Last night, I drove over the George Washington Bridge, sipping hot water and warming up my voice with vocal exercises learned from high school choir class. I was on my way to Clark Theatre at Lincoln Center in Manhattan to perform in a benefit concert for the World Mission Foundation . It’s been a while since I’ve performed on a stage in front of an audience. Parties, restaurants, and bars are a completely different venue. People are having conversations with one another and are generally occupied with something other than giving their full attention to the musician providing background music. I am free to make mistakes, forget lyrics, and play wrong chords in those instances. But not for a performance. A stage requires perfection. A mistake is seen by hundreds of eyes. In my incessant over preparation, my voice became hoarse the morning of, leaving me to exhaust every home-remedy for sore throat relief I could imagine. When I arrived at the theatre, I was first shown to the dressin...

I’ve written songs, blogs, and more about my anxiousness and worry. I suppose some people are just more inclined to be constantly restless and apprehensive. I don’t know if I’ll ever get past it completely. Yesterday, it stormed all day long. I was out running errands around town in the pouring rain. It’s frustrating because I don’t get my morning run in, and Joy with her boundless puppy energy is cooped up in the house all day, running laps around the dining room table and torturing the cat. Sometime in the afternoon, the gray, dim light that poured in through the living room window mini blinds, turned into a warm, bright yellow. I peeked out and discovered the beauty of a perfect summer afternoon. Joy and I rushed outside and played fetch until she was exhausted, which only took a few minutes. She tore up and down the grass, chasing birds and barking in such a frenzy, she tired herself out in no time. It was a good thing too because as we walked towards the front door, I felt sprinkl...

Why must we get angry over small things? Why do we judge others for doing something that we may personally disagree with? I have spent a lot of time with those who believe men must have short hair, women must wear skirts, the Lord’s supper must be taken only on a certain day, too much make up is evil, women should aspire to be mothers and wives and nothing more, drums in music is evil, along with public swimming pools and movie theatres. If these things, as well as others were not followed to the letter, there would be judgment. Not from God, but from other fallible human beings.  To most people that idea seems ridiculous. However, even those “most people” don’t realize that they too have their own “rules” to be followed in order for their idea of a reasonable standard to be met. I have caught flack for joining the military, marrying an NCO, even looked down upon because my husband and I have no children. Everyone thinks they know best. But only One knows best for me, and that is...

This is a song I wrote probably 6 years ago, but never really knew the right arrangement until Norah Jones came along. Then I knew I wanted that acoustic, simple sound with the piano as an embellishment, rather than carrying the entire accompaniment like many of my other songs. Hope you enjoy. Recording below. “I Still Think About You” Words and music by Elizabeth Grimes Copyright 2009 Verse 1: You didn’t break my heart. You didn’t crush all my dreams. You never mistreated me. We agreed it wasn’t meant to be. We casually said goodbye Both smiling as we walked away. No anger pain or sadness. Another boy, another day. I never was in love with you. And still I swear this is true. But ever now and then I have a passing thought of you. A fleeting moment of memory When I bite my lip and smile. And think of that brief time We were together for a while. Chorus: I still think about you. Sometimes I wish you’d just call. One more try could be the last try. Could be the end of it all. Could...

My car has over 106,000 miles on it, nearly each and every one of them driven with myself at the wheel. Some of what I pass is familiar, and much is brand new. There are rolling green hills in North Carolina that could pass as a view from Ireland. There is farmland in Pennsylvania that could be the inspiration for a painter’s masterpiece. And there are sunsets in Nebraska that couldn’t be more beautiful, even if they were set over the Italian waters of Venice. When I hear of people who grew up in strange and exotic places like Key West, or Hawaii, I wonder what amazing things they've seen and experienced. What unique stories they must have to tell. They must really have special lives unlike any other. During my travels, I've realized that it’s not just the pictures on postcards that are magical. I know of a place called the Russian Bottom in Lincoln, NE, where the majestic blare of a railroad train horn brings unmatched awe and wonder to little boys on a daily basis. I once h...

There are some days, like today, when I know I need God's help. I know that I can't do it alone and I must ask Him to carry me through. But like everything else in my mind, I talk myself crazy. I'm not sure what I should say. I'm afraid I'm asking too much, or asking for something other than God's will. I feel guilty, like maybe I only pray when I want something, or that He should devote His attention to those really in need, the poverty stricken, the abused, or ill. All I know is I need help and to get help, I must ask Him for it. There were times, I'm ashamed to admit, when I would simply forgo prayer all together for all the above reasons. It wasn't until recently, He reminded me what to do. Now, when I feel this way, I simply revert to back about 20 years to Sunday school and recite the Lord's Prayer. I close my eyes, take a breath, and pray every word, allowing the words to flow with fervent conviction when needed. The Lord knows what's r...

“There is no substitute for hard work.” –Thomas Alva Edison My heart tells me this is true, but my mind tells me, ” Maybe you’re not working hard enough. Work harder. Do more. And if you don’t reach your goal, it’s simply because you didn’t work hard enough .” We’ll see soon enough. Tomorrow, in fact. If I don’t reach this goal, I hope I can handle it. I hope that my reward for recently recognizing my neurotic crazy and trying to correct it, will be to reach this goal. If not, I may slip back into neurotic crazy. But I hope not. But if I do reach this goal, how will I ever learn to cope when I don’t reach one in the future. Maybe I’ll never learn. But I’m trying to learn. I’m doing it again, aren’t I? C'est la vie. What will be will be. I can say it, now if I could only believe it. Nope, still not there yet. But I’m trying. God, can I have points for trying? I guess we’ll see after today, because points is what I need.