I am INCREDIBLY embarrassed about my music. I get embarrassed singing it to anyone, I get embarrassed when people tell other people that I write music, I get embarrassed about any and all parts of music + Lauren in any conversation. Honestly, I think it’s stupid of me, probably selfish and prideful in some sort of deep way that needs psychotherapy to drive out of me, and I want to get over it. I want to get over it particularly for Nate.

You see, Nate and I always had an inside joke that I “seduced” him like a siren with my music and then wouldn’t play for him once he had sufficiently fallen in love with me and married me. He said it was a cruel trick of mine, I shrugged and tried not to hum out loud. Again, I don’t understand why I do that. When we were first getting together over a ski trip to Colorado with our church, I brought my guitar, and although he liked me before, this action plus singing my songs with it particularly did the trick in securing his affections for me.

When he moved to Chicago while we were dating, I gave him a CD with my songs on it, and he would listen to it a lot. The CD wasn’t/isn’t much…I had recorded them when I was 18, my voice wasn’t fully matured, some of them I had only been playing the guitar for about 3 months, they were simply done, etc. But he loved it. And he loved me for it.

Once married, I would sing for him occasionally, but not nearly enough as he wanted me to. I guess I thought we had a lifetime for me to sing all the songs he wanted, and I took it for granted. One night, we were driving in the car somewhere, and he said, “Lauren, would you sing for me at my funeral?”

Me: “Heck, no. I wouldn’t even be able to stand up, much less sing for you at your funeral. Besides, let’s hope I die first.”

Him: “You wouldn’t sing for me even at my funeral?”

Me: “Nope.”

Him: “Yes, you would.”

Makes me sad–No, sad isn’t the word…it’s some deep indescribable melancholy about the way things were, are now, the harshness of reality and death–to think about it, because he was absolutely right. I sang for him at his funeral. I sang my heart out until I was bawling like a baby onstage in front of everyone. I made everybody finish the song I had written just for him 5 days after he died. I wrote it on the horrible flight back from Oregon. The one where I had gone with my handsome, strong, invincible husband and sweet almost 3 month baby, and returned a week later with his ashes in a 5 inch long plastic box. It’s overwhelming to even try to think about now…

I’ll just tell you…it was a bad, bad flight for me. I opened my bible, and just asked God to do something, ANYTHING for me. Help me, help me. He showed me Job, “For the Lord gives and He takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Yes, that was it. Hell was glaring me straight in the face, so what was God telling me to do? Praise Him. Thank Him. So I did.

Here are the lyrics to my song I wrote mid-flight. The thing is being weird and won’t let me format it prettily, so I’ll just let it be weird and write it uglily (yep, that’s a word.):

Who am I to question You?/So high above me/For You give, and You take away./Blessed be Your Holy name.

Thank You for the gift You gave/I’ve never known a love like that/A life so full and a heart so true/No, I’ll never forget my beautiful Nate.

Thank You, thank You, thank You, thank You.

Lord, Your grace falls on me. Lord, Your grace falls on me.

Now he’s running so wild and free/For You give life eternally/So turn your eyes upon me now/And I will lift up mine and sing.

Thank You, thank You, thank You, thank You.

Lord, Your grace falls on me. Lord, Your grace falls on me.

I will keep praising. You have turned my sorrow to joy, my weeping to dancing, and death into Life.

Lord, Your grace falls on us. Lord, Your grace falls on us.

Everybody at Nate’s funeral sang that the Lord’s grace was falling on us. Nate would have loved that. What greater honor could there be that at your funeral, people thank God for His grace and goodness in giving you to them, and them praise Him for eternal life? And I knew God, especially, was proud that we must’ve been screaming back at Satan attempts to destroy us with such powerful words.

So…the point of all this is to say that Coffee Ambassadors is raising funds to buy a building in order to roast more, open a coffee shop, help more farmers, do more missions…etc. I can’t think of a business I want to support more for all the good it does now and the potential good it will one day do.

There are a million ideas floating around about how to raise said funds, but one practical way is selling my music. The CD that I gave Nate when we were falling in love.

So, if you would like to support Coffee Ambassadors, you can go to www.coffeeambassadors.com and buy some songs for 99 cents each. Click on Lauren’s music in the left hand column. If it does well, I’ll probably go in and record the ones I’ve written since we were married, and the ones I’ve written since he died. Also, the introduction, while well-written, makes me sound like some sort of celebrity, and that makes me want to curl up into a ball and die. So, either don’t read it, or just imagine me curled up in a ball, dying while you read it. ha ha.

I’m not going to be afraid to share my music, because Nate always wanted me to, and he would be proud of me. Thank you, Nate. Love you.

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