It was a new decade. 1980 ushered in more than just a new set of numbers to write on the top line of my bank checks. I was ready for it– or so I thought–when I heard the group Styx proclaim, “Don’t look now, but here come the ’80s!”  from their 1979 song “Borrowed Time.”

In January I received a call from Stan Morse, musical director and arranger for the Columbus, Ohio-based American Entertainment Productions (AEP). I was asked to fetch my guitar, place the phone down and play whatever set of chords or song-pieces he asked for. After apparently passing the audition, I received another call requesting I fly out in just a few days to meet the group at the Toledo airport.

I knew my dream was to be a professional musician, but the sudden opportunity jolted me. My biggest prospect up to that point was to get a proper job since my year as a college student didn’t pan out so well. I had just passed the test to become a school bus driver, and I was ready to start my new phase of life when I received the call from AEP. I took advantage of the few remaining days before my plane left on Sunday to pull together a suitcase and some new clothes. I was 19-years-old, for goodness sake–the wet behind my ears was still glistening, and I was leaving home for the first time.

The gentleman who eventually hired me said the group would be on the road for at least six months before any break was possible. My heart sank–I wouldn’t see my family for a long time.

The one time I took a plane trip by myself was the previous summer, when I flew to visit a friend in Colorado Springs. Now, a few months later, I was standing in the nearly-deserted Toledo airport with my guitar, waiting for my luggage to appear on the conveyor belt. I stood there with a lump in my throat, not knowing that my family back home in Fullerton were also having a tough time adjusting to the cyclone that just blew through our lives.

I made a seamless transition into road life over the next several weeks as we zig-zag’d across the US several times in a van. By March we all boarded an international flight to perform for the USO in Iceland and Germany. I was taking large leaps into the big unknown. My eyes, ears and heart were filling with new sights, cultures,  accents and landscapes. I was creating what would one day become cherished experiences and life-long friendships.

There we are on Harrah’s marquee: Sunshine Express with The Raisers!

By year’s end, the news of John Lennon’s assassination was a constant presence on the lounge TV at Harrah’s Lake Tahoe. We were booked there as the opening act for two different week-long runs: one with the great ’60s band, Paul Revere and the Raiders; the second with blues legend B.B. King. What a mind-blowing experience that was–going from almost becoming a school bus driver to playing music professionally, meeting stars and letting a stagehand roll my amp into place. I was ready to see how the new decade could surprise me any more. Dennis DeYoung  of Styx was right: the 80s ushered in what would change my life forever.

Listening to the purr of the trash truck stopping and starting in our neighborhood this morning reminds me that we need to purge our home of unnecessary stuff real soon. Brenda just reminded me that as we add new things, the old stuff being replaced needs to be trashed, sold or given away. The propensity to hoard can make home a place where we no longer find rest.

I think my life is that way, too. There are only so many things I can focus on at one time, anyway. What about those pesky habits and bad relationships we keep nursing–like a stale drink at a dull party? I saw a presentation on PBS the other night about multitasking. I didn’t realize it, but on any given day we may be dealing with four separate layers of tasks at one time. No wonder we fail at making deadlines, crash the car too often, and perform poorly in our jobs.

I guess there comes a time when we need to purge our lives of unnecessary clutter. A recent study from Oxford University indicates:

“People who have a large number of Facebook friends might be kidding themselves. In fact, the study said it’s impossible for your brain to handle more than 150 real or online friends. ‘In this particular study, the researcher defined friends as somebody you have contact with at least once a year,’ said Dr. Ken Robbins, a psychologist at Stoughton Hospital. He said it’s hard to get to the root of this study because it all depends on how one defines the word ‘friend.'”

The question we need to ask ourselves–like the preceding “friend” question–is what number of things in life can we effectively manage on a daily basis? We hold on to stuff (people) because we think we can use it (them) someday (ouch!). Isn’t that what we hear those crazy hoarder people say on TV? We need to size-up our lives and make a true evaluation. My dad took the “I’m gonna be brutal” stand when deciding what to keep and what to toss during his recent move.

Maybe it’s time to be just as brutal in our personal lives as well. Brenda always says: “Only have things that you cherish and cherish the things that you have.” So cleaning house by focusing on what’s cherished may be a great way to welcome spring.

With finding one’s purpose in life, passion is a key ingredient to seeing your purpose lived out. I ran across 12 questions that help define one’s level of passion when it comes to starting a new business, project, opportunity, etc. I believe we need to ask ourselves hard questions before we get out and try and run with the bulls. This query is truly an eye-opening activity. Rosabeth Moss Kanter is a professor at Harvard Business School and an author. This test comes from her blog entry of March 29, 2010. See if your passion is up to snuff:

1. Do I feel strongly about the need for this?

2. Does the idea fit my long-held beliefs, values, and convictions?

3. Have I dreamed about something like this for a long time?

4. Do I think that this is vital for the future of people I care about?

5. Do I get excited when I think about it, and convey excitement when I talk about it?

6. Am I convinced that this can be accomplished?

7. Am I willing to put my credibility on the line to promise action on it?

8. Am I willing to spend time to sell it to others who might not understand or support it?

9. Can I make this the major focus of my activities?

10. Am I willing to devote personal time, above and beyond organizational time, to see that this happens?

11. Do I feel strongly enough to ignore negativity and fight for this?

12. Am I committed to seeing this through, over the long haul?

Passing the passion test doesn’t guarantee success, but without it, the journey can’t even begin.

Sometimes you’ve just got to stop what you’re doing and make a change. I felt that way last spring as I came just short of my seventh anniversary as a worship leader at our former church. The job was a blessing and the people there made my tenure a joy.

The problem comes when the job takes over and the calling of God takes a back seat. The mindset, then, is feeling financially locked-in, making it seemingly impossible to leave. For me, it was the right time to leave; I knew it without a doubt. I had to take a break, trust God for our household expenses and make the leap of faith. After all, isn’t God our provider and not our employer?

I read an article in Premier Guitar magazine yesterday about Bonnie Raitt. She is releasing her first album in seven years this April. The interviewer asked what took her so long. Her answer rang true in my own heart as I pondered the past year of relative quiet, obscurity and time spent as a normal, every-day-guy in the congregation of our new church (that’s a whole other blog entry!). Bonnie replied:

“Sometimes you need to clear the deck and let the field go fallow…being home is a real vacation you want to have. So I got to balance some of the other aspects of my life and be with family and friends and really enjoy some time at home.”

Letting the ground go fallow–plowing it and getting it ready for the seeds of a new crop– is a gift that God gives us every so often. It’s the physical, spiritual and emotional rest we receive during the down time that restores us and prepares us for new opportunities. I think of this past year as my “Year of Jubilee” (Leviticus 27:21).  What a wonderful year of restoration it has been!

“Break up your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the Lord, till He come and rain righteousness upon you.”(Hosea 10:12).

One of the year’s greatest movies for me was Woody Allen’s Midnight In Paris. I loved it for several reasons, but mostly for the journey on which the lead character takes us as he becomes a special guest to noted personalities who lived in the 1920s. I loved the cars, the clothes, the Woody Allen dialogue, the beautiful cinematography–but mostly the message of the film.

The original screenplay won Woody Allen an Academy Award a few weeks ago, deservedly so. In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Allen said the script was written for star, Owen Wilson. He knew the story would be set in Paris, but he didn’t know what it would be about. The legendary director then said, “I went for a couple of months without being able to come up with anything. Then one day it occurred to me — if I had my protagonist walking around Paris at midnight and a car pulled up and they said get in and they took him on an interesting adventure. So that’s how it formed.”

One of the early scenes in the film involved Wilson’s friend, who was described later in the film as pedantic (a person displaying of useless knowledge or minute observance of petty rules or details). Every time the friend comes upon a famous painting or an historic place, he seems to know everything about it. As Owen takes his adventure into 1920s Paris, he meets famous artists such as Picasso and Salvidor Dali, and writers Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein. Owen’s character, a writer himself, is strengthened by the wisdom and critique these great artists offer him on his first novel. When he leaves his 1920s friends behind each night, he is transported back to his modern-day hotel, his preoccupied fiance, and her shallow, wealthy parents. The know-it-all friend continues to give Owen history lessons on the great artists he actually visits each midnight. Owen then begins to correct his friend on inaccurate details, surprising him by showing the hopeless pedantic that he may not know as much as he thinks.

I’ve met many a know-it-all in my day; they obviously have a deep need to validate themselves by spouting their superior knowledge, and obviously seem to enjoy the sound of their own voice in the process. As I watched the movie unfold, and Wilson’s character began to gain the courage to stand up to the pedagogic friend, I thought of a favorite quote by Tom Waits: “The bad thing about history is, that the people who were there are not talking, and the people that weren’t there, you can’t shut them up.”

Midnight In Paris takes the audience on a wonderful escape into an idealized world and a lost era. A Daily Mail Online article summarized it like this: “The real message of the movie is not the one that it seems to be laboring — that nostalgia is a trap — but that life and art are both worth the most meticulous re-examination and a life without art or romance is one that’s only half-lived.”

Whatever the conclusion, Midnight In Paris is a wonderful movie–fully entertaining, warm, wise and sure to sell plane tickets for vacations to France this summer.