words by St. Francis of Assisi – “Thou burning sun with golden beam, Thou silver moon with softer gleam”
I had a very special aunt – Great Aunt Marie, and I am named after her. She lived in the Baptist Village in Waycross, GA, in her later years. I have several hymn books in the house, and one used to belong to her. The front page is stamped Waycross Primitive Baptist Church. I’ve decided to start going through them, singing the ones I know, reading the ones I don’t. Today it was All Creatures of Our God and King.
There are numerous versions of this song out there, but this one is my current favorite.
I never heard this song before today, but let me tell you how I found it.
If you knew Chuck, you know he loved baseball. A few years ago we traveled to Douglas Georgia for a reunion of a group of guys who played baseball together at South Georgia Junior College, now South Georgia State College. It was great fun and I finally got to put a face to a name for so many I’d heard about over the years. This group has a Facebook page and when they learned of Chuck’s illness they posted so many encouraging words and I knew many were praying for us. Just eight days after Chuck died, another from this group of friends, Tim Snipes, also died of pancreatic cancer. I’d heard his name but didn’t recall meeting him. I immediately reached out to his wife Libby and today I got a response – she had just seen my message. So, as we are now Facebook “friends” I looked at her page and that is where I found this song.
And just today another brother in Christ, Ed Wallen, went home to be with the LORD. So much death in a short time, and now so many widows left behind. I’m beginning to realize how there are some things you just can’t know, can’t empathize with, until you have experienced it. May God forgive me of my past lack of care and make me more aware of others and their burdens.
I’ve gone back to listening to some of my old CDs while driving. Listening to Carole King I find memories stirred and songs that seem to have a whole new meaning now. Like “Now and Forever”.
Now and forever you are a part of me And the memory cuts like a knife
Now and forever I’ll remember all the promises still unbroken
‘Til death do us part is one promise that is still unbroken. We kept that promise.
And think about all the words between us That never needed to be spoken
I’ve thought about those last days and how we often sat not saying a word. Sometimes I’ve longed for memories of some long, final conversation. But then I realize there was no need. Talking was what drew us together – we could sit and talk for hours when we were dating. Years later we would sometimes find ourselves lying in bed in the wee hours of the morning having long serious discussions. Sometimes he would just talk and I’d drift off to sleep. And he never minded that I did.
We are the lucky ones Some people never get to do All we got to do
On a shelf I found a National Geographic from November, 1967. That’s the month I turned nine. I remember three things specifically from the year I was nine.
I was in fourth grade and my teacher, Miss Schnupp, I do believe was six feet tall and she seemed to enjoy embarrassing her students. She did this to me and I still remember the embarrassment I felt at being teased about liking a boy just because I talked to him a lot in class. I mean, he sat behind me, so I talked to him. His name was Perry and he had red hair and lots of freckles.
It was also the year I first found out about sex. Seems like everyone knew what that word on the bathroom wall meant except me.
Lastly, it was the year of long division. For me, it was VERY long division. Sloppy writing had me lining up my numbers wrong and then I’d have to start all over.
This National Geographic issue had an article on Buenos Aires, Argentina. Now, I know when I was nine I’d never heard of Argentina, much less dreamed that I’d grow up and have a daughter who lived there for awhile. She loved it!
I just skimmed the article, but I came across a funny conversation with a man who was describing the parking situation.
“You find a place that’s maybe too short for your car, ” Señor Medus explained, “so you just push the line of cars in front with your bumper, and the line of cars behind, until you can jokey your way in. Nobody sets brakes; to do that and walk away leaving your automobile locked is , well, unsportsmanlike. Of course, you want to avoid parking a car at the spot nearest the corner. You might come back from your errand to find to find that your car has been pushed out into the intersection and hauled away by the police.”
All of this reminded me of an episode from Seinfield.
I haven’t done a Monday Music in a longtime. Today I discovered some great music and wanted to share it. This group, Cobalt Strings, is a super talented trio of women. Not only that, I discovered them via Amber who is also a very enthusiastic Braves fan!! I love that they all live in Georgia and I hope I can hear them in person someday. Take a listen.
In the introduction of Here is New York (originally published in 1949) by E.B. White, Roger Angell, White’s stepson, describes television as, “the biggest altering force of our century”. This was in 1999. I’d say now it’s internet and smartphones.
In the 1950s, TV was considered a form of family entertainment. Today it seems rare for families to sit down watch a show or movie together.
Studies have been made that link childhood obesity and attention disorders to “screen” viewing. This includes television, ipads, game systems, and especially smartphones. Smartphones — now that’s an oxymoron.
There is much debate about the issue of violence on the screen and its influence on viewers, but my opinion is that it numbs the viewer to reality.
As a substitute in high schools I see the downside of the smartphone. I watch students sitting side by side, faces glued to their screen. When they do converse with a classmate, it so often is just to share and laugh at something on their phone, I am not saying all this in innocence. My smartphone has dumbed me down, my computer has wasted so many hours. I take that back – I have done this to myself.
Please turn it off, I’m tired Of bang bang bang shoot ’em up movies — Bang Bang by The Avett Brothers
Today is The Avett Brothers concert in Pelham, Alabama. As hard as it is to listen to sometimes, I sure hope they play No Hard Feelings.
“Why does it seem so often to be a human quality to forget those who have done good things for us, and to remember those who have hurt us?” – from Sold Into Egypt by Madeleine L’Engle.
“Even as a tiny girl, she would just absorb the meanness of people around her, and as that strange girl slapped her, Margaret literally turned the other cheek. ‘I just took it,’ she said sixty years later. ” – from Ava’s Man by Rick Bragg
In anticipation of The Avett Brothers concert on October 25th, I’ve been posting a series connecting some of their lyrics to words of some of my favorite authors.
“Ah wants things sweet wid mah marriage lak when you sit under a pear tree and think…”
– Janie, from Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
“…what they had discovered in those years was not the love people whisper about over candles, but the kind they need when their baby girl is coughing at three 0’clock in the morning.” -from Ava’s Man by Rick Bragg
“It’s a habit of mine,” said Jim Wade wistfully, “daydreaming in other seasons…” from Quite a Year for Plums by Bailey White
In September I was daydreaming of fall. All year I’ve been daydreaming of the near (I wish) future when we might be able to return to Florida. But I realize that kind of dreaming isn’t always helpful or productive. Sometimes too much looking into the future blinds me to the present.
And from November Blue
And if I weren’t leavin’, Would I catch you dreamin’ …
And if I came to you tomorrow, And said “let’s run away” Would you roll like the wind does… (YES)
And I sing songs of sorrow, Because you’re not around… (TRUE)
Not In This Soup Alone 