Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus…

Let's just jump right in, shall we?
Here is the lowdown. Friday night I went to see Chris Tomlin, Christy Nockels, Audrey Assad, and Louie Giglio in their Glory in the Highest Tour. Glory in the Highest, indeed.

As any of my blog regulars, as well as my friends and family (and that one lady who got stuck behind me in line at Target last Tuesday)  know, I'm a huge Tomlin fan. It was a great event. A really good reminder of the reverence that should be in Christmas and what it's all about. And believe me, I needed that reminder. But anyway, let's get on with the irreverence.

Here is Christy Nockels. Notice the drummer behind her rocking the Daughtry look.

I think I spent most of the concert TRYING to get a good picture of the keyboardist's mullet.

Nope. Not good. Let's try again.

Ugh. So fuzzy, but I think you get the idea. It was mullet deluxe. And deceptive. Yes, it was a wily mullet, because it took me a while to realize he had it going on. Well played, sir. Well played.

Here is the man of the hour, Chris Tomlin.

“Where is Jenny? I'm looking out into the crowd….the lights are blinding and making me sweaty under this man-scarf, but still will search…”

And here is Mr. Giglio. If you haven't heard Louie G. speak, you really need to hunt the man down. In a nonassertive, sort of way. (And if you need some tips on hunting famous men down in nonassertive ways, I'm really not the girl to ask. But if you want tips for how to narrowly avoid a restraining order…)

Chris and Louie both had on skinny jeans. After this concert I feel pretty strongly in sharing this fashion advice. Gentlemen, if you are over 30, it's time to let go of tight jeans.  Leave the skinny jeans to the college kids. (I have to tell my dad this same thing allll the time.)

Louie brought a little girl on stage and talked to her for a bit. He said, “After the show we have something called meet and greet. Do you know what that is?” She just kinda stared at him. “Well,” he says. “It's where we get with people like you and meet, and…” He pauses and waits for her to finish his sentence. “Meet and…” Here's her answer.

Blank stare. And I was like, “Ew, me! Me! I know this one!”

On an unrelated note, I realized my teaching is missing one essential element.

A smoke machine. Could also really perk up our fire drills. And family reunions.

A highlight of the night for our whole group was when newcomer Audrey Assad took the stage and sang “Winter Snow.”

Have you heard it?

I love that song.

Here's the whole group.

Here's Audrey again. She's in a deep moment of prayer.

“Dear Lord, please let Jenny get to meet Chris Tomlin on his bus, er, I mean backstage at meet and greet. Even though that little girl got picked and she didn't. And that little girl has many years left to meet Christian singers after the show. And if she went to meet and greet she'd probably be up past her bedtime. And Jenny's bedtime isn't for another 30 minutes. . .Amen.”

So the concert is over. I am in my car. I'm about ten minutes down the road, and even though I had this weird feeling like, “Don't leave yet. Stay at the church like a creepy lurker,” I didn't. I left and kept driving.  And then I get a phone call. My friend Kim, who had been a chauffeur and gopher all day for Audrey and some of the folks on the tour, was on the other end of the line.

“Where are you?” she asks.

“Um…I'm about 10 minutes from home.”

“Well turn around. Mike (one of our pastors, bless his soul) has a Meet and Greet pass for you.”

“Get out. Are you serious?” (As I brake on the interstate.)

“Yes, can you make it?”

“Turning around right now.” In the median.

Just kidding. But I did shoot off the  next exit and turn Old Blackie (my car) back toward the church. Touched up my lipstick. Rolled my sleeve up so my “Chris Tomlin is The Best Thing Ever and I Would Fight to The Death Anyone Who Says Anything Different” tattoo on my arm was visible. And here we are.

Isn't that cute? Isn't it so cute how he's leaning AWAY from me. And check out the partially frightened look on his face. Oh, I know that look… Maybe he's worried about where my other hand is.  Also if you zoomed in REALLY close on my forehead you would see the red whelp where I ran into a clothes hanger right before the show. I don't really want to explain that one except to say there was a bathroom scale also involved.

But I digress. Let me recreate the moment of meeting for you–I want you to feel like you were there. He came up to us, and looked at me for a WHOLE milli-second. I stuck out my hand and said, “Hi, I'm Jennifer. I think I love you.” Or something like that. He glances at me…looks through me (and not in a hot way), and then moves between Kim and me for the picture. 1-2-3 “Click.” Picture over. I looked at him and said something intelligent like, “You did a great job tonight.  I really enjoyed it. You sure do sing pretty. Wow is that a man-scarf? I mean I'm not judging, and it's okay that you're wearing super tight pants too, but I don't know how you sing in all that, with the scarf and the pants, and all. Do you like puppies because I might be getting one in a few weeks, or not, because if you don't like them I don't have to get one.”  I think it came out more like, “We really enjoyed tonight and mumble mumble insert low talking here as he walks away…”   Yeah. The End.

Later, about midnight, Kim and I were texting our thoughts over the evening. We had both been analyzing the meet and greet. She said, “He didn't talk to us. We didn't have any products for him to sign like everyone else.”
And I said, “You're so right. That's it. Shoot.”
“But we didn't know we'd get to meet him,” Kim texts. “We needed some CDs.”
“Or your chest. . .you should've asked him to sign your chest.”
Kim didn't like that idea.
I don't know why not.
It's not like he could sign MY chest.
It would've clashed with my tattoo.

Have a great day. I'll see you back Wednesday for my final blog of the week.

JEN