Fall 2019

The Fall challenge of 2019 - sharing, laughing and encouraging, never ever grows old. It goes way beyond the music, the humor, and what happens on stages or platforms. >> Performers, singers, speakers, preachers, communicators, connectors broadcasters -- let's ALL take on the urgency of being nothing more than a loudspeaker filled with the anointing of the gospel. That is MY mission; that is the call. Bring it on! 

For more info on each event, click here.

Scrounger!

“One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish…”. Or in my current sphere, “One fish, two fish, Sue ate, bad fish!” Yikes and yes. I ate bad fish last month on the road somewhere. Now I’m blue, or at least I was. Somewhere in the process of the quest for good seafood, I hooked an uninvited parasitic microsporidia. Sounds worse than what it is, but still, it’s knocked me for a loop. “Green eggs and ham woulda been better, Sam-I-Am.” And my liver would have stood up and applauded.

Seuss-isms aside, I am grateful for every healthy ingested morsel of food, but, as I was told (progressing countries aside) not all prepared food in U.S. restaurants are “clean”… Hmmm. Ya think? Shoot. I dined in Haiti many times, plus Philippines and other foreign countries, but never came home this sick. Thankfully a dear friend suggested I see her daughter who is a homeopathic guru. She has me on a biological warfare regimen of natural remedies. As with everything I do and everything I am, I seem to always do it royally but always portray the humor in it all. And maybe that’s part of the healing process too. So, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m not “floundering." I'm actually laughing. 

I went to the Container Store in Nashville to buy a soft-pack mini-duffle to keep all this homeopathic chemistry set in one location. I also have charts and graphs to keep me on schedule. One of the surprises to all this is how disciplined I CAN be when I want to be. Hmmm. Amazing. Treating the cause and not just the symptom takes longer. Much longer. One friend suggested I should check myself into a clinic and have them just flush out my system over a period of five days, with (get this) …salt water. Then I’d for sure grow gills. Instead, I’ll be the best home patient, pretend I’m feeling okay with a stiff upper lip and just take lots of naps. Bland food has been my best friend too these days. “Stay away from spicy and rich foods, Sue.” Yup. Doin’ that. “Did you eat sushi? Is that how you got this “thing, Sue?” Nope. I stay far away from raw fish. Trying to pinpoint the exact culprit has been a task. “Was it the shrimp? The grouper? The oysters? The Maryland Crab? (Oh, God no - not the Maryland Crab!! Surely it wasn’t THAT… Maryland crab is the heavenly nectar of ocean/bay sustenance of life!) 

In the mean time, I just pray health over my pancreas and adrenals, that they just totally ignore that irritating parasite and just go about doing their job. Parasites in fish are a common natural occurrence, I’m told. Especially farm-raised fish, which is why I stay away from Tilapia. I seriously ask before ordering, “Is it wild-caught?” I’m waiting for the next smart aleck waitress to tell me, “Yes ma’am, we “wildly” caught it at the farm.” And as it turns out - I literally “bought the farm” in my love for fish and paid a huge consequence for it. 

“So, Sue, will you still eat fish once you’re over this thing?” Good question. I actually ate some shrimp last night… and so far, I’m doing okay. I’ll continue to stay far away from farm-raised and stick to wild-caught. And since my mental state needs adjustment too, I find great therapy in name-calling this parasite. 

“You no good creek-chubsucker dog-fishin' son-of-a-mackeral summer flounder fluke eatin’ blow fish yellow-bullheaded sea troutin’ large mouth bass-actin’ Dolly Varden cusk of a scrounger! You ain’t messin’ with me!” 

All said, "In Jesus' name", of course. 

Touché Cliché (Her Best Work Yet) LOL!

I don’t usually talk in clichés, but in this instance, it’s quite healing. Some of you will get the gist. Others, I may lose quickly. But hang on. I just may step on some toes! This is a true story. Oh, and see if you can tell me how many clichés I’m using! :)

I’m not gonna beat around the bush. A little bird told me I may have pushed the proverbial envelope a little too far. The egg on my face is not all it’s cracked up to be, but none-the-less, there’s not enough room to swing a cat in this over-the-top naked truth. Simply said, I was caught red-handed, but thankfully NOT with my pants down. Instead I let the cat out of the bag and was called on the carpet for jumping on the bandwagon of terse reality. I couldn’t keep it under my hat any longer, but I knew somehow this might be the kiss of death for me and my holy humor. The jig is up. Can’t hold a candle to it. It’s a Catch 22, if there ever was one.

You see, I’ve been known to charm the pants off many. I’ve chewed the fat and jumped through hoops with the best of ‘em. Since the fans of this gospel/singing/comedy life assume you live the life of Riley, the truth is: It’s pretty much hand to mouth. I have no bitter pill to swallow or reason to get my dander up. I’m no longer quiet as a mouse and I must quit my belly aching. But after three long weeks with extra long graveyard shift drives, I was head over heels weary while barking up the wrong tree of fatigue. Bet your bottom dollar, this best bib and tucker girl will say wrong things when she’s tired. (Lord, what did she say??)

Ready. Set. Go. I said the “A - double scribble” word during one of my comedy concerts. It flew out of my mouth like birds of a feather flocking together. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I tell ya for sure - my mother would have boxed my ears, breaking a leg (or two), and surely would be busting my chops over this one. By hook or crook, I knew this can of worms would NEVER give me enough time to spew an explanation or get a word in edgewise to the audience. It’s like I was caught red-handed in “if the shoe fits, wear it” language faux pas. 

So Sue becomes Johnny on the spot, keeping her fingers crossed, that no one noticed this “let your hair down” expression. I was simply making no bones about it, the “A _ _” word came out after the mom in the audience finally took her precocious toddler out of the sanctuary. The naked truth is, the toddler was a full gamut loose cannon and mark my words, whatever I would or would not say, I’d be here today and gone tomorrow. I, the performer, was distracted. So I raise my Ebenezer, hit the nail on the head, and say (out loud to the audience), “If that was me when I was a kid, my mother would have hauled my “A _ _” to the parking lot!" (except I said THE word). 

Silence, horror, then applause and laughter....

Beggars can’t be choosers, but bet your bottom dollar, someone in my world will be offended that I'm even retelling this tale. But hell or high water, I was between a rock and hard place dealing with both the toddler and his behavior and me and my “I can’t bite my tongue” any longer syndrome. My heart hurt like the Dickens, but I grinned like a Cheshire cat. We laughed, we cried, (the audience and I) for forever it seemed. Thank God they didn’t throw the baby (me) out with the bath water. I was down in the mouth for dropping the hammer for only a little while. This dyed in the wool singer/humorist of over forty years has realized that this once in a blue moon utterance was one for the road. 

Before you cast the first stone, eat your heart out, oh precious sacred-talking friend! Like you’ve never done something like this...

I am eating crow and eating one’s own words, but I’m thanking God today that being real is as easy as pie for me. Too easy maybe..

In this eleventh hour, pardon my french here: If you fly off the handle or fight fire with fire, you’ll surely be an offense. If I can put my two cents in here: Put a sock in it. You’re like the pot calling the kettle black, if you haven’t at least once said something publicly you shouldn’t have. If your name is mud today, I’m not pulling your chain here - be very thankful. The people around you who are fit to be tied because of your transparency aren’t as fit as a fiddle as you think. I’d prefer to just put a feather in my cap, face the music, whistle down the wind on a wing and a prayer, and quit wearing my heart on my sleeve. 

You’ll get opposition and you’ll make some mad as a hatter. But don’t ever give up being real. Two shakes of a lamb’s tale, I’m up the creek without a paddle sometimes. Thankfully my ducks are all in a row and I’m eating humble pie. With my kit and caboodle, I’m loaded for bear and keeping my shirt on ‘til Katy bars the door.

Let that cat out of the bag. Let your hair down. People need Jesus. The real Jesus. The one without the chip on His shoulder, ‘cause when the chips are down, He’s no cock and bull story. Give credit wear credit is due. Be the low man on the totem pole and you’ll be pleased as punch, flying with colors when your fair to middling life becomes truer than every other Tom, Dick and Harry. Be you. For the love of Pete, be you. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re the apple of HIS eye, even when you can’t bite your tongue or resist blowing off some steam. Loose lips sink ships, but mark my word, don’t go dragging your feet down the straight and narrow.

The photo below is the creation of my good friend and MOST HIGH REVEREND Tim Satryan. LOL!

A Communicable Dizzy-ease!

   I told a little friend of mine, who will soon turn eleven - "Sweetie, you will draw more people TO you when you smile!"
   She looked at me dumbfounded and said, "I can't draw people too good. I can draw trees and horses better."
   I got it. I laughed.
   My favorite story recently was posted on Facebook by a gal attending church here in the Nashville area. When she "checked in" and wrote a status update, she inadvertently checked in to Hooter's Restaurant, which was right across from the church. That's funny in itself. She wrote, "In His Presence" - at Hooters. (I'm dying over here!) But the best response was her friend's comment under the status update. "Girl, you better cross that street!"
   Now THAT"s funny right there!
   I love the comedy network on Sirius radio. Without it, I'd be in a ditch somewhere off a major highway. It keeps me in stitches, laughing, even when I'm bone tired from late-night driving. Keeping me awake is the goal. That's a good thing. A comedian said yesterday; (Husband in his eighties yells to his wife) "What's it like outside?" She says, "It's windy." He responds, "No it's not, it's Thursday." She says back, "Yeah, so am I - what do you want, water or tea?" (I'm dizzy with laughter! Love it!)
   I have since decided, since most of you who follow me know - I have a communicable funny dizzy-ease. It's infectious, transmissible and comes by being in direct contact with someone who is dizzily in love with laughter, goofy stories, and spontaneous kid-like frolic. People will be drawn to you, like a horse drawn to water. (Literally though, my glass is half empty right now, 'cause it fell off the table! But that doesn't mean that my attitude is half empty. it just means I got to get up again from the table and fill my glass back up with cucumber water... and clean the mess on the floor. I need Mr. Ed..)
   For all my social media friends and experts out there who post on a regular basis, let me help you with something: Don't be God. Don't be judgmental. Don't express hatred through sarcasm. Invite others in the conversation. Applaud, praise and comment on posts that are worthy of your stamp of approval. Be communicable in the best of ways. Share in the "dizziness" and ease of your shortcomings. You never look better to the world than when you are real and vulnerable. I ain't horsin' around with this.
   Jesus reminds us all, "Everything I have is yours." (Luke 15:31) It's a contagious and communicable "ease" (without the dis), knowing that you can have this gift called everything.
Share it. Sing it. Speak it. Write it. Live it. Draw it.
   BTW, my little friend drew a picture of me. When she handed it to me, I looked like a horse. I laughed. She laughed. Then she said, "I 'drew' you, right?"
   Yes, baby girl, you drew me alright. :)

Which Controller?

We have five remotes for our television viewing convenience... One to turn it on. One for changing channels. One for the DVD player. One for the volume/stereo control. And one that I have no clue what it's for.. Then, to top it off, we now can use our iPhones to control the Apple TV accessory. So really, that's SIX ways to control (or be controlled!) It makes me tired. I need the "Remote Controllers for Dummies" manual. (And to think, I used to run a radio station, for cryin' out loud, yet I'm befuddled when it comes to understanding this system.) My greatest fear is that I'll be here at home all by myself without Jeff or Annie and not have a clue how to use any of this stuff! So, guess what my remedy is? I leave the TV on. The cat appreciates the entertainment while we're gone, I'm sure.

I love this scripture: Philippians 3:20-21 "But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables Him to bring everything under His control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like His glorious body."

Under "His" control. Good word. (Which is why I pictured my greatest remote control of all - God's Word. There's no manual needed to read it, use it, live it. It IS THE manual!)

The Lasting Laugh

It's not surprising to me anymore that the women I meet and with whom I interact, especially over the recent series of LOL, Girls Night Out, and Chuckles & Chocolate events this spring, have incredibly gripping faith stories. Stories that aren't very neat and clean. From atheists, to crack addicts, to former prostitutes on parole, I feel like Dorothy when she said to Toto, "I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

The "Kansas" for me, used to be: Well groomed, shiny-haired, picture perfect "June Cleaver" women who do church, have church, live church. The churchy women. You know, the squeaky clean, non-messy, religious women's events that rank right up there with Martha Stewart prep and decor. That's what it used to be. Until...

...Until I started praying for revival and outreach like never before. Until I started to realize that even in comedy and humor (especially), women are coming out in droves, bringing their friends and co-workers, because they just can't do "church" anymore. They don't fit the status quo of expectation and pew-sitting. Many don't even have a history of church in their background. But what they CAN do is bring their heavy hearts and despair for a one night experience of "hoping to be inspired, healed and encouraged." This is what I saw. This is what I see.

I gripped the left hand of a 13 year old girl who wanted the words to the crazy acronym-texting song, "LOL", smiling and laughing, while at the same time I grasped the right hand of an 89 year old gal who was crying saying, "My heart has been heavy for so long. I needed to laugh SO badly tonight. Thank you."

To the nay-say-ers out there who think or suppose that the ministry of comedy and music isn't reputable or needed in our religious circles, let me say to you (because I can - it's MY blog!): Never before in over 40 years of ministry have I ever seen such despair, difficulty, hardship, pain, anxiety and lack of trust - among women. The sad news is that many of these women will never attend a seminar or women's conference on "How to Have More Faith" or "Intercessory Prayer" or "Inner Healing" or "Grace". Why? Because they say it hurts way too much to go. It hurts to feel guilty because of the mistakes they've made.

They are, however, coming to comedy events. Events that have the word "fun" attached somewhere. They're bringing their teenagers, their co-workers, their cousins, sisters, and neighbors too. Why? Because they need to laugh. They need to know that Jesus laughs. They need to experience a true belly laugh, by looking deep into their own hearts. Ironically, it's the most covert evangelistic tool out there. And once a woman's heart is wide open, it is then and there that the Gospel can be received like never before. I know this, for I have seen it to be true.

Seventeen events in twenty-one days. That's what I did on the road from April 26th through May 17th. Thousands of women, all of their faces in front of me now as I write this.. Many who did not know God, but came because they "heard" it was going to be fun.

Fun. God. Laughter. Healing. Hope. Future.

This is why I do what I do. We're not in "Kansas" anymore. All the more the reason to stay prayed up, using your gifts to be relevant to a new generation of women. And yes, I sang the Oldies too. One woman even raised her hand after I sang, "Ain't Nothin' Like the Real Thing", and shouted, "PRAISE GOD!" We laughed. We cried too. She had no history of hymns, gospel music or praise & worship songs in her background, but she "understood" the language of the Mo-Town Ashford/Simpson song by Tammi Terrell and Marvin Gaye. It blessed her. It spoke to her heart, somehow. We prayed later and listed other Mo-Town songs that had some secret sacred language! A fun moment for this Oldies DJ, I tell ya!

Then my new atheist friend approached me at the end of a concert. Here's the dialogue:
(Mary) Hi Sue. I didn't agree with most of what you sang or spoke about tonight.
(me) I wouldn't think you would, as I probably wouldn't agree with you either at your meetings.
(Mary) My sister made me come.
(me) Cool.
(Mary) I did like the Oldies you sang...
(me) Thanks Mary. The same God that sings through me during the hymns and sacred songs, is also the same God who sings through me when I sing the Oldies and Standards.
(Mary) hmmm.....
(me) I love you, Mary. Seems you'll have a lot to think about tonite...

She. Laughed.

(Sidenote:)..And because she's learned the value of living her faith on-line via social media, women are coming out to events promoted. They know that the "Sue" on-line is the same "Sue" in person. - Renee Sullivan, from MD
Get the book @stickyJesus. You'll see why.

My Right Brain Argues With My Left Brain!

One of the great blessings of traveling and being with women as they orchestrate their events is: I see A LOT! I see incredible creativity and excitement, walking with a committee of women who are planning "their" special outreach. THIS is not a "one and done" process for me. This is walking WITH the committee and leaders, from the very beginning they call me to come and speak, share, humorize, sing, whatever! I LOVE this, because - being on both sides - I understand the needs of the venue, but also know the process it takes for a speaker/singer to be relevant to the group of women who will come.

The biggest dilemma for me personally is - pacing myself! To me, the event starts from the moment I land at the airport and from then on - it never ends! I love staying connected with many new women I meet each week, via Facebook, twitter or even texting back and forth. What a great way to follow up and encourage one another.

So, considering that I'm not a great steward of pacing myself physically, I battle the right brain/left brain thing. Kelly, from Port Jervis, asked me this past weekend, "So, are we going to go out after and party and have a girls lunch??" My right brain said, "YES!!! I'm SO THERE!" Then, my left brain spoke up and said, "hmmm,,, you better not! You still have another event yet, and you're gonna regret it......!"

Kelly's best line of the day, after I expressed the civil war going on in my head was, "Well Sue, when you decide among yourself, let me know!"

Nuff said! :)

Of course, I went!