Alisa Childers' Blog

Girard Project out April 20th!

2011-02-16T16:34:00.000-08:00

It's been quite an adventure since my I, my sister and my two nieces sang together at Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa over a year ago. I was scheduled to sing at their Sunday night service, and decided to surprise my dad by bringing them out to sing one of his most loved songs, "Sometimes Alleluia". It was a special moment that none of us will forget as voices and harmonies blended together in a way that only happens when it's family. What started as a simple tribute performance has morphed into a full length worship album filled with original songs and old hymns. We even recorded our version of "Sometimes Alleluia" as that is the song that started it all. It's been a tremendous endeavor as anyone who has ever worked with family knows. At times, the sweetness of the Holy Spirit was so present in the studio that it brought tears to my eyes and goosebumps to my skin. At other times, we wondered if we would ever complete the project! (Imagine 5 creative females in the studio together hunched over a box of krispy kremes with no sleep and PMS.......)

Our group is called "Girard". We chose this name because it is our legacy. Our dad walked to the altar and gave his heart to Jesus at Calvary Chapel over 40 years ago. My mom and dad met and got married there, and my sister and I were dedicated by Pastor Chuck Smith at that same altar. Now Calvary Chapel is partnering with us to continue the legacy that our dad started so many years ago. I, along with my sister Kristin, my sister Nikki and my nieces Lauren and Kailyn make up the group Girard. I can't wait until the album is released on April 20th.

Girard will debut Good Friday at Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa, and will sing at their Easter Sunday morning service, held at the Verizon Amphitheater in Irvine, CA.

The Story Behind The Song: Plastic Guns

2009-11-24T05:19:00.000-08:00

Download the song Plastic Guns, along with three other songs for free here

The story begins with a little boy sitting on the lawn wearing a cowboy costume. With an alcoholic father who died before he was five years old, that western ensemble was the only semblance he had of a real childhood. He spent his evenings immersed in the world of Roy Rogers and Howdy Doody. That little boy is my dad.

He set out on his own at sixteen years old to pursue a music career that landed him in the company of the Beach Boys, and garnered him a number one single called "Little Honda" with the surf group, The Hondells. His quick success in rock and roll ushered him into a life of sex, drugs and alcohol. Truth and love were not offered to him throughout his boyhood, so his life became about searching for those things wherever he could find them. In his early twenties, his spiritual quest became steadfast as hippies emerged and their common openness and desires united them. Eastern religion, traditional church and hallucinatory narcotics left him empty-handed of heart, and the search continued. With an open mind, he and some of his hippie friends decided to visit a little church in Southern California just to see if God could be found there. From the moment they walked in the door, they understood that He could.

My mom was raised in the Mojave desert, and spent most of her time outdoors. With a vast desert landscape for a backyard, she hung out with the Rackley boys, a rough and tumble group of brothers who loved to throw rocks. She never backed down from a dare, and her spunk and moxy has followed her through every stage of life. She went to college in Southern California, and went with some friends to a beach baptism offered by Calvary Chapel. A group called "Love Song" was playing, and my mom was introduced to the lead singer, who happened to be my dad.

I like to think of it as love at first sight, and I see my parents locking eyes from afar, and being magnetically drawn to each other like that scene from Twilight when Edward first walks into the school cafeteria in slow motion. In reality, the first time they met was not at the beach, but at an evening church service about a week before. One of my mom's friends was interested in my dad, and wanted to meet him. My mom and another friend went with her for moral support, and my dad ended up being interested in the the other friend. My mom was very brave to show her face that night, because she was not only horrifically sunburned, but had an allergic reaction to the herring that she ate earlier in the day. She showed up to church with a beet red face and lips swollen to three times their normal size. I can't really blame my dad for not noticing her. Well, I'm sure he noticed her, but not for the reasons that would play out in a good romantic movie. Nothing came of anything that night, and then they met a week later at the beach. After they were re-introduced, and my mom's swelling had gone down, they were inseparable from that moment on.

In the song, they meet at the beach, because "herring", "sunburn" and "swollen face" don't really roll off the tongue in a musically desirable way. I don't feel like this is very important, because this is a love song. It's the story of their lifelong love and commitment to each other. There were times in their marriage that I honestly thought they'd be better off without each other. There were other times I thought they would die without each other. At certain times, as with any marriage that lasts longer than a few years, no one would have faulted them for giving up. But they didn't give up. They have remained undyingly dedicated to each other through great hardship, good times and bad. They make me believe in love.

It's fun watching them now in their sixties. I love the way my mom still smiles at him with a wordless squeal when he makes her dinner. I love the way she playfully rolls her eyes at the sheer joy he experiences when he finds the perfect pair of black sweatpants, knowing full well that she would have suffocated with a suit and tie man. The fireside dance that I mention in the bridge of the song didn't actually happen the day they met. I put that line in there because I think that dance is how I see them now. Theirs is a story wrought with passion, difficulty and trial, and it's a story that has left a rich legacy for their children and grandchildren. It's a story that begs to be told. And so it has.

What Do Sheep Count When They Can't Sleep?

2009-11-06T06:22:00.000-08:00

It's a common practice to count sheep when trying to fall asleep. I have never found this to be particularly useful. When I count sheep, it usually goes something like this: " One. Two. Three. Four. How many sheep will I have to count before I get tired? Five. Six. I am going to be so tired tomorrow. Six. Wait, did I already count six? Seven. Eight. Close your eyes. Rrrrrrg....I am closing them too tight. I'm gonna get wrinkles. I like wrinkles. Nine. I don't really want wrinkles, but I do think they are kind of cool. Scars. Scars are cool. Ten. I think that sheep is laughing at me. Tomorrow is gonna be the worst day ever if I don't get some sleep. Eleven. Did I forget to take my vitamins today? I need to read my Bible more. Did I turn off the stove? I wonder if it hurts to get a tattoo. What number was I on? Uggg.....One".

Although stereotyped as stupid animals, sheep are actually quite interesting. They are not very good fighters but they have great instincts, and sharp senses. They have been proven to be quite clever when faced with hunger. In Great Britain villagers watched as a herd of sheep taught themselves to roll across 8 feet of hoof-proof metal cattle grids in order to raid the local gardens. I would have given anything to see that. When a predator invades their dwelling, sheep will run away as fast as they can. Then they will regroup and turn to face the brute like a big, united cotton ball of vengeance. I think that qualifies them as brave. It takes courage to face a hungry, fang-toothed beast with nothing but excellent hearing and an amazing tolerance for pain. It's true that a sheep will follow another sheep off a cliff but nobody's perfect.

People are compared to sheep in the Bible.

In Psalm 23, God is referred to as our shepherd. Jesus refers to himself as such in John 10:11 which says, "I am the good shepherd. I know my own sheep, and they know me." He talks about how he sacrifices His life for His sheep because they are His, and He has a vested interest. He compares that mentality with one of a hired hand. If a wolf attacked, the hired hand would run away. The paid worker is just doing it for the money, so he has no vested interest. Jesus, on the other hand said that he would give His very life for the sheep in His care. Later in His life, He did just that.

Sometimes when I can't sleep, I think about my Shepherd.

I ponder what it is that a shepherd does, and in turn, what Jesus does for me. He walks with me everywhere I go. He makes sure I have food and water. He stays awake when I sleep to guarantee that I will be safe. He fights off anything that tries to hurt me. When I get lost, He comes and finds me and brings me home. This does not make me weak and helpless. I look at it like this: I am identified with Jesus, and predators don't mess with Him, so therefore, they don't mess with me. Of course I realize that life is abundantly more complicated than I am describing it, but this simplicity brings me a great amount of peace when I am trying to fall asleep at night.

Du Hebing, a poor sheep farmer had a sheepdog who died unexpectedly. He couldn't afford another one and was faced with the problem of herding his sheep without any help. He discovered that if he held up a large poster of a snarling wolf, the sheep would keep walking because they didn't want to go near it. Problem solved. I admit that sheep are not the smartest animals in the barn, but neither are people sometimes.

I am so glad I have a Shepherd. I am not on my own. I always have somewhere to call home, and someone waiting for me there. At the end of it all, when time surrenders to eternity, we have a great promise from the book of Revelation: "The lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd. He will lead them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes." That will be a good day to be a sheep.

In Heaven It Will Always Be October

2009-10-25T09:18:00.001-07:00

There is a large tree outside of my kitchen window that I love to watch (and talk to, but don't tell anyone) when I drink coffee in the morning. Technically, it's my neighbor's tree, but I know it likes me better so I claim it as mine. I watch my tree throughout the seasons as it's leaves get thick and green in the spring, hang on for dear life in the summer and burn with color in the fall . I always think it looks darkly defiant in winter when it stands naked against ice, wind and freezing rain. It doesn't make much sense to me why trees lose their leaves in the coldest months, when logic would suggest that they could use a good winter coat. I wonder if they get hot in the summer when they are covered in bulky leaves and the sticky heat lays heavy on them. Does my tree get annoyed by birds and the wrought-iron bird feeder my neighbor hung on it's branches? Does it itch when bugs crawl up it's trunk and get bored just standing there all the time? Would it like some hot cocoa? It's good to know there will be trees in heaven.

When I was a little girl I didn't really want to go to heaven.

I imagined I would be really bored when the only thing there are these golden streets and trees of life and stuff. I mean the sea is made of glass, so what fun is that? I can't even go in the water! Of course, I didn't want to go to hell either, so I figured boredom was better than worms eating my flesh and fire burning me forever. (I had a second grade teacher who taught about hell in great detail, and I would wake up with nightmares that I was being sauteed in a frying pan.) Yep, definitely going with boredom.

My discontent with the idea of heaven turned into absolute terror at the concept of living forever.

Our minds can only comprehend time with a beginning and an end, so I couldn't wrap my 12 year old sensibility around such an abstract notion. Eternity was like a sinister monster in the closet that lingered with spine-chilling tenacity. Unlike imaginary monsters, this monster was eventually coming for me whether I liked it or not. I began to have panic attacks and remember pacing around my room in a cold sweat just begging Jesus to help me not think about it. He always did, but the looming fear of the next panic session haunted much of my young life. I never confessed my anxiety to anyone because the fear of even mentioning it would surely trigger another episode. Whenever a Pastor would teach about heaven, hell, the afterlife, the rapture or any other related subjects, I taught myself to escape in my mind to somewhere else.....somewhere finite. I'd sneak away to a nice place where things were sensible enough to have a beginning and an end.

I remember being in youth group and the speaker was telling us how heaven would be one, long worship service. I'm sure that in his mind he meant this to be a comfort, but it seriously made me reconsider worms, fire and eternal darkness. Somewhere hidden in my awareness I began to see heaven as a total drag.

As an adult, the weariness, heaviness, pain and loss of life became something tangible to me.

The realities of how incomplete life on earth is made me reconsider my opinions on the afterlife. Life on earth is all about need. We all have so much need. This is why we sleep, eat, drink, get married, have babies and work. When we really ponder the perfection of heaven, it is a great joy to grasp the fact that in heaven there will be no need. Every eye will see and every ear will hear with flawless clarity. There will be no arthritis, cancer, birth defects or loss of any kind. We will have endless energy and strength, and will be reunited with loved ones who have gone before.

When I was an apprehensive youngster distressed by incomprehensible concepts, God gave me a dream.

I truly believe the dream was from God because of the peace that accompanied it. My image of heaven was about to change. What I once saw as a murky grayed-out watercolor, was one night away from becoming a vivid portrait, rich with radiant color and light. The warmth and vibrancy of the dream was unlike anything I had ever envisioned. I was in an ice cream parlor and Jesus was the waiter. He was wearing a white and red striped shirt, black pants held up with suspenders and a black bow-tie. His face literally shined with delight, and His cheeks were flushed with a ruddy glow. The depth and warmth of the yellow-hued light matched the earnest joy that saturated the entire atmosphere. The restaurant was overflowing with people and yet Jesus could give each one the same constant attention. When I was sitting at a golden table submerged in the ambience, I just understood. I asked Jesus, "Is this heaven?". I don't remember exactly what He said but it was something along the lines of, "Yes! And it's not anything like you pictured is it? I'm so glad you are finally here". He was right. Heaven was not about being alone. Heaven was not about forcing myself to lay eternally prostrate while feeling nothing more than lucky to be there. Heaven was about hanging out with Jesus and being surrounded with ice cream, games, tons of people, and more love than I ever knew could exist. I didn't even want the ice cream. I just wanted to sit with Jesus.

So what does a tree have to do with heaven?

As I have grown older, visions of ice-cream parlors, Saturday morning cartoons, roller skates and carousels have faded into more grown up tastes. The emotions that were summoned by these simplicities are now the same feelings that whisper to me when I look at my tree. I am overwhelmed by the beauty of nature in October when the dirt is always just a little muddy and the world becomes shadowy and rustic. The air is colder, the sun is kinder, and coffee just tastes so much better. I no longer wish for heaven to be an ice cream parlor. The Bible describes heaven as a great city with a river flowing from the throne of God and down the main street. On either side of the street are fruit trees. Don't get me wrong, I'm totally into the city thing as well. I can't wait to see what that will be like. I imagine it like my time living in New York minus the rats and roaches.

It's midnight and I just walked outside and saw a shooting star. Score another point for October.

Big Announcement!

2009-10-15T06:49:00.000-07:00

I've been very busy putting the finishing touches on my second solo release, Plastic Guns. We are very close to the finish line on this one! Originally I had scheduled a December release date, and it's looking like we are going to have to push that back to January. There is good news, however! The 4 songs I'm giving as a free download are going to mix next week. That means that they will be up by the end of the month!

Now for the big announcement! The reason it's taken so long is actually good news in and of itself. I have been working on a project with my sisters and my two nieces, and it has commanded almost all of my musical attention.

Back in June, my sister Kristin, and her two daughters Lauren and Kailyn surprised my dad by singing one of his old songs together at Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa. It was something we kind of decided at the last minute and threw together, but everyone agreed there was something very special about it. Every one of us has been to hell and back, and now we want to just worship God. There is nothing for us to sing about outside of HIS grace, HIS power and HIS perfect love. You can watch the video here. The Pastor, Chuck Smith was very moved by the performance, and said to my dad, "We've got to get them in the studio". That has grown into more serious talks of recording an album, and very recently, those talks have become reality! Calvary Chapel is partnering with us on this, and I am so excited about it.

I had plans for my next album (after Plastic Guns) to be a live worship album, and have been writing many songs with that project in mind. As usual, God had other plans and I have come to realize that those songs were perfect for this new venture. Then I asked my sister Kristin, a worship leader, if she had written any songs, and it turns out she had a few songs to play for me. We got together, and HELLO! ( I usually have more articulate words to describe an encounter, but HELLO! is pretty much the only way to describe how blown away I was by her songs.) Then we wrote a few songs together, and it became very obvious that this is something that is God breathed. In a way, I feel like THIS is what God has been preparing me for my whole life, and I don't say that lightly.

We have been keeping things hush hush, because we weren't sure how it was going to work or if it was even going to happen at all, but as I post this, I'm on my way to the studio where the recording is well under way. I will be tweeting our progress, so stay tuned! We still don't have a name for the group. Any suggestions?

Don't Throw The Pulpit Out With The Baptismal Water

2009-10-05T20:38:00.001-07:00

That day was a day that I will never forget. That day was my day. I was fourteen, and that day, I won. I didn't win a game, but I won the most coveted and exclusive honor that could be earned at Jr. High church summer camp. I was crowned, "Best Christian". (It was probably worded something like "Best Christian Example", but everyone knew what it meant.) Along with the honor came special privileges. I was allowed to cut to the front of the lunch line, and was given a prize. (For some reason, I'm remembering a box of cereal, but that can't be right, can it?) Immediately, I developed a crush on my male counterpart who won the award for the boys. After all, we were the only two who understood how lonely is was at the top. As an adult, I wonder what on earth the camp leaders were thinking! This honor not only came with privileges and cereal, but it came with an internal struggle with pride like I had never dealt with before. My hands once raised in sincerity, were now raised because I was "The Best Christian", and I had better set a good example. I had been branded. Now I better not walk down to the altar because they might wonder what secret sin I was hiding, and I would be stripped of my status like that Miss America who posed for playboy. This was not said to me out loud, but it was just something I felt. That same summer, a male camp counselor told me I had a sexy voice, so I realize that the leaders were not perfect either. I should have turned to him and said, "That's 'Best Christian' sexy voice to you, mister!"

Many people in my generation grew up in a church that emphasized works over faith, and self-focus over Jesus-focus.

I think many of us felt that our Christianity was measured by how high we raised our hands, and how good we were at not sinning. This created a generation of guilt-ridden private sinners who felt separated from Jesus every time we made a mistake. I never drank, I never did drugs, and I never even kissed a boy until I was 22. For "Best Christians" like me, our struggles went deeply inward, and became profoundly secret. Throughout my years, there were many thoughtful and caring youth pastors and friends who encouraged me, believed in me, and influenced my life in a serious way. I want to make it clear that this is not to be mistakenly read as a list of everything the church has done wrong. I believe in the church. The church is called the Bride of Christ, and I am cheering her on. This is simply my assessment of how we got where we are today.

Some people in my generation think it's cute to sarcastically make fun of how irrelevant the church can be.

It is the worst form of piousness to mock the shortcomings of the church with a sharp wit, in some kind of attempt to demonstrate relevance. That kind of relevance is shallow and false, and the blanket of hypocrisy that it's wrapped in is the most irrelevant thing I can think of. It's easy to pick the church apart thread by thread, while the garment of one's own heart lays threadbare and moth eaten. This is self-righteousness at it's finest.

Many people in my generation have walked away from the church.

Somehow I can't say that I blame them, but I have not chosen to do this. Although there are deep flaws, the search for truth and reconciliation is an endless road pervaded with loneliness and deficiency. Jesus came for the lonely. Jesus came for the deficient. Jesus came for the broken, the weird, and the lost. He was inexhaustible in the patience He displayed toward His disciples, and He's been infinite in His patience toward me. If we all walk away, we cripple the Bride that He loves so much, and leave her weak and ineffective.

So I had it wrong.

On one of the last days of camp, I learned that "Best Christian" boy had brought a water balloon launcher in his suitcase. I was invited to hide out with him and one of his friends in the woods that bordered the staff cabin. Once out of sight, we began dousing every adult who walked by until the only smart one pinpointed our location. We were caught. "Best Christian" boy told me to run. "I'll take the rap. Just get out of here!", he whispered, and I ran like the wind. After a stern talking to, he was not stripped of his title. He still got to cut the lunch line, and even kept his cereal.

It took me years to shake off the "Best Christian" title, a label that haunted my teen years and early twenties. I won the accolade a total of three times, and as a senior in high school, I had to pass the crown to Erika Koss. I think if there is going to be a "Best Christian" award, the winner should have to clean the toilets and go last in the lunch line. They should have to polish everyone's shoes, and should not, under any circumstances, get any cereal. But then no one would want the award. Problem solved.

When Jesus was hanging out with prostitutes, befriending crooked businessmen and kicking over the temple tables, I wonder if He would have won "Best Christian Attitude". Probably not. In youth group, he would most likely be sitting in the back row getting to know the kids who's parents made them come. I am sure of this: He would most definitely go last in the lunch line, and would not make fun of well-meaning church goers who had the misfortune of having their house of worship advertised with an nerdy sign. Titus 3:2 says, "Remind them (believers) ......to speak evil of no one, to avoid quarreling, and to show perfect courtesy toward all people". Jesus loves the nerdy sign people too.

I found this at my mom's house the other day:

"Apples Make Me Poop", And Other Life Lessons From 3 Year Olds

2009-09-27T12:30:00.000-07:00

Matthew, my 10 year old nephew grabbed a peach from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table before going outside to play with his friends. While heading out the door, he got distracted and ran straight into the half open door, and received a powerful smack in the head. Everyone responds to pain differently. Some people cry, some get mad, and some just stand there stunned. Matthew is a sweet boy, who is a born comedian, and normally very even tempered. He usually shakes off injury with a "tough guy" shrug, and it is rare to see him indulge in a visible reaction. He must have been having a bad day or had something else on his mind, because this time he reacted by channeling all his emotion into the peach itself. He felt the kind of irritation that starts in your toes, and shoots up your body like an electrical current. This all happened in a fraction of a second and before he could process the incident, he squished the peach he was holding, and reduced it to juice, pulp and runny slush. He then looked at it and screamed, "STUPID PEACH!", and threw the peach as hard as he could into the front lawn. Now whenever I feel frustrated I shout "STUPID PEACH!", and it makes my family laugh. It makes other people wonder if I'm sane. I have squished a few proverbial peaches in my day, and it's usually not the "peach's" fault.

I love kids. Kids are straight forward, and are not easily embarrassed by things that would mortify an adult. They have unhindered imaginations, and are pretty darn smart too. I have learned many things about human nature from children, and here are some of them:

1. Kids lie.

My dad is the most practical person I have ever known. He does not care how he looks if what he is wearing will increase productivity and comfort. Much to the chagrin of my mother, it is not unusual to see him walking around the house in a t-shirt, boxer shorts, and headphones. The newest addition to his wardrobe is a jewelers helmet that has a magnifying visor in the front, and a headlight on the top. He is often seen in this get up while carrying a grabber arm and wearing a snuggie. The grandkids were in Nashville for a visit, and one in particular was seen playing with the grabber arm. After the kids went home my dad called and said, "Hey, I can't find the grabber thingy. Did you guys see it?", "Nope", was the universal response. A couple of weeks later, my dad found his beloved grabber arm shoved under the bed, broken in two places. Looks like someone was either hiding evidence or a magical creature needed to grab something, broke it, and hid it under the bed to cover it's tracks.

2. Kids are brutally honest when you'd rather they weren't.

When my friend served his son his lunch, his son said, "I wish I didn't have a tongue so I wouldn't have taste buds. I wish I didn't have taste buds so I wouldn't have to taste this."

When I was a little girl, I was waiting in the doctor's office with my mom. I pointed to the woman across from us and yelled, "Mommy, that lady has a mustache!". It was a very small waiting room and I'm sure it felt like the longest wait ever.

A little boy once asked me what anorexia is. I told him, "Well, sometimes when an adult feels like they are too fat, they won't eat enough but it's not healthy." He replied, "Oh ya, my mom does that!"

A friend of mine was in the process of potty training her daughter. When her daughter would "make a poopy in the potty" she would get a piece of candy. The daughter was telling someone about her reward and mused, "Daddy must get LOTS of candy!"

3. Kids ask questions that we have no idea how to answer.

Another friend of mine has a very thoughtful son. One night at bedtime, he asked, "Daddy, praying is like talking to a wall. How can Jesus hear me when he doesn't even live on this planet?".

4. Kids show off.

Four brothers were staying with their grandparents for a short time. While sitting at the dinner table, each of the boys said, "Grandpa, wanna feel my muscles?". Grandpa would then compliment each boy in turn and tell them how big and strong they were. When it was the youngest boy's turn, he said, "Grandpa, wanna see my penis?"

5. Kids are pretty smart.

Joel, a three year old was sitting with his sister eating an apple. He turned to her with a deep, contemplative stare. He said "Apples make me poop" with absolute conviction.

Jesus once said, "Unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven." Maybe he meant we have to forget all we've learned and start over. Maybe he wants us to be more honest. Maybe he was hoping we would utilize our creativity and imagination instead of trying so hard to be like each other. Maybe he just wants us to be totally dependent on Him.

I wonder how much like children Adam and Eve must have been. They spent their lives discovering creation, playing, laughing and waiting to walk with God, until the bitter day when their human nature got the best of them. "Apples make me poop". Maybe if Eve would have applied this child like logic, none of us would be in this mess to begin with! Stupid Apple.

Dear Penn Jillette: An Open Letter To My Favorite Atheist

2009-09-16T19:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Penn,

You are a true thinker, and I like that in a person. I have seen your TV show, "Bull...t", (Forgive me, but I have to keep it PG for the kiddos.) and I recently saw your video blog "Penn Says", about your position that Christians should proselytize. I am a Christian, and I am greatly challenged by your words. As a singer/songwriter, themes of spirituality and my faith in Jesus are interwoven throughout my music, and I am not secretive about my beliefs. I am inspired by your words to seek out more opportunities to proselytize, or "witness" as many Christians call it. I have always liked to apply the word "witness" to this practice because I compare it to being witness in a courtroom. The purpose of the judge, jury and legal process is to prove the truth and then execute the just consequence for that truth. If I have seen or experienced something firsthand, wouldn't I be obligated to give an honest account of that occurrence for the sake of justice? If the story was being told incorrectly, wouldn't it be my duty to set it straight? I like your analogy, that if someone is about to be run over by a truck, any sane person would tackle them before the truck could hit them. So what do you do if the person doesn't believe in the truck?

I admit I'm a bit timid about witnessing, but not because I feel I am wrong. I know there is a God, and I know the way to find Him. I am sometimes shy to share this information because of how poorly some of my fellow Christians have gone about it. Unfortunately, much of the world views Christians as being arrogant, loudmouthed weirdos. I will be the first to admit that we definitely have some of those among us. But for the most part, we are simple people working out our salvation with humility for the knowledge of how very, very far from perfect we are. (No, I do not have a "Christians aren't perfect, just forgiven.." bumper sticker on my car. I am, however, strangely fascinated by the one that says, "Honk if you love Jesus." I've never honked because I'm afraid the person will forget why I'm honking, and flip me the bird. That would just be awkward for both of us.) Mohandas Gandhi said, "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." I respect Gandhi so much for sinking his heart, soul and body into what he believed in. Special props for fasting around all that Indian food! The dog that barks the loudest will always get the most attention. Jesus wasn't very much of a barker. He barked a couple of times, but usually at the self-righteous religious leaders who were filled with pride. The world hears the loudmouthed wierdos, but to practice true Christianity is to love people, love Jesus, and take care of the poor and less fortunate. I know many, many people who are living this out.

So I am re-inspired. You remind me of Jesus' disciple Peter. Peter was rough, bawdy and passionate. I believe with all my heart that if Jesus came in modern times instead of when He did, He would choose you. He would come right up to you and say, "Come with me, Penn. You have used television to reveal all the bull...t in the world, and now I'm going to show you how to expose bull...t for good." Jesus said, "And so I tell you, keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for". I know you are not an agnostic, so you are not necessarily seeking and asking, but what if you asked? What if there really is an answer? What if it's Jesus? I say all these things because I care about you. Jesus loves you, Penn, and let's face it, heaven would be so much more interesting with you in it. And don't worry, becoming a Christian will not magically turn you into a Republican.

Update 9/23/09
*Since the original posting of this blog I have been contacted by several atheists who have shown me that I do not have the actual definition of atheism or agnosticism correct. I have since learned that they are not mutually exclusive, and someone can indeed be both an atheist and an agnostic. Rather than change my original post, I'll just say that although Penn is a self-proclaimed atheist, it does not mean that he also can't be agnostic. He is too smart a guy to not be asking questions. I didn't mean to oversimplify. Thanks to my new friends!

Album Update

2009-09-07T11:10:00.000-07:00

I am so excited to announce that my new album, entitled "Plastic Guns" will be coming out in December! It has been an extremely long process, but well worth the wait, in my opinion. I remember laying the groundwork for the songs back in 2007, and now they are almost finished. Why did it take so long? There are a couple of factors involved. My first album had just come out, so I wasn't really in a hurry. I was busy traveling, writing and taking my time in the studio. Then I got pregnant. I thought, "This won't hinder anything. I'll just keep plowing on and won't miss a beat!!" I thought I would take a month off, and get right back to it. Veteran parents are laughing out loud right now, and of course having a baby completely derailed everything in my life, and I couldn't be happier about it.

I wasn't one of those skinny pregnant ladies. I have friends who literally looked normal from the front and back, and from the side just looked like they stuck a watermelon under their shirt. I, on the other hand was pregnant all over, from head to toe. I realized when I flew out to do a concert at eight months along, that I had to slow down and dive into this phase of my life. I had a difficult labor and delivery, and took several months to recover and focus on being a new mother. Starting in the beginning of summer, I went in and gave this collection of songs my full attention. Thanks to Grandma, I was able to concentrate on the music, knowing that my daughter was in good hands. (And getting spoiled rotten.)

I will be announcing an actual release date soon, and will be offering a pre-release through my website, wwwalisachilders.com. I'm also choosing my four favorite songs, and will be offering a FREE DOWNLOAD of those songs. Be watching for the free download, my website re-design and the pre-release to be announced on my twitter page, www.twitter.com/alisachilders. I'll be posting photos, artwork and album updates as they unfold. Great stuff coming soon!

My Journey Into Worship, Part 2

2009-08-28T07:09:00.000-07:00

The word worship, when translated from the Greek, means "To kiss towards". I had an experience that helped me understand this concept better than anything else. My daughter, Dyllan had a tremendously difficult time with teething. As I suspect most babies do, she got fevers, a runny nose, and was very cranky most of the time for about 4 months. During that phase, she never slept more than about 3 hours at a time, and mostly it was less than that. When her sixth tooth finally broke through the gum line, we both had our first full REM cycle of sleep. She slept until 5am, and when she finally did wake up, I went in to feed her. I sat in the rocker and nursed her with a feeling of joy for having slept so much that night, but also relief because I knew she felt better. It's agonizing as a parent to know that your child is in pain, but there's only so much you can do about it. During that tough time, I tried to give her extra affection and LOTS of kisses.

That night, when I sat in the rocker she kept looking up at me, and it seemed like she was trying to crawl up my chest. I could tell she was tired, and wanted to go back to sleep, but there was something she was trying to do first. I sensed what she wanted, so I picked her up and put her face in front of mine. She leaned in, and gave me a sweet and beautiful kiss. It was heart-melting, but more importantly, it was completely unsolicited. When she finished, she gave me one more, and then went back to nursing and swiftly fell back to sleep.

I will never forget how it felt to be kissed by my daughter who I love and have sacrificed so much for. Sometimes I ask for a kiss, and she usually complies. Those kisses are wonderful, but the ones that are unexpected are even better, because they are of her own volition.

I don't know why she kissed me. Maybe she was imitating what I had been doing. Maybe she was feeling insecure, and wanted to connect with me. Maybe she learned what it felt like to be kissed, and wanted me to feel that. 1 John 4:19 says that "We love because He first loved us". In our difficult times, when God is so close, holding us, bearing with us, and loving us without expectation, we learn to love Him back. We kiss Him because he first showed us how.

Does God Really Even Check His Facebook Page?

2009-08-20T20:16:00.000-07:00

The year was 1993. It was summertime, and I feverishly sat down at our home computer to "go on the internet" for the first time. This is a moment that I will never forget. It's one of those "where were you when Kennedy was shot?" occasions. I remember vividly the sights, smells and sounds of that moment. We had just gotten AOL, and my dad had finished setting it up. I was tingling with excitement as the anticipation built up until I could not wait any longer. "Come on!... I want to see the internet!". I yelled at my sister. I think I was expecting the computer screen to start swirling before my eyes as I was teleported to another dimension that I mistakenly thought was going to be in 3-D. The AOL home page popped up, and I said, "When will we be on the internet?". My patience had lost it's last leg, and I was tired of waiting for this momentous event. "You are on the internet", my dad said. "NO! This can't be the internet! It's just a screen with some writing on it!". My hopes were dashed because there was no way that this is what everyone had been talking about. "This is dumb." And that was that.

It wasn't until years later that I learned to appreciate what the internet could do. Now, I post a status update on facebook, patiently wait a minute, refresh the page, and hope for the little red box at the bottom right hand corner that will tell me someone read it. This is a beautiful, shiny red box that shows me where to find the comments. Comments! We all love them. (Come on, admit it.) I wonder if that's how God feels when someone finally gives Him the time of day by talking to Him. Probably not, because God is not the narcissistic being that we are. His joy in our communication with Him is based on love and relationship, and not so much on being validated. It's fun to think about, though. I like the idea of there being a little red box that pops up in heaven saying, "God, Alisa Childers just sent you a cow on farmville!" Then God is like, "Uggg... I was hoping for a comment."

I realize now that my daughter will grow up in a world that didn't exist before cell phones, internet, facebook, myspace and the twitterverse. She will never know the simplicity of having to stand up and walk over to the TV to turn it on. She will never have to pull her car over into the grocery store parking lot to find a pay phone. She won't have to take her film to the one-hour photo on the corner and wait until she can see her pictures. She will not have to look words up in the dictionary or wait by the mailbox for a magazine. She may not even get to experience passing notes in class, because, most likely, she will just text her friends under her desk. I hope to avoid that last one with good parenting, but I haven't walked in those shoes yet! There is almost nothing that she will have to wait for. She will never know the beauty of a good crank call, because of the invention of caller ID. By the time she is in high school, everything from music and TV, communication and the internet, will most likely all take place within her phone. She will have access to almost any information she may desire by simply accessing a device she keeps in her purse.

I love Twitter. I love facebook and myspace and blogspot and various other websites that command so much of my attention. Facebook has allowed me to stay connected with my sisters in a way that would not be possible otherwise. Twitter helps me get the word out about my music and ministry, and I love seeing what my friends are up to. These are great inventions. I love being able to order pizza, play games, and talk to my family all from my husband's iphone.

We are living in unprecendented times. There has never before been something that connects people so intimately, and yet so disconnects them at the same time. All we see are words. We don't see the tears, struggle or complexity behind them. Words are very important to me. In all situations, I choose my words carefully, and analyze the words of others with equal vigilance. A facebook status might say, "Just had my coffee...On my way to the gym!". It should really say, "Just had my coffee, got in a horrible fight with my wife, on my way to the gym, don't really want to be at home right now." I'm certainly not suggesting that we all air the intimate details of our domestic problems on facebook, but I think it's important for us all to realize that nothing is just as it seems. It could look like someone has the most active, fun, and fulfilling life, when in reality, they are incredibly lonely and just want to feel approved of. I place a great amount of importance on face to face interaction. It's vital for us to be aware of each other, and love and pray for one another. Only in person can you decipher the difference between, "I'm smiling!", and "My lips are smiling, but my eyes are not."

I wanted to ask God a question on facebook, just to see if He would answer. I want to know what He thinks of the internet. It turns out that He doesn't have a personal page, so you just have to join His fan page. He has over 2 million fans. I guess I'll have to hit Him up on myspace.

Don't Throw A Pearl At a Pig. You Could Put An Eye Out.

2009-08-12T13:46:00.000-07:00

Jesus said, "Do not give what is holy to the dogs; nor cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you in pieces."

I don't really know why Jesus would think someone would throw a pearl at a pig. Common sense would tell you that it would probably make the pig mad, and it would chase you. I've done some research about pigs, and it turns out that thinner pigs are more nervous than fatter ones. The leaner pigs actually have a stress gene that makes them fearful, agitated and more likely to fight. Maybe they are just hungry. In this scenario, they just want some food, and you are trying to get them to appreciate and respond to a pearl. When they realize it is not food, they get seriously ticked off, and make food out of you. I don't know if this is what Jesus was thinking when he said it, but it is an amusing thing to think about.

When I was in grade school, I learned how a pearl is made. They told us that a pearl is formed when a tiny speck of dirt enters into the oysters shell. The oyster then covers the speck of dirt with a smooth substance that eventually forms a pearl. They were wrong. A pearl does not actually begin with speck of dirt. It begins with a parasite that burrows it's way into the mollusk's shell and into the mantle tissue. The natural defensive reaction of the oyster is to cover the intruder with a membrane known as a pearl sac. It keeps layering the pearl sac until the parasite can no longer irritate the oyster's tissue. I guess if you think of it that way, a pearl is a tomb; a tiny, beautiful tomb.

A parasite is a living organism which is dependent on it's host for life functions. A parasite rarely kills it's host, but rather depletes the host of it's nutrients, and weakens it as a whole. The oyster's natural immune system has to work very hard to isolate and "trap" the parasite inside the pearl sac. The outcome is something we value greatly, and consider to be expensive and beautiful. I'm no scientist, but there would seem to be some logic that could be applied here. I would assume that the bigger and stronger the parasite, the bigger the pearl would be, and the longer it would take to make. The oyster would have to work that much harder to cover the trespasser with more of the membrane, resulting in a bigger pearl. It wouldn't happen instantly. It would take a very long time, and it would be difficult. In this scenario, the oyster doesn't know that it is creating something that will be of great value to someone. It is simply trying to survive.

In a metaphorical sense, every trial that I have survived has become a pearl. Every dream that I have labored to keep alive has become a pearl. A pearl is a complex and complicated thing. Not everyone can understand or appreciate the beauty of it. Some people may want to exploit it and wear it around their neck like a prize. Others will see it's value, and try to profit from it. Others won't get it at all, and will throw it in the mud. I am working on a few pearls in my life. I have to remind myself that some of them are just not ready yet. Some are ready, but they just haven't yet found the right situation to be appreciated. Those are the ones I have to hold close and protect with fierce tenacity.

I believe in destiny. I also believe that destiny can change with every choice we make, but it never dies. The most beautiful, valuable and important things are born out of great hardship and suffering. They take a long time to form, and are not always comprehended. I love what Bob Dylan once said about destiny: "It’s a feeling you have that you know something about yourself that nobody else does. The picture you have in your mind of what you are about will come true. It’s kind of a thing you kind of have to keep to your own self ‘cause it’s a fragile feeling and you put it out there and somebody will kill it and so it's best to keep that all inside." Pigs don't care about pearls, and that's okay because pearls don't exist for pigs. A pearl isn't any less valuable just because a pig tramples on it.

My Journey Into Worship

2009-07-30T13:28:00.000-07:00

Before I was in Zoegirl, I helped lead worship at a church in New York, and then I joined the worship team at the DreamCenter after I moved home to LA. Although I always wrote singer/songwriter introspective type songs, my heart has always been in worship. Being a part of the music business exposed me to another side of the worship music industry, and for a while I wanted nothing to do with it. I wasn't "throwing the baby out with the bathwater", but I was bothered by how it had become a profitable venture. It seemed as though worship leaders were commissioned with making music that is the purest form of expression and affection toward the Father, while being forced into a corporate structure. I suppose this is the age old, art vs. commerce argument, but it weighs even heavier with me when the subject is worship. How do you keep the worship pure while having to answer to business people and a marketing team? I certainly don't know the answer to that, but I think it's a question worth asking. What is more important....kingdom impact or units sold? Can you have both? This caused me to begin to ponder everything about our modern idea of worship, and I believe this was a very important part of my journey.

I learned that the word worship, when translated from the Greek, means "to kiss towards", and this really impacted me. I began to ponder every aspect of what it means to worship God in song. I would compare it to a relationship between a husband and wife. How weird would it be to say, "Ok, honey, every Sunday morning at precisely 10am, we are going to kiss for twenty minutes"? Or how weird would it be to read the same poem to your wife every day? These are the kinds of questions I would ask myself in regard to worship. How do you marry the fact that church starts at a certain time, and of course has to have some structure, with the idea of worship being this creative, spontaneous expression of the heart? I found it difficult to do. It hit me as false, and I didn't want to give God anything false. That would be not only deceitful, but insulting. It became increasingly more difficult for me to participate in corporate worship, and for a while, I couldn't participate at all. Since then, much has happened in my heart, and worship time at church on Sunday is something I look forward to all week. But at that time, it was important for me to step back and ask questions.

I started to lead some worship when churches would ask me to, but it would always fall flat, and I just assumed I wasn't called to be a worship leader. In the meantime, I would sit down at my piano at home almost every day, and just worship the Lord in such a pure way that was so genuine to me. I just figured that was my time with Him, and out of those times have come many worship and "life" songs. When I would sit down at the piano, everything seemed to line up, and that is when I felt the most connected to God. Around this time, I read Don Miller's book, "Searching For God Knows What". Miller effectively makes the point that Jesus never followed a certain pattern, and God works the most powerfully when not contained within a formula or equation. It was as if he was saying things I had always thought but never said out loud.

To this day, I sit and worship the Lord at the piano regularly. I was out doing a show when I was pregnant with Dyllan, and I was exhausted. I felt like my concerts were good, but they lacked something. I didn't know what to do, and I was backstage one night, and there was a piano in my dressing room. I looked at the piano and I heard the Lord say, "I want you to do what you do at home." I didn't hear him audibly, but it was one of those whispers in the back of your head kind of things. I have only heard the Lord speak to me like this one other time in my life. I realized that at home, I don't make a set list, I flow from one song to another without knowing where it will end up, and it is always fresh and always true. That night, I only planned the first 4 or 5 songs, and I flowed on the piano for the rest of the concert. The response was strong, but more importantly, it just felt right. Now when I go out and play, I lead worship as much as I can. I'm not the most amazing musician in the world, and I have friends who can sing circles around me, but this I know is true...when I sing, I have one objective. My objective is to make a spiritual world tangible. It's to touch the heart of God, and demonstrate that passion to anyone who will listen.

Welcome

2009-07-30T08:57:00.000-07:00

Until now, I've been using myspace as my main blog site. However, I have come to realize that myspace has become a wasteland of marketing. It seems as though now, it is marketers marketing to each other and feasting on the spoils of their respective markets, while the real consumer is playing yoville on facebook. So welcome to my new blog, enjoy!