Posted on Saturday, March 17, 2007

Music In Their Hearts

(Staff Photo By Herb Nygren Jr.)

STUDIO: Jim Patton, 57, displays a custom-modified guitar, one of several he has at his home studio in Garden Valley on Wednesday. The Southern California native said he “hot-rodded” his first guitar in typical car-like fashion at age 15, painting it candy-apple red before he even knew how to play it.

By PATRICK BUTLER
Religion Editor

On the verge of driving his first Indianapolis racing car in 1969, 19-year-old Jim Patton had a choice to make. He'd recently been "converted" as a result of the "Jesus Movement" sweeping through Southern California and knew once handling the thrilling car it might be too much to pull away from and do what God wanted from his life.

"It was one of those "Indy" Parnelli Jones-type race cars," said Patton. "It was a big chance and right in front of me. All I had to do was say 'yes' and climb in."

But Patton also had being playing electric guitar with local bands in his hometown of San Diego since he was 15. That factor was destined to make a difference in his life.

"Our band had been playing school dances, parties, halls, anything, you name it," said Patton. "Then the whole band became Christians during the Jesus Movement. There was really nothing called contemporary Christian music back then for us to get into, so at our gigs we just told people, 'if you want to talk about Jesus, come see us at the break or after the show.' That's all we knew how to do. We played the same songs we'd played before. We were just Christians now."


'INDY' CAR
Then came the chance to drive the "Indy" car. The offer didn't appear from thin air. Patton was an up-and-coming driver tutored by his semipro racing dad who'd bought his son an expensive quarter-midget racing car years earlier. The elder Patton encouraged his son to drive fast and faster, letting Jim soak in the thrill of soaring inches off the ground weekend after weekend on Southland speedways.

"I loved driving," Patton said. "My friends kept telling me, 'why do you do that racing stuff? It's dangerous.' I'd say, 'hey, you can hit your head and drown surfing' and laugh at them."

While other kids were racing slot-cars, go-carts or doing tricks on "banana-seat" bicycles on sunny weekends, Patton raged like a California wildfire on Southland speedways, eager to follow in his father's tire treads. Racing ran deep into his blood.

"It wasn't much of a question back then what I was going to do when I grew up," he said. "I was going to race."


THE BEATLES
Perhaps it was the Beatles' concert Patton worked in San Diego in 1965 that helped the young guitarist to see his own possibilities in music.

"It was crazy on concert day," Patton said. "My eyes were wide open when the Beatles drove up to the gate my friends and I were manning. There was this huge mob of kids running, screaming just behind them. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. We opened the gate and then slammed it shut just in time. Those kids hit it like a big wave, 'smack,'" he said, striking his palms from emphasis, "right up into it. The fence bent inward and we pushed back hard."

When the Beatles came out of their motor home, Patton was helping with the gear. He took a good look at these international "idols," the point men of the British Invasion who were nearly worshipped around much of the world.

"When they got out, they just struck me as such normal guys, just like me and you," he said. "That's how a lot of the musicians in this (musical) British Invasion seemed back then. They were just regular guys, and they could play. I was a regular guy and that meant I could play too."

Being encouraged, and then finding that "lead" or melody playing came easily, Patton found a temporary place in music and racing, even after becoming a Christian. But when the offer to step up to serious driving came, Patton said he prayed from his newfound perspective of being a "disciple" of Jesus.

"Jesus was the deciding factor," said Patton. "In the end, I wanted to make myself more available to God, and thought God could use me more in music than he could as a racecar driver."

Patton turned down the chance to drive, he said, and never looked back.

"Rightly or wrongly, that was the choice I made," he said smiling and shrugging his shoulders.


(Staff Photo By Herb Nygren Jr.)

GOLD STRIKE: Singer/song-writer Dee Patton wrote lyrics with husband Jim for the couple’s gold and platinum albums while living in East Texas. The Pattons are about to release their latest CD, a musical “rock opera” they wrote and produced.

GOING GOLD
With two gold and two platinum albums hanging on the walls of the Garden Valley home of Patton and his singing and song-writing wife Dee, some may say he choose "rightly."

The young couple joined the national evangelistic ministry, Agape Force, in the 1970s, moving to Northern California to use their musical talents and bring people closer to God. As a result, the widely distributed "Agapeland" came forth, an Agape Force hit that drew attention to the ministry and their message.

Agape Force moved from California to Garden Valley and the Pattons flourished, striking gold and the platinum albums for the nationwide hit, "Music Machine." They followed it with another motherlode strike, gold and platinum albums again, this time for "Bullfrogs and Butterflies."

Following that success, they created "Nathaniel and the Grublets," a children's musical story spawning innumerable church plays, musicals, radio broadcasts and spin-off "copycat" characters from coast to coast, and years on years. Their influence and reach as songwriters rang to every corner of the country.

The good news is the duo hasn't stopped writing music and lyrics - or performing with their grown daughters when they can get a break from studio work.


SELFISH GIANT
Last Saturday night Jim and Dee along with daughter Bree, were "letting go" at a fun gig at Rockwell's Coffee Shop in Lindale, going through hits of the '60s Jim grew up with. The trio expertly navigated their way through tunes by the Beatles, Manfred Mann, the Everly Brothers, the Beach Boys, Ricky Nelson, the Hollies, the Four Seasons and others.

"This was just a chance for us to get out for a break and play the hits people know," said Patton. "We've been working hard for the last three years on a 'rock opera' based on a fairy tale by Oscar Wilde, 'The Selfish Giant.'"

The couple is on the verge of releasing the double-album-length project. Patton said he didn't mind a bit that the story came from a potentially controversial source.

"Whatever Wilde was, he really had something with 'The Selfish Giant,'" Patton said during an interview at his home on Wednesday.

"The story shows how destructive selfishness is, how it hurts relationships and how that can be changed - if you're willing to change," he said. "'Selfish Giant' has broad appeal and anyone at any age, Christian or not, can get something from this."

The music, an expertly produced and layered synthesis of sounds Patton picked up over the decades, has broad appeal as well. Ear-pleasing Beach Boy-style harmonies can be heard over reminisces of Manfred Mann riffs, accented by period rock-guitar styles and a cacophony of instruments, wrapped in the unique Patton creative style. The album has the sound of being conceived by an ear that has listened to all good things in the last 35 years.

"I wasn't looking to sound like any specific band style, but perhaps era specific," Patton said. "I put together sounds from so many different styles and eras that I liked, thinking others would like them as well. Dee co-wrote all of the songs."

The metaphor is about redemption, they said.

"Admittedly, this kind of musical presentation and message is rare today," said Dee, glancing at a platinum album hanging on her wall. "But our heart is still there; still trying to draw people to that change of life. We've tried to shake the call," she laughed, "but we can't."

Patton has set up a Web site, www.jimndee.com, where continually updated versions of the songs on "Selfish Giant" can be heard as they near completion. Also included on the site is a song trail that can be heard of the Patton's decades-long commitment to know Christ and make him known.

"This isn't the only project we're involved with right now," said Patton, "but it's taken the longest time to put together. We've poured everything we have creatively into it."

As a constant reminder of their first years in Smith County, Dee Patton still works at the Mercy Ships International Operations Center in Garden Valley. Mercy Ships eventually took possession of the property years after Agape Force had built old western-motif buildings to house offices and perhaps shoot "western" films on. Dee still walks the wooden planks of the boardwalks she and her husband contributed to years ago.

"When I walk down those boards. I think 'our songs helped build this place and it's still being used for God.' That's what it's all about."

To hear selections from The Selfish Giant, visit the Web at www.jimndee.com.

Patrick Butler covers religion. He can be reached at 903.596.6304. email: religion@tylerpaper.com

As always I am the first one awake here in the early morning. The sound of the heater working and the flicker of Christmas tree lights are the only sound and movement besides the animals. All four cats are prowling about, wishing the rest of the house would awaken. Cheddar is trying to get one of the other cats to play with him. When that fails he will climb in a cupboard or think of some other kind of mischief. Old Bruin, the Golden Retriever Catahoula mix, is lying on his bed not far from me as I type. The other two dogs, an incredible black Lab we call Orson and a wonderful Heeler named Gypsy we rescued with their puppies (and only found homes for the puppies so far). They've gone outside to sniff the morning and perhaps will decide to do a walkabout of the territory they decided was theirs when they were completely on their own. I’m not sure how big it is, but sometimes they are gone for several days. We try not to think of them as ours, but I’m pretty sure they claim us as their humans.

I sit here sipping mint tea with a little honey and a lot of half and half from an insulated Chevron mug, a gift from a friend at Mercy Ships. I sit and I contemplate the wondrous peace and quiet of the morning, the presence of God and the musings of my own spirit.

The first thing that washed over me when I got up was thankfulness. It’s a good way to begin any day, no matter what the circumstance. Truly memorable, though, when it comes unbidden. In this case I was remembering a night a few years ago when I was lying on a camping mattress on the floor of our living room, huddled against the cold in a sleeping bag, wearing these same sweats I am wearing now. The studio was in our bedroom and Jim and I usually slept on a mattress put down at night in the space his office chair occupied during the day. However, my snoring (yes I must admit it) and the cramped conditions were making it hard for him to sleep, so I had moved my carcass out to the living room temporarily to see if he would sleep better that way until we could find a way to remedy both problems.

There was a love seat and a nice cumfy chair in that tiny living room, but the love seat was far too small to sleep in all night and the recliner, though comfortable at first, didn’t let me get a good nights sleep. Oh, I would sleep, but always on the edge of waking - always dreaming - and wake up exhausted. The floor and the camping mattress were infinitely better, even though there was a noticeable draft.

It was Christmas then too. I remember waking up in the still darkness of the early morning to the blinking Christmas Tree lights. As I lay there then, wondering when the children would awaken and sally forth from their bunk beds, surveying my little house by the light of a blinking Christmas tree, the same thankfulness overwhelmed me. That single wide trailer had been GIVEN to us. Granted it wasn’t in the best of shape, but Jim had redone the sub floors and fixed and painted. We had acquired carpet for free. The living room furniture we paid for, but not much. Jim had built a wonderful big island table in the kitchen that was, indeed, a multi purpose surface and beautiful besides. It had cabinets in its base, effectively doubling my kitchen cabinet space. There was an awesome porch he built with his own hands and the mobile home sat butted up against a wooded area from which we had cleared the underbrush during our morning exercise/work-times together. It was positively park like. That little trailer was an icon in my heart that morning of more than 25 years of God’s continuing and “outside the box” provision for us. He certainly put in us a creative spirit, but that alone could not account for all the wonderful provision that surrounded me. His promises to me stood strong. If I sought His kingdom first he would take care of my daily needs - or - as he whispered in my ear as a teen “If you will help me take care of the needs of others, I will personally see to yours.”

The fact that the mobile home had been donated was awesome, but the fact that it sat on 10 acres that God had provided was truly incredible. My heart pulsed with thankfulness that morning as I came fully awake beneath the Christmas lights in conditions most people would associate with poverty. But to me it was bounty. It was God’s gift of continuing provision to me. For that moment in time, it was all I needed and more.

So this morning when I came stumbling out of my room after sleeping beside my husband on a king sized bed, (Granted it’s a room still shared with his studio, but what a studio it has become!) and I surveyed the much larger and more wonderful habitat that God has provided since that day years ago, that memory and those waves of thankfulness returned full force and with interest.

Everywhere I look I see the things and the evidence of the people God has put in my life. Things I have not sought hard after. People I am amazed with and thankful for every day. As I sift through the cards and the updates and the emails I am filled with wonder at the truth of His promise to me.

If my life had been an experiment I would have to conclude, after all these years, that God is real, His promises true, his love tangible. Like the wind we cannot see as it grabs at our coat and blows through our hair, so his love has blown me to a place I could never have traveled alone and given me such love as I never would have dreamed.

The ghost of Christmas past visited me early this morning and washed me with wonder as I sat here enjoying the God who created each day in his love (including the solstices) and who’s birth as a man we honor on this day. It is hard to fear any future when His love continues undiminished and His promises are as sure today as the day I first realized they could apply to me.

I finally got a few things done on the site. I've been strugging with the pages I was calling JoAnn's Blog. Those were to be images we had scanned from her bible and journals and it was a good idea, but for some reason I haven't been able to get the pictures to show up when I paste them inside a blog page. Don't know why that was happening. It was working before. Shrug. So, I finally gave up and took those same pictures and made them a photo album. No room for writing in the blog what she had actually writtin on the pages, but until I can figure out how to do it better I suppose that'll just have to do for now.

I've also make some progress in the area of putting up some of the lyrics for our song. Finally finished with the lyrics for all of the Homesteading album. Whew! Took me long enough. Now I need to get busy and do some work on the agapeforce.com site. After that I'll come back and work on lyrics to Help Is On The Way. It's a busy, crazy time of year right now. Spending a LOT of time working, so it feels good to have been able to get this little bit done. Tomorrow I'll back up the system and upload these pages.

When Mom put off this body and traded it for a new model back in October, I sent an email to friends to let them know. Many had been praying for her and I think God really answered those prayers, but they needed to know that for us it had finished, even though for Mom it is just beginning. We will all go. It's not if. . . just when.

God granted my mother almost a year of quality time with us after she started to be very sick. He did wonderful things for her and through her right up until the very end. For one thing, her type of cancer is usually accompanied by horrible pain and though it did start out that way, He touched her and she became completely pain free. She got weaker, but never had trouble with pain again. I don't think they ever even filled the prescription for pain meds that came home with her from the hospital the first time. He also brought her back to mental/emotional stability and kept her "with us" until just a few days before her passing.

Mom's life was memorable for several reasons, but primarily because it was a life of prayer. She was a great warrior in that regard. And even when she was spending most of her time in her easy chair and didn't have the strength to get up and around, she occupied much of her time in prayer.

Helen, the next door neighbor was having heart trouble. Surgery was prescribed and scheduled. Mom prayed and surgery became unnecessary. Even when Mom was in the hospital, she would pray for the nurses, for the doctors and their kids - and talk to them about her savior. My Mom was not only a prayer warrior, but a real soul winner.

I was able to go spend time with her on several occasions, once taking my children and their children with me. We talked on the phone almost every day. So much so that it was sometimes hard to think of things to talk about. So, it was great. No loose ends or broken relationships. No wondering if she loved or was loved.

Now we are just praying for our broken hearted Dad, who is healing if somewhat slowly. For me, I have much comfort knowing that Mom is with her precious Lord and enjoying her daughter, Becky, mer Mom and Dad and most of her brothers and sisters. However, if I know Mom she's probably still bending His ear about kids, grandkids, great-grand kids, brothers, sisters and friends. I'm sure her prayers will continue to echo both here and in the heavenlies for some time.

Come into my presence this morning. Empty yourself out. All that you have to do, even that which is for me. Even that. it’s all got to wait. This exercise of beginning in my presence, this is why you love to walk alone in the early morning. To drink Me in. To sit before me. To know my heart. If you know my heart how easy to know my ways. If you know my heart, what matter where you are or what is before you. It is all the same. All can be met with the power of that fact alone.

Yes. My King. To sit and drink you in. To prostrate my heart before you. That is the most lovely of times. It brings such peace that I could easily sleep it seems. Thoughts dissipate. A sense of your nearness springs immediately upon my being. You are here. I am here. What a wonderful thing that is.

I wish everyone I know could feel this. Just to be lost in You. In the silence. In the still, quiet, closeness. In the precious, precious silence, You are here. I pray for my family and for my friends. For those that I see so entwined in the stress and pressures of life. Oh that you would give them this great blessing of heightened sensitivity to your presence. We know that you are ALWAYS with us. We, by faith walk through each day trusting in that wonderful fact. Yet, some by faith more than I, because whenever I stop. Whenever the silence reigns. Your presence is like the soft touch of fingers on my face.

Oh I could. Yes I could stay here like this for hours I think. If my life ever comes to the place where the phone stops ringing and the bustle goes away. If my responsibilities are ever given to another. Ah yes, if they put me in a nursing home and leave me for days and months and years. I think I could revel in this wonderful closeness forever.

Yes, I know. It must have it’s place. But when the span of my life is finally more than a breath. Then. Then may I sit before you just to bathe in your lovely light? Even then, I know. Even then there will be things to do and I do love them. I love everything I can do in your name and with your heart. I love working. I love seeing needs met. I love it when things come together. I love creating.Yet, here. Right here. This is what I love best of all. I love music, but the silence more. I love people, but your presence more. I love serving, but resting more. As long as the rest has in it this rich, thick, comfortable sensation of You. Oh, it is so addicting. So intensely wonderful. So intimate.

May I ask that you would fill me with it so much that it would spill over into my time with others. Please amplify this that I sense when everything stops and when things are silent and still. If there are things I can do to bring others into this, show me how. I am wholly unable, on my own, to do it at all. But, if you will grant me this one thing. That your PEACE and REST will resonate from me strongly - like now. Like here....only with the volume turned up. If you would dwell there in that peace and charge it with your love and healing. If you would grant that I could be one of those who can bring this that I sense now into the room when other things are happening and other people are there. Oh, what a great gift that would be.

Good morning, Lord. Good morning, Father dear.
Oh you, sweet one, who sent my Jesus here.
And as I wake to greet another day.
My heart has ears. Say what you want to say

I come and take more life from your deep well.
I press in close and breathe your lovely smell.
Oh my beloved. Oh my great lover king.
It can’t be helped. My heart has got to sing.

You’ve given me another day to love you
You’ve given me another day to care
You’ve given me another day to worship
Another day to know you’re really there
You’ve given me another day to work hard
You’ve given me another day to pray
You’ve given me another day to praise your holy name

I'm reading a little book right now, a chapter a day, for my devotions. It's not a new book. I've seen it around many times and have had it in my library forever. It's called "The Practice of the Presence of God." In this book are conversations with and letters from a monk who lived around 350 years ago. The content of the book is not earth shattering. I dare say it would seem radical to some, but it is a great reminder to me to simplify and reduce my focus down to just loving God continually and intentionally.

Now I am one of the last people who would ever recommend living by your feelings or even living in such a way as to try to conjure up some kind of feeling or sensation. And the term "the presence of God" seems to indicate experience somehow connected to our feelings. Faith goes beyond feelings, but it doesn't exclude or invalidate experience. Faith and truth help us interpret our senses and bring us solid footing so that we are not seduced by feelings into areas, addictions and activities that are bad for us and bad for others, including God. Feelings are incredible, but can be a dangerous drug to those who want them at any cost. An awareness, perhaps, might be a better word. Awareness can run the gamut of actual sensations or have no sensation at all and still be there - still be aware.

My sense of awareness, and I would be hard pressed to try to describe it, of the presence of God goes back to my earliest memories. I remember as a child, laying in bed and feeling the arms of the Father encircle and embrace me. It's not a memory of a certain instance, but an ongoing memory, like something that I was accustomed to. There is no special age when I remember it starting. I was seven when I made a conscious decision to follow Jesus, yet this feeling goes back further than that. By seven I had experienced the divorce of my parents and suffered a burn that should have killed me. Yet, I was an incredibly happy child. A dreamy and distracted child. As if my sensibilities were attuned, perhaps, to a slightly different frequency. If I am not vigilant to stay focused on what I'm doing and who I'm talking to I can be a very dreamy and distracted adult. The truth is, I cannot remember a time that I did not have a sense of The Presence.

Today, at 53, I have an incredibly full and busy life. Activity and responsibility fill every waking moment and more. I'm a singer - a musician. You would think that I would want an environment full of music and sound and yet I prefer the silence and the wee hours of the morning because in the quiet, before the day begins for others, all I need to do is let go of whatever it is I'm thinking or doing. In the briefest of moments I am aware that the undercurrent is still there. The air is slightly charged. Perhaps the slightest of caresses against my cheek. An invisible hand placed lightly on my shoulder. That oh so familiar embrace. He is there. He has been here every moment. He is here right now. This is not the kind of faith that believes in what it cannot prove. This is real awareness. I don't have to practice that presence. I don't even have to try for it or reach forit. All I must do is stop whatever it is I'm doing, breathe and lift my spiritual face again to receive those most wonderful of kisses. Out of this love everything flows. From Him, to Him, for Him. That indescribable Presence.

This morning we left East Texas and drove the 6 hrs to San Antonio. Right now I'm sitting in a room at the Hampton Inn catching up with email and a few other things, like writing here. Tomorrow, though, my life might change. Tomorrow we're meeting with good friends and a great team to decide our future. We're doing something called Strategic Planning for our Rock Opera, "The Selfish Giant". This is just another chapter in the ongoing saga of "Adventures in Discipleship." God told us to write it and we did. It's finished, but we're not. Now we have to figure out what to do next. Hopefully tomorrow will help us do that.

Okay, here we go. I'm going to start blogging here and gradually phase out my Dee's World Blog. It's getting tons of spam, plus this format seems like it will be easier for me to add pictures and links and other stuff. I try to blog every day and succeed at blogging about once a week. Shrug. One of these days life will let me write I'll work on setting it up for comments etc after a while, but right now just email me at dee@jimndee.com if you have something to say. I'm a learn as you go kind of semi-techno geek granny. So....give me some time.