Ragamuffin Gospel

Beginnings and Endings

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“The underlying premise of this book: the splendor of a human heart which trusts that it is loved gives God more pleasure than Westminster Cathedral, the Sistine Chapel, Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, the sight of ten thousand butterflies in flight, or the scent of a million orchids in bloom.” (Brennan Manning).

I’m always a little sad at endings. Today was the end of my vacation, and while I know it can’t go on forever (or I’d be broke and fat) I still get a little sad knowing that the experience is coming to and end.

Still, I have some good memories (and a few good photos) to cherish from the past five days. Plus, I got some really snazzy hiking boots.

Every day you get to be alive in has a beginning and an ending. No matter how good or bad or indifferent the day is, it still only lasts 24 hours. While some days seem longer, they’re really not.

Every day you get to be alive is another opportunity to choose. You can choose to be grateful for what you have or envious over what you don’t. You can choose to give thanks or grumble. You can choose to serve the Lord or chase after the latest tin god that’s fashionable for a season. As Bob Dylan said, “Everybody’s gotta serve somebody.”

So, tomorrow is Tuesday. Hopefully, fall weather is on its way.

And as a reminder, once you understand that you are the beloved of your Heavenly Father and start living out of that, every day gets better. Not perfect, but better.

 

An Update on Peanut

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It’s been almost 3 months since I was rescued by this little furball at the Williamson County Animal Shelter. I’ve told the story about how I had a completely different cat in the carrier, ready to take home, when Peanut stuck her little paw out of the cage and gave a little piteous mew that said, “Take me instead, please!”

I did, and the rest so far is history.

She typifies the loving and affectionate nature of just about any rescue. She shows her gratitude for being taken out of that solitary little cage every chance she gets. Add that to the fact that she is 100% kitten and what you end up with is sometimes completely hilarious and always a lot of fun.

She’s quite literally growing on me. She’s more than doubled in size since I first brought her home back in June. Maybe that explains why she will eat just about anything in sight (including dog biscuits).

She can never take the place of my beloved Lucy, whom I still miss dearly. She’s her own person with very unique traits and characteristics. She has helped my heart to heal by providing another outlet for the love to flow.

I do recommend that if you’ve lost a beloved pet, go to a shelter and find a cat or dog to rescue. You could pay a lot of money to a breeder for a specialized pet, but I personally think you’ll never regret saving the life of an animal that might otherwise be euthanized.

This whole Lucy to Peanut transition has taught me that while life never quite goes according to expectation, it somehow always turns out better. God really does work all things together for good to those who love Him. That’s not just a quaint saying that you can cross stitch and stick on your refrigerator (to borrow a Mike Glenn saying) but an every day reality.

Don’t ever take anyone in your life for granted at any time. Ever. Not people. Not pets. Always let them know how much they mean to you and always make time for them because you never know when they won’t be around any more.

God is good. Life is great. I am still blessed.

Happy Monday

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“Success is to wake up each morning and consciously decide that today will be the best day of your life” (Ken Poirot).

I still think Monday is a rude way to start the week. It feels like being sucker punched in the face every time. After the calm that is Sunday, Monday comes in and seriously disturbs my calm.

Still, I’m thankful for Mondays.

Mondays remind me that I’m still here and that I still have a purpose.

Mondays make me thankful for Fridays and the weekend.

Mondays are another day to discover that God is still good and that I am still blessed.

Mondays, as insanely crazy as they may feel sometimes, are still only 24 hours long– the same as every other day– and all Mondays eventually come to an end. I promise.

Currently, Mondays are good because Monday is when I get my overdose of nature when I go hiking through Radnor Lake State Park. I still say getting outdoors and exercising is one of the best and most underutilized antidepressants.

As my old boss used to say, any day without a toe tag is a good day. Even Mondays.

 

Vintage Love

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Today, I went into a retro store called Pre to Post Modern and picked up a 1965 Admiral transistor clock radio. I was drawn to it in the first place because it looks like something out of a Mad Men episode.

The older I get, the more I’m drawn to all things retro and vintage. I’m all about old movies, old music, old books . . . if it’s old, I’m probably a fan. Maybe it’s because I’m “vintage” myself. I also happen to drive a very vintage 1997 Jeep Cherokee that is still very much styling.

I think I’m drawn to vintage because they have survived the ravages of time and are still around. Like me. Like my Jeep.

I also think that I’m a fan of vintage values, like honoring your commitments and staying true to your word, even when it costs you something. I’m a fan of good manners and good grammar, two things that are rapidly becoming extinct in the age of social media and instant gratification.

I think I’m drawn to vintage and retro because it connects me with people I’ve loved who are gone. It takes me back to a simpler (and in many ways better) time when the pace of life was slower and people seemed to be more content and not in such a hurry.

I also have my grandfather’s old tube radio that used to sit in his garage. He listened to it when he was tinkering with projects or just puttering around. I love the fact that while it may have some wear and tear on it, it’s something that he held in his hands and that brought him joy. That makes my heart happy.

I can’t imagine too much of today’s technology still being around 50 years from now. Everything’s disposable and obsolete within one or two years. Does that make me sound like an old fart?

 

99 Days Left Until Christmas

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There are 99 days, 0 hours, 31 minutes, and 47 seconds left until Christmas, as of a few seconds ago. That means that there are 106 days left in 2017. Time’s a-flyin’.

I’d settle for that fall weather to make a comeback. Today was not a friend to my sweat glands, which seem to work overtime when the weather gets hot and sticky. Also, it seems wrong to have 85 degree heat and pumpkin spice at the same time.

But I’m already looking forward to the season of dusting off my astounding Christmas movie and music collection and revisiting all my old favorites. I’m anticipating my first cup of cheg nog (which is chai + egg nog for the uninformed).

As always, I’m still on the hunt for the ultimate tacky Christmas sweater, so if you see one that makes sounds or lights up, let me know.

In the mean time, I’ll be the one sitting in the shade with my iced beverage, trying not to sweat to death.

PS The countdown is down to 99 days, 0 hours, 24 minutes, and 44 seconds in the time it took me to write all this.

Starbucks Beverages and Cuddly Kittens

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I had my first salted caramel mocha frappuccino at Starbucks today after work. Actually, it was an unsalted caramel mocha frappuccino since they ran out of salt. How do you manage to run out of salt? How many more times can I come up with variations on the word salt?

The beverage was glorious. The only improvement that could have made the experience perfect was if the weather was about 10 degrees cooler. But I’m weird like that. I like a little chill in the air to awaken and invigorate my senses. Everything smells better in cooler weather.

Right now, I am in bed and there’s a little torti kitten burrowed under the covers. My old cat Lucy hated to be covered up but Peanut seems to prefer it. It’s funny how different they are yet at the same time they have much in common.

My favorite part is knowing when I go to sleep tonight I can turn off the alarm and not have to wake up at that ungodly hour of 5 am. I still think it should be illegal to wake up before the sun’s out.

Oh, and I always like to have my ceiling fan on when I’m sleeping. Even in the dead of winter. Is that weird?

 

 

Old Movies

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I revisited another old classic movie. This time it was Woman of the Year with Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. I believe it was their first collaboration and the beginning of a lifelong romance between the two in real life.

I can’t entirely explain it, but there’s something special about these old movies set in a bygone era. In some ways, I prefer the old to the new. I think what we’ve gained in terms of technology and communications we’ve lost in terms of interpersonal relationships, ethics, morality, and general quality of life.

I’ve said it before (more than once), but if I could only have one channel for the rest of my life, I think I’d go with Turner Classic Movies. It’s the next best thing to having an actual time machine like the one Rod Taylor used in that H. G. Wells adaptation. I do think I’d like to step into one of those movie sets from the 40’s or 50’s and live there.

I’m definitely not one to say that everything new is crap and everything old is perfect, but I do think movies were much better when the emphasis was more on character and story and less on CGI and blowing stuff up. I like new movies when they are character-driven, usually smaller budget films that qualify more as art films than blockbusters.

I understand that those old movies often created an illusion of the ideal rather than represent the reality, but it’s an illusion I’d escape to any day. I don’t need reality TV because I get enough reality from Nashville traffic and the occasional headlines from the internet.

Everyone needs some black and white cinema in their lives. Everyone needs to experience the classics like Casablanca and To Kill a Mockingbird. Check out TCM from time to time. You won’t regret it.

Closer to Fall

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“At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds. Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost” (Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters on Cezanne).

I get seriously annoyed with people who actually enjoy summer days when it’s over 90 degrees and the humidity is like walking into a sauna. With cooler weather, you can always add more layers. With hot, you can only take off so much before it becomes illegal (not to mention immoral).

According to my timeline, fall starts in 9 days, but the current weather has felt very autumn-esque. The last two days have been drizzly, grey, and a tad on the colder side. That kind of weather activates cravings in me for all things pumpkin spice, caramel apple cider, bonfires, hayrides and (best of all) flannel.

I look forward to the day when I can realistically wear flannel and not sweat to death. I believe there will be flannel in heaven– maybe those robes we wear will have flannel lining. Flannel is like a hug that you get to wear all day long.

Anyway, this being Tennessee, I’m almost certain there will be some kind of resurgence in hotter weather, with the politically incorrect name for that being Indian Summer. Then hopefully, fall will come back for real and stay a while and bring some color to the leaves.

“Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love – that makes life and nature harmonise. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground, that one’s very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air, while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns” (Letter to Miss Eliot, Oct. 1, 1841, George Eliot).

A Good End to the Day

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“And I will not remember
That I even felt the pain.
We shall walk and talk
In gardens all misty and wet with rain
And I will never, never, never
Grow so old again” (Van Morrison, Sweet Thing).

I’m currently tucked into my bed with a purring feline burrowed under the covers and hanging out near my feet. I never said she was a normal feline, but she’s fun to have around and can at times be extremely cuddly and affectionate. I believe with all my heart that rescues are the best kind of pets to have, as they are the most grateful animals.

It was a grey drizzly kind of day all day. We never got the gallons of rain forecasted from the remnants of Hurricane Irma. It was more of a soft misty kind of rain that made me long for a fireplace and a hot cup of tea.

I had Astral Weeks by Van Morrison playing in the car on the way home from my obligatory stop Chick-fil-A after Kairos. It seemed like the perfect music for unwinding at the end of the day. And I had chicken noodle soup and no, I wasn’t sick. I chose it because it fit the rainy day perfectly.

It may only be Tuesday, but so far this week’s shaping up to be another good one. Hopefully, the sun will come out sooner than later, but I woke up again this morning, so I’m not going to complain too much about a little rain.

 

 

Sixteen Years Later

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Scott Willens, who joined the United States Army three days after the terrorist attacks on 9/11, pauses while reflecting by the South Pool on friends he has lost while on deployment during anniversary ceremonies at the site of the World Trade Center on 11 September 2012 in New York, New York, USA. POOL/Justin Lane/EPA

I will forever remember where I was and what I was doing on September 11, 2001. It’s etched in my memory the way that November 22, 1963 is for the older generations or even December 7, 1941 for those few who are still alive to recall the day that will live in infamy.

I had just walked into the office of my job in the Recreation Outreach Center at Germantown Baptist Church. My boss called me into his office and pointed me to the television displaying the aftermath of the first plane having flown into one of the World Trade Center buildings.

Neither one of us knew what was happening yet. Most at that time thought it was a freak accident. It wasn’t until the second plane struck the other WTC building that it became clear that it was very much a deliberate terrorist attack on American soil.

After all the smoke and debris cleared, just shy of 3,000 people had lost their lives. As monumentally horrific as that was, it could have been so much worse. Most of the people who worked in those buildings hadn’t made it into work yet, and many were led from the second building to safety before the second plane hit.

In many ways, you can almost use it as a historical marker. You can point to life before 9/11 and life since then. Air travel has drastically changed in the sixteen years since.

Maybe one good thing to come out of the tragedy is that we can’t take freedom and liberty for granted anymore. It’s not a given that everyone is a fan of democracy and there’s no guarantee that what we have will last forever.

It’s just one more reminder that, aside from death and taxes, the only true constant in this life is God. Every day you get with your loved ones is a gift and a blessing not ever to be taken for granted.

Sixteen years later, we still remember.