Monday Music #23

It’s hard to believe the last Monday Music I posted was on February 17,2020. Just before the world around me was totally reprogrammed.

“The Keep Going Song” by the Bengsons came out in October, 2020. It’s silly and profound at the same time. And much better than “This is the Song That Never Ends”!

And we are so lucky and blessed to be safely here
And we thought we’d be here for like ten days, tops!
{What did we know?} What did we know?
{What did we know?} What did we know?
We thought we knew a lot
We thought we knew a lot

Here we are, ten months, not ten days, after this song came out and it feels like we are back at square one.

And if your heart is breaking
I hope it’s breaking open

My heart was broken last year. And though it will never be the same, music helps to heal and soothe.

And I hope that you’ve watched a lot of
Really great television
Like, a lot of it!

I watch TV late at night. I plowed through several series this past year: Still Standing With Johnny Harris, Lost, Manifest, the Good Doctor.

I pray my pain is a river
That flows to the ocean
That connects my pain to yours
And I pray I pray my happiness is like pollen
That flies to you and pollinates your joy oh boy
Oh boy is that possible?
I don’t know I don’t know
We are making this up as we go

I’ve been able to connect my pain and my joy to other widows, most recently via Hope for Widows.

So, take a listen to this song – I hope it makes you smile.

More Covid Effects?

image via wild apricot

“Does anyone know of a church relatively close that does evening services? I’d love a Sunday night service but Saturday could work too. After Covid for the past year I’ve really loved our mornings at home on the weekend.” – posted on a neighborhood facebook page

This struck me as a very sad commentary on not just the effects of the “pandemic” but on our culture.

• The person asks about a church – no denomination as it didn’t seem to matter.

• The person is looking for a convenient service, something that wouldn’t interfere with Sunday mornings at home.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the opportunity to watch/semi-participate in church at home. When things starting shutting down last year, before we even knew about Chuck’s illness, we watched our church in St. Augustine from afar. When our children came to Birmingham we were able to share with them together in our living room. For a few of them it was the first sermon they’d probably heard in years. After Chuck died, there were a few Sundays I just couldn’t face people yet and I was grateful to hear His Word proclaimed via YouTube.

But, as soon as I was able I attended in person, even though it was at two new locations where I had to/am having to get to know a lot of new people. What a difference; what a blessing! Now I crave that fellowship with God and His people. I pray God does not let me slip back into habits of ease and mediocrity.

Sad Souls

The Avett Brothers

“A sad soul can kill you quicker, far quicker, than a germ” – from Travels With Charley by John Steinbeck, 1961

I wonder what Steinbeck would think today about all the sad souls hidden away in their homes, locked away from others in nursing homes, out of work because their job just wasn’t deemed as important as Hollywood. Sad souls living in fear.

If I say, ‘I will forget my complaint, I will put off my sad face and wear a smile,’ – Job 9:27

Hymns of Grace #2: Lord, we come before thee now

“Comfort those who weep and mourn; Let the time of joy return: Those that are cast down lift up, Strong in faith, in love and hope”

I am not familiar with this hymn, but it brought to mind not just those who mourn, but many who are cast down. Last week I delivered food to three people who have Covid-19. Two of these people, a couple, also have family members with numerous health issues. I am blessed right now with good health. I thank God he has kept me healthy and I pray for these loved ones that they, too, might be restored to good health.

“…Heal the sick, the captive free…”

Hankies

image via eBay

I thank God for my collection of hankies. Between sweat, tears, and an occasional speck of blood from a sneaky thorn, I go through two-three a day. I still think of Cathy who had an affinity for hankies just like I do.

I think the days are gone when a gentleman would offer his hanky to a lady. Now, in the days of COVID-19, some might be horrified to be offered a hanky. This wasn’t going to be a post about all the ridiculousness of this “pandemic” mess we are in, but, well, there it is. I am so OVER wearing a mask and feeling coerced because I don’t think the masks do a bit of good.

Back to the hankies. I love to find them in antique stores. But, again, with the “pandemic” I have no interest in going to an antique store. I don’t even enjoy going to the grocery store anymore. I’m about ready to rebel.

I think I better just stop here. Maybe one day I will wax poetic about hankies. Today isn’t that day.

Four boys born in the days of COVID-19

I know four little boys born within about a week of each other. Each one precious in the sight of the Lord. Each one with families who love them. It keeps reminding me that yes, life goes on.

First is Ryker, born to a young man, Jarrod, whom I have known since he was about nine months old.  He holds a special place in my heart. Jarrod has had a lot of ups and downs in his life, but he is now a wonderful father who is following Christ.

Next is Elijah. His daddy is also special to me because I got to know him as we went through the new members class at our church. Then he got married and is now a father of two. Elijah’s mommy, if she has her way, will be sure he grows up to be a Harry Potter fan. 🙂

Born the same day as Elijah, Henry is sorta related by marriage. Henry was born with a fairly severe birth defect and has already undergone one surgery with flying colors. I’ve known Henry’s daddy since he was a boy and he, too, has grown into a fine young man.

The last one is closest to my heart. My niece, Ella, had baby Wyatt at only 27 weeks. He weighed two pounds, 10 ounces. I love every picture I see and can’t wait to meet him.

I was cast upon You from birth.
From My mother’s womb
You have been My God. -Psalm 22:10

 

In this time of fear and uncertainty, we can be sure of one thing:

The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed,
A refuge in times of trouble. – Psalm 9:9

 

Getting Ready for April

 

In this upside down time there is still something I look forward to and that’s April. Because, for me, April means poetry.

This week has been so different from anything I’ve ever been through. My husband is now working from home. Bless his heart, he kisses me goodbye before he goes into his office and shuts the door.  Before all this COVID-19 hit we had already made the decision for an early retirement and to put our house on the market. So, this week I have been decluttering, packing, cleaning, and facetiming with the grandkids in Florida. We are going to go ahead with our preparations, trusting the LORD to move us or not according to His plans for us. If we don’t move, at least we’ll have a clean house and a pretty yard!

Back to April.

I think this will be my 11th year or so doing the PAD challenge via Writer’s Digest. I also hope to participate in the Poetry Super Highway April Poetry writing prompts. I feel like over the past years I’ve been motivated to write some of my better work during April. I’m one of those people who get mores things done when I have a lot to do. So, again this year, I should be able to crank out at least a few noteworthy poems. I enjoy the process and I enjoy the interaction with other poets.

So, today I played around with some black out poetry, using the book Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.

 

My Journey

worst comes to worst

I would rather hope in time

to improve the world

the sun shining between two prayers

born quick and slow

I say no more

 

The Sea

the sea

deep to the end of it

I looked to see truth

on every side

the sea with  a thick mist

I shivered

wondered

I waded in

by God’s grace

hope was the  more sure

in all ways

hope buoyed me up 

the sea

more alive

In I went into the sea

 

 

 

 

 

 

All the Feels

 

I wasn’t sure what to title this or how to start. Right now I am typing on my chromebook as I listen to a virtual concert on my laptop.  I have been a subscriber to Garden and Gun for a number of years. Today as I read their email I found out there was going to be a virtual concert live tonight. I was able to pass the word along to people I thought might be interested, and then I settled in to listen and I’m having a grand time!

http://luckreunion.com/tilfurthernotice

 

This whole COVID-19 thing has brought with it a lot of different emotions.

Joy in the way people have pulled together for the good of all – like this free concert. I did donate a little because I was grateful for the entertainment and generosity of the musicians.

Disgust in the way people have gone crazy hoarding toilet paper, and more importantly, meat and potatoes. What are they thinking?

Gratitude for all who have been kind and offered help to others. Including advice on how to schedule the kids at home and stuff like that.

4:00, wallow in self-pity. 4:30, stare into the abyss. 5:00, solve world hunger, tell no one. 5:30, jazzercize; 6:30, dinner with me. I can’t cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing. I’m booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness.” — The Grinch 

Community in the conversations I’ve had when I did venture out.  Like the woman in Aldi who was clearly trusting in Christ and we shared Bible verses with each other.  And the couple in Sprouts – the woman told her husband she was buying “Stress flowers” so I just started a conversation with them. Turns out they were from New Orleans and we agreed that this was worse than how people act when a hurricane is coming. Then there was the lady in the Dollar Tree who told me all about the psychic who predicted all this and then told me all about her bladder infection. I just listened and nodded until I could politely get away. I figured she’d been quarantined a bit and just need to talk.

Doubt about how all this has gone down. Something just doesn’t seem right.

Claude Lacombe:
Mr. Neary, what do you want?

Roy Neary:
I just want to know that it’s really happening.

From Close Encounters of the Third Kind