Meeting one of my hero’s; song writer and musician Kenneth Cope

The pre-teen years weren’t easy for me (we’re they easy for anybody?).  My family moved from Utah to Virginia and Jr. High was a challenge.  I grew like a weed and was awkward in my new body.   I came from a large family of nine children and was teased at school for being Mormon.  Some days I just wanted to stay home with my little brothers and sisters and play dress-up. 

When I was 14, my family moved from Virginia to Mesa, Arizona.  I didn’t know anyone and sometimes felt alone.  I started playing tennis and ran around the track every day.  I met a few friends and started feeling like I could fit in. 

I meet a friend named Daryl Smith, read more about Daryl here (Daryl is the editor of Seeing the Everyday) who introduced me to the music of Kenneth Cope.  Kenneth is a member of the Mormon Church and writes songs about Jesus.  I played his tapes around the house and was amazed at the message of his songs.  Finding Christ, reaching out to others, being kind and seeing heaven all around us were so inspiring.  I felt my testimony for the Savior grow.

Kenneth’s music played a significant role in how I felt about myself and where I was going with my life.  It was easier to keep difficult days in perspective and I would sing along while cleaning my room or doing homework.  Soon, my brother’s and sister’s were requesting I play his music whenever I was home.

I also played the piano and spent hours each day learning Kenneth’s songs.  I saved up babysitting money and purchased the print music to His Hands and Never a Better Hero and others.  My mom would stand by my side, encouraging me and singing along.  This is how I spent a lot of my time in the evening.

I eventually started writing my own piano music.  A neighbor of mine named Crystal wrote poetry.  We started collaborating and wrote beautiful compositions together.  When I was 16, I auditioned to be the pianist for a musical group called Sound Celebration.  The group performed not just in Mesa, but around the country.  Kenneth Cope’s music was used in most of our performances, as our goal was to draw people closer to Jesus.

When I was 23, I turned in my mission papers and was called to serve in the Temple Square Mission.  I played a lot of Kenneth Cope’s music as I prepared to serve the Lord.  His music kept me focused and the spirit stayed close to my heart. 

So . . . you can imagine my joy and utter happiness when almost a year into my mission, Kenneth Cope came to speak to the over 200 sister missionaries on Temple Square.  

He spoke for about an hour on how he developed his testimony and what he has learned about Christ from reading the scriptures.  He than asked if we would like to hear him sing a few songs.  I was the mission pianist, so my mission president asked if I would accompany Kenneth while he sang.  Of course I had been playing Kenneth’s music for years, but never did I think I would be playing while he sang.  I was nervous, but more excited.  Kenneth was kind and humble and I learned so much about Christ because of his visit to my mission.

Several years after I married the counselor, we decided to go to Utah and visit Temple Square.  At the time we had three little boys and stayed in Park City.  The day we decided to visit Temple Square, we drove through the canyons down the mountain to Salt Lake City.  My heart was full of joy, ready to share my mission for the first time with my husband and small children.  We drove past This is the Place, a landmark honoring where the first pioneers arrived with Brigham Young.  The story is when they arrived in the Utah Valley, Brigham Young said “This is the place.”  I’d always wanted to see the monument, so we took a slight detour and toured the grounds.  While walking, I heard Kenneth Cope singing.  At first I thought I was dreaming, and then maybe it was his CD being played over the loud speaker, but after a few minutes I realized it was live.  He was really him singing.  I told the counselor I had to find him.  I was like a bloodhound, walking from one end of the grounds to the next and finally found Kenneth, along with his band, rehearsing in a large barn.  I stood in the doorway and listened as he finished a song.  My eyes were full of tears and I explained to my son Chandler why I was crying. 

“That man up there taught me about Jesus,” I said.  I cautionsly approached Kenneth (I didn’t want to interrupt, but I had to!) and a bit emotional, I re-introduced myself to him.  He was so gracious and after visiting a few minutes, he invited me to stay and listen while he and his band finished rehearsing.  It was the highlight of my trip back to my mission.

You can see how this man and his gift for writing music affected me.  I can’t think of any other musician who has ever meant more.  Kenneth Cope is one of my hero’s.

Fast forward to this summer, where I have spent over four months helping my mom, author Sarah Hinze write her biography in a book we’ve titled The Memory Catcher.  More on this to come!  Her publisher Spring Creek Book Company will be publishing The Memory Catcher in October 2012. 

Throughout her life, my mom desired to know God and what He wanted her to do with her life when after a miscarriage, she had a “pre-birth experience” (PBE). The child she lost came to her as an angel, reassuring everything would be alright.  After the encounter, my mom wondered if other mothers had seen their unborn children in dreams or visions before their children were born.  She distributed flyers throughout her town and within a few days, a woman who had seen her own unborn child shared her story with my mom. 

Since then my mom has interviewed individuals from around the world and chronicled many of these types of communication from children before they are born.

Years later, she had published several books.  Her work has provided significant evidence that unborn children can warn, protect and enlighten us from the spirit realm. Most often these children appear to announce it is their time to be born. This communication can occur between the child and a parent, sibling, aunt, uncle, or grandparent, etc., as they come to warn, protect and enlighten.

Her first book Coming from the Light was published nearly 20 years ago.  Later, she published Life before Life (Pocket Books) with Simon & Schuster. 

My mom's latest book, We lived in Heaven, was given to Kenneth Cope by a mutual friend.  Well, Kenneth read the book and contacted my mom, hoping some day they could meet.  Since my mom and I were already collaborating on her biography and had planned a trip up to Utah, we meet Kenneth Cope together.  Here we our with his sweet family.

It was a dream come true. I finally had time to tell Kenneth what his music meant to me.  Kenneth is one of my hero’s and I am now sharing his music with my children.  While we were together, he played a few songs on his guitar, one of them being Broken.  

I hope you will take the time to listen to a few of his songs I have linked up.

Thank you, Kenneth for sharing your talent with the world.  It has made all the difference in mine.

What if?

I go outside in my backyard to pick an orange and like a momma duck with her little chickadee, my baby follows me. Reef loves being outside.

Our giant cottonwood trees have dropped millions of leaves onto the lawn. Each step Reef takes is a giant crunch of dead leaves, the only sign in Arizona that winter is really here. The sun is shining and birds sing like wind chimes

I peel my orange and take the first bite. A just-picked orange is better then candy. It’s the sweetest taste, and in the morning, the oranges are cold.

Image found here.

I stand near the tree and watch my little boy. He’s almost two, but for a few more months he is that precious age of one. Innocence magnified; jumbled words in the sweetest voice, still a bit of teetering when he takes his steps, “Momma,” he says when he sees me; like music.

Reef explores that backyard and our dog, Sierra follows, her behind wagging as she watches. She rubs up against him and he topples over, only to discover the leaves he’s been walking on.

I finish my orange and pick another. My fingers smell like orange perfume as I began to peel away.

Reef is in his own world as I stand near the orange tree, somewhat hidden by the branches. My baby walks to a back gate separating my yard with my neighbors. He pushes on the gate, a gate that must be as old as this 40 year-old house. And wouldn’t you know it, that gate lures itself open.

It must be like the secret garden, an unexplored place to discover. Sierra bounds into my neighbor’s yard and Reef follows, unaware that I’m watching his every move.

I finish eating my orange and waddle my six-month pregnant body over to the opened gate. My neighbors yard is huge, at least an acre, and it hits me like a crashing wall!

Her pool is not fenced!

It’s only been a few minutes, but I’m sprinting through my neighbor’s yard, holding my ball of a baby that’s growing inside me, and I don’t see Reef anywhere.

My neighbor’s pool is in another section of yard, separated by a waist-high block wall and as I get closer I see him. Relief washes over me and I stop to watch. I want to see what he’s going to do. He teeters near the patio of the pool, saying precious little baby words to Sierra. He doesn’t go near the water, doesn’t bend down to see what’s going on, he just stays with the dog in the grass.

“Reef,” I shout, my voice cracks as I start to cry.

My little Reef, named after the sea and my favorite author and my great-grandparents.

And he turns to look at me. His long fly-away hair that curls at the tips, almost white it’s so blonde. His jeans that barely stay up, held up by his diaper because his little buns are so tiny and thin.

“Momma,” he says and he runs toward me.

I pick him up in my arms and he smells like oranges. His soft cheeks caress against my lips and I hold onto him tight, knowing all too well that this moment could hold tragedy and heartbreak just as easily as it holds joy and delight.

What if?

What if?

When the counselor gets home he attaches a new latch onto the gate. He secures it about 10 different ways, testing over and over again if the gate will open with a push, a kick, a tug. It seems secure, but is it?

That night, I cry in bed and the counselor tells me everything is alright. I need his strong arms around me because I can’t get the “what if” out of my head.

The only way to find comfort is to trust in God.

Image found here. Artist, Greg Olsen.

God was with Reef the entire time, most importantly, those desperate moments when he was alone. When have I been alone, teetering, so to speak, near danger, and God spared me?

Our babies, growing up into amazing people and it’s up to us to keep them safe, to hold them when they get hurt, compliment their accomplishments, kiss them until they physically can’t take it anymore (that’s my philosophy, at least) and trust that God will take care of them when we’re not there.

The Loss Of A Dear Friend & How A Yard Sale Will Help

In 1996 my family moved from Virginia to Arizona. I was 14 years old.

I was a chubby freshman in second-hand clothes who rode my second-hand bike to school.

Photo taken from this site.

My family was poor and struggled with the demands of raising 9 children.

But, we were happy, always happy.

It took a while for me to make friends. Social groups and clicks had been established long before I arrived.

I meet Christy my sophomore year of high school. Like me, she had recently moved into the area.

I’ve always been tall and insecure. My new best friend was 4’10 and beautiful.

I rode a bike and she had a car.

We went to her home almost every day for lunch.

Christy’s mom made us salami, bread and cheese sandwiches.

I’d never had salami and remember the first time I tried the spicy delicious meat. I felt like I could eat the entire package.

I was hooked on salami and afternoons at Christy’s house.

Her parents were kind and always willing to share.

Many years later, the counselor and I purchased a home in the same area.

We attended the same church as Christy’s parents, Mike and Linda.

Linda visited me frequently in my home. When I had a new baby she shared hand-made baby blankets and a loaf of home-made bread.

The visits were sincere, her smile contagious and our conversations were full of laughter and memories.

Linda contracted breast cancer six months ago and passed away December 28, 2009.

She fought long and hard, giving it everything she had. Mike remained by her side, faithfully, for every surgery and doctor’s visit. He forwent any work that came his way and his income has been non-existent the entire six months.

I was heart broke when I heard Linda passed away. Christy lost her mom, so young. Mike lost his sweet companion, his best friend. Linda had another dear daughter named Andrea and a sweet son named Spencer. What will they do without their mom?

Death makes you ask lots of painful questions about yourself and those you love. I've struggled with the thoughts “How will I deal with losing my own mom? My own spouse?”

I am grateful for my faith in Jesus. He is who helps us through difficult times.

We donated, as did many, to the Linda Call Funeral Contribution, but Mike and his family are still struggling to pay for funeral costs.

So, in honor of what I do best, and in honor of Linda, I’m holding a

neighborhood yard sale.

I am collecting anything that you’ve set aside to be sent to the thrift store.

Clothes, books, furniture, toys, etc.

If you don’t have anything to donate, but still want to help, I am also holding a bake sale.

You can drop off cookies, brownies, cupcakes, etc.

Please bring items by no later then Friday night (but I’ll still take stuff Saturday morning).

Below is the information for the sale. Please email me and I will send you over the address to my home.

When: Saturday, January 9, 2010

Time: 7:30am – 1:00pm

lauralofgreen@aol.com

Thank you in advance for anything you want to do to help.