete felt called to return home to Minnesota, but continued writing songs. He originally thought his songs would primarily be a gift given between husbands and wives, but it’s been much “bigger than that.” Pete’s even performed his original, customized songs at funerals, and his serenades have been given to recognize top-performing employees at corporations.

Pete shared that there are a few other people around the country who are doing what he’s doing (i.e., writing and performing personalized songs for people to give as gifts), but not many. “It’s very novel to write a song in 15 minutes,” Pete shared, so people think that’s cool. Typically, songs like these can run as high as $250. Pete’s most affordable option is $50 for a super cool customized song!

Pete’s “not where he wants to be yet” when it comes to music. Yet he’s slowly, but surely working towards BIG dreams. “When your priority is to do what you love,” said Pete, “you gotta figure out how to keep the dream going and give back.”

Pete gets asked a lot if he was born playing music. He actually thinks it’s more about work ethic than talent. Pete’s a firm believer in the 10,000 hour theory, that no one really becomes a master of their craft until they’ve put in at least 10,000 hours practicing. So he’s putting in the hours wherever he can, he’s doing what he loves, and he’s dreaming big with the hopes that one day, his music dreams will come true.

As we wrapped up our time together, Pete shared, “It’s the little things that make a huge difference.” So let’s take time to support Pete. Let’s love on a dude who’s following his dreams and doing awesome things with his gift of music. Check out his website, definitely visit him at the Ridgedale Mall if you’re local, and stay to chat a while. Maybe, just maybe, you have someone in your life who would LOVE one of Pete’s customized songs this Christmas!

 

I’ve been intrigued by the psychology of Disney’s Frozen since I saw it in the movie theater twice in one day. But beyond the psychology, there’s something else that will always tie our family’s heart to Frozen. Our nine-year-old daughter’s name is Elsa. After Frozen released, we downloaded the entire Frozen album from iTunes. Elsa and my husband proceeded to memorize every word of every song. And now? Well, let’s just say she’s overdosed on Frozen and is taking a sabbatical. Because with all the Frozen mania, I’m pretty sure that wherever she goes, people reference Frozen when they hear her name. “You’re Elsa, like Frozen?!”

Halloween 2014 was bound to be filled with millions of little Elsas and Annas. In fact, I asked our Elsa if she wanted to dress up as Elsa this year, and she said she’s going to wait until she’s 17 and get a “real” fancy Elsa dress for Halloween. But I was right about those millions of girls dressing up as Elsa and Anna. As I peered through a window in my daughter’s dance studio Halloween week, I saw six girls dressed as Elsa and two dressed as Anna. That represented just one dance class of 15 little girls.

On November 4, 2014, the Wall Street Journal featured an article titled “Elsa dominates Anna in Frozen Merchandise Sales.” It’s a really fascinating article if you’re interested in the psychology and popularity of Frozen, so definitely check it out. But this blog isn’t about numbers. It isn’t about sales. And it isn’t about data, marketing or anything of the like. So I have no intention of digging deeper into sales of Elsa merchandise vs. Anna merchandise.

But I would like to explore the WHY behind “Elsa dominates Anna in Frozen Merchandise Sales.” Because I like to analyze things like that. It’s simply fascinating and kind of fun.

So here we go. Let’s “Let it Go.”

Anna is everything everyone looks for in a sister or a friend. She’s vibrant, loving, energetic, spontaneous, and confident. Anna is authentic. She grieves the loss of her sister, loves chocolate, and is a romantic at heart. Anna is determined and loyal, and won’t let anyone stop her from accomplishing her mission. Not to mention, she’s cute, beautiful and rocks that green coronation dress.

But then there’s Elsa.

We identify so strongly with Elsa because of her gift.

Elsa possesses a special gift. She discovered that gift at a young age and used it for good. But eventually, the gift brought pain into her life. In fact, the gift she once used for good hurt a loved one, her own sister. The only solution was to limit Elsa’s contact with people, and to “keep her powers hidden from everyone.”

Elsa had a gift. Her life had purpose. Yet, she was asked to “conceal it, don’t feel it, don’t let it show.”

THIS is why we identify so strongly with Elsa. THIS is why “Elsa dominates Anna in Frozen Merchandise Sales.”

So Elsa hid away. She put gloves on. She became measured, reserved, and isolated. She was “a good girl.” Ultimately, Elsa spent too much of her life fearing her gift. She held back. She was scared that horrible things would happen if she released her power. She was scared that releasing her gift, wild and free, would have consequences.

Eventually, Elsa couldn’t keep it in anymore.

She had to break free. She had to break through. She sought freedom to use her gift with wild abandon.

When Elsa finally broke free, she made beauty with her gift. “That perfect girl is gone,” she sang from the tall ice castle she created in the wilderness.

Let’s face it, we’re disingenuous when we hide our gifts. There’s a falsity in putting on the good girl face. We aren’t perfect, but we are beautifully gifted.

Truth be told? We’re all like Elsa.

We’re all powerful, beyond our belief.

We’ve all been gifted with lovely, beautiful, amazing powers.

But sometimes, often, our gifts scare us.

Because we know there’s more to life than this.

We know, intuitively, that God put us here for a reason. We have a purpose to fulfill. We’re here for such a time as this.

Yes, we want to break free. Free from bondage. The good girl, the perfect girl, the measured, reserved, isolated girl wants to be free.

So we relate to Elsa. No longer could she sit on her gift. She let it go. She let. it go.

Yes, that’s what we want. To let go. To be free. To be released, to be me.

Gloriously, beautifully, powerfully, mysteriously, ridiculously free.

Me.

So I’ve presented my case, now it’s your turn! I’d love to know who you relate to more in Disney’s Frozen, Elsa or Anna, and why. Let’s chat in the comments!

And did you know I’m doing a GIVEAWAY today? I’m giving away ONE Disney FROZEN Collector’s Edition Blu-Ray DVD + DVD + Digital Copy! I know a lot of you already own Frozen, but a lot of you don’t. And NO household with girls should be without a copy of Frozen this Thanskgiving. So leave a comment on the blog, visit my Facebook page, follow me on Twitter, complete the Rafflecopter entries for each below, and you’ll be entered to win the DVD! Giveaway runs through Friday. I’ll notify the winner promptly so I can get you the DVD in time for Thanksgiving!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

We saw the smoke billow black from a distance.

It was obvious. Something was on fire. And we were headed straight for the flames.

The girls and I had a simple morning planned. Church. Lunch. Target. Home. But we hit a detour on our way to Target.

With every turn, the smoke got closer. We agreed before we got there, this was going to be the biggest fire any of us had seen.

We were right. It was the only house fire we’d witnessed that close, and it was a big one.

There it was. A mini mansion burning up in flames. Fire trucks, ambulances, police and what seemed like a hundred people stood by watching it go down.

We pulled into the closest neighborhood and made our way through sidewalked streets. Parents and kids on bikes walked towards the flames. Cars were parked at the intersection in lines, and continued to pull up behind us, too. The fire was in plain sight. Some stood. Some sat. We watched in amazement as the mini mansion went down in flames.

The girls and I sat for 15, maybe 20 minutes, just watching.

This was a rare sight. I wondered why nobody was doing anything. Why wasn’t the fire being fought? Why were the fire fighters letting this mini mansion go up in flames in front of their eyes? Why were we all just standing there? Why wasn’t somebody yelling, screaming? Stop the fire! Put out the fire! For God’s sake, stop the fire!

Everyone just stood there.

Nobody seemed worried. Not even a bit.

I decided. Either the fire had gotten so out of control that they’d decided to let it go down in flames, or the fire was intentional. But if it was intentional, the timing was sure weird. Sunday noon. Intentionally start a fire on Sunday, the holiest of days, the supposed day of rest? Intentionally start a fire on Sunday at noon, during family lunch hour? Why?

My nine-year-old snapped pictures upon pictures on the iPhone.

Layer by layer, the mini mansion burned in front of our eyes. The roof tumbled. Then the windows. And finally, after we’d watched a long while and the fire was nearing the ground, water kicked in from behind.

I felt like a tourist of things bad, so I told the girls it was time to go, time to escape this life going up in flames.

A week later, it still bugged me. I wasn’t sure whether that fire was intentional or accidental. So I asked friends who lived near the scene if they knew anything more. The fire was intentional. A couple had built the mini mansion, which all the neighbors agreed was beautiful, but later got divorced. A developer came along and offered top dollar for the property. So it burned baby, it burned, for the sake of cleared land for new development.

I wondered. What about the husband and wife who lived there? Did they have kids? Were they aware that this mini mansion of theirs was going down in flames that day? And if they were there, if they did know…

How did it feel to watch the life they once envisioned go down in flames?

How does it feel to watch your life go down in flames?

How does it feel to watch someone else’s life go down in flames?

We’ve all witnessed our fair share of fires.

We stand. We watch. And wonder.

Why isn’t anybody doing anything about this?

Why are we all just standing here?

Please, won’t someone stop the flames?

Somebody! Come! Make it all better!

This house. is on. FIRE!

Please!

Please.

Fight this fire!

Don’t let it go down.

Don’t let it go.

But it goes, anyway.

And we realize…

Perhaps the fire wasn’t ours to fight.

Perhaps there are times when we need to sit and watch the mess go down in flames.

Perhaps foundations were built on sand instead of soil, or rock.

Perhaps mini mansions were built where humble homes should’ve been.

Perhaps empires were erected where walls should’ve crumbled.

Perhaps egos took a front seat to others.

Perhaps dead things needed to burn to the ground before new life could rise again.

Perhaps our lives were never meant to be built, but to be broken, surrendered, and then lived.

God promises. “In this world you will have trouble.” But He also promises crowns of beauty for ashes.

So let the fires burn. Let the old, ugly, broken-down, used-up, long-ago dead things die.

Burn. Burn. Burn. 

Until there’s nothing.

But ashes.

Ashes.

New life. It rises from the ashes. It grows. It springs forth. It’s crowned with beauty, more radiant than before.

But when and how do we emerge as fellow human beings?

When do we turn from mere bystanders to helpers, firefighters of the most blazing kind?

We’re there in the kindling, before the flames ignite, before smoke’s seen with the naked eye. When something doesn’t seem right, when we get that nudge, when we hear bits and pieces of this and that going wrong? We lend a hand, open our ears and say “this is how I’m going to love you today.” We remind them they’re not alone. We point them in the way of hope. And we offer ourselves as a ray of sunshine. For God makes all things beautiful. In time.

We’re there when flames burn bright. When all’s failed, when all’s gone wrong, when there’s nothing else to do but let the flames engulf. We stand. We wait. We watch. We pray. We let them know we’re there. And we let them know we’re sorry. So sorry this is happening. So sorry your home is on fire. So sorry your life is on fire. So sorry. So sorry.

We’re there when nothing remains but ashes. When life’s hopeless, worthless, and pointless. When dusty black’s all over their feet and hands, and the mess is trailing everywhere they go. We’re there. Yep. We’re there. We’re there in the waiting and wondering if anything’s going to change. We’re there in the doubting and discouragement. We’re there in the believing nothing’s possible. But we know. Everything’s possible. All is possible. So we sit. In the ashes. With them. We get dirty when we don’t want to. Even when it costs us. Because we bear all things, together, even in the ashes.

We’re there when new life springs forth. When hope abounds. When things are looking up. When nothing but better days are bound to happen. We’re there. When dead things come to life. We’re there, rising forth as fire fighters. Trained. Determined. Ready to love and fight again.

And all the while, He’s there. Bestowing beauty for ashes, making all things beautiful. In time.

I never got her name and I didn’t get her picture. But that doesn’t mean she’s any less important.  

As I walked down the street in downtown Minneapolis, I noticed her coming towards me on the sidewalk. She wore a bright colored jersey coat with a number on the front. She carried nothing. And she was walking fairly fast, with somewhat of an urgency.

God prompted quickly – approach this woman.

The question of the month flashed through my mind.“If you didn’t have to worry about money, what would you do with your life?”

As quick as I recalled the question, I knew, without a doubt, that it wouldn’t be appropriate for this woman. So I’d decided I wasn’t going to stop her for an interview.

But there was good reason I’d been prompted to approach this woman.

Before I knew it, SHE was approaching ME.

She asked, with all sincerity and with all that was in her, “Ma’am, I’m really hungry and I’m really sick. I don’t have any money and I really need to get some food in me, now.”

Listen, people. I’m cautious. And I’m not ignorant of all the possible realities.

I’ve heard it all. I’ve heard the stories of fakes and fraudulents on the street begging for money when in reality they’re raking in thousands. I’ve heard about people who beg and then go spend the money on drugs and alcohol. 

And I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen what wasted looks like. I’ve seen what high looks like. I’ve seen what overdose looks like. I’ve seen what the worst of mental illness looks like. I’ve seen. it all.

And let me just say? This woman was none of those things.

This woman was hungry.

This woman was weak.

And this woman was sick. Physically sick.

There was an urgency about her, a desperation that I couldn’t ignore.

The woman shared that she had diabetes and was out of insulin. So not only was she hungry, but she was feeling very ill, too.

I knew she was telling the truth. This wasn’t a lie. So I dug in my wallet, grabbed a $5 bill and gave it to her so she could get some food. She thanked me profusely, gave me a hug, said “God bless you,” and took a few steps in the other direction as if she was going on her way.

Just as she’d taken a few steps in the other direction. And just as I was verifying…

“Do you need any help? Are you going to be able to get some food nearby? Do you need help getting your medicine?”

She turned her back to me, bent her head down, and hung her head over a roped off area where we’d been standing. She was quite literally spitting up a little bit because she was so sick. And she appeared to be sweating. This was not a well woman.

“Are you okay? Is there anything else I can do to help?” I said, as I broke out another $3 from my wallet. Common sense told me this woman needed food NOW and $5 wasn’t going about to cut it in downtown Minneapolis.

I passed her the extra $3 in a hurry, feeling like these $8 dollars were the least of the help she needed in that moment, feeling like there was something else I should be doing for this woman. But she assured me she was on her way RIGHT NOW to get some insulin.

This was all so urgent, and all so surreal.

She hugged me again (this time even longer) and said “God bless you” again, as we parted ways.

So what can we learn from this woman?

Wow. Where to start.

Can I say that sometimes we just need to follow our gut instincts? I think God placed those instincts, those natural reactions, in us for a reason. And in this case, I needed to know whether I should protect myself from a potentially harmful situation, or whether I should help the woman in need.

My initial gut instinct was to approach the woman. My instinct told me that my question would be inappropriate for her. Right again. My instinct told me this woman was the real deal, that she was really hungry and really sick. And my instinct told me this woman was genuinely grateful for my help because of the way she hugged me not once, but twice, and the way she said “God bless you” not once, but twice. There was an urgency and a sincerity I sensed that couldn’t be contrived.

Some time later, after we’d parted ways, I started doubting my response. I wondered if I’d just been played. And I had to decide that I hadn’t been played. I had to decide this was real. This was reality. In my face. As in, respond to this need NOW or NEVER. So I responded.

This woman brought up vivid memories of my time in Haiti, particularly the whole day I spent with our two sponsored children. I remembered how I quickly learned that I had to get them food FIRST, before we could do anything else. Because when you’re really hungry, and in this woman’s case, when you’re really hungry AND sick, you can’t think of anything else except eating and getting well.

So what would this woman do if she didn’t have to worry about money? The question was completely irrelevant at that point. She just needed to get some food in her and get well. All dreaming was down the tubes. This was a matter of survival.

So I challenge you, is there someone in your life who’s in survival mode, someone who’s completely UNABLE to dream because they’re merely surviving this day? What are some ways you could send them a lifeline?

 

 

 

*This post is a part of a month-long 31 Days series titled Dreams from the Street. If you’d like to read more from my series, click here and you’ll be brought to the series landing page where all 31 posts are listed and linked! You can follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/AmyBPederson where I’ll tweet links to all 31 posts using hashtag #write31days, and I’d LOVE to connect on Facebook at facebook.com/AmyBPederson! I’m so glad you stopped by. Make yourself comfortable and take a peek around the place. You’re welcome back anytime.