Then They Do

This song has been on my mind a lot the last few days. Listen through one time, and you will understand why. Now for me, I was never in a hurry to get my son's childhood over. In fact, quite the opposite was true. I wanted to savor and cherish every minute. But other than that, this song is perfect for the way I have been feeling lately.

I love it! I love words, the melody, the instruments; and the singer! I love the sentiment! And I simply thought I would share it today.

Enjoy! Then They Do! That's how it is...






You want all the dreams they dreamed of to come true...

 

then they do...

The Barber Pole

I sat in the front seat of my car with the engine running. I was deep in my thoughts. Mama sat in the back. I stared straight ahead, watching the red, white and blue spiral up and down.                     

"I wonder why they ever thought of making a barber pole like that?" she commented.  

My first inclination was to respond, "It was most likely the Brits." But I really didn't know and I don't know why that idea came to my mind either. I only responded, "I don't know," and I went back to my reflections. It has always been hard for me to communicate when I am not feeling well, or I am tired. And I have been tired for awhile, now. I didn't want to talk.

Poor Mama. She had wanted to come along, but I didn't really want her to. I didn't have much time, and my leg was sore enough, I thought perhaps I had made a mistake in coming. I knew I didn't have the strength to walk with her, and help her in and out of the car.  But I couldn't tell her that. So she came and I helped in spite of the pain. Been doing that awhile now, too.

We were waiting for dad outside the barber while he got his hair cut. He hadn't had luck getting it done at their new retirement community.  And when I had come that afternoon to take care of a few things for them, it was the first thing he had told me. "They won't cut my hair!"

I didn't know why. I assumed maybe it was the wrong day, or hour. Maybe he had trouble finding the salon. I didn't know and I didn't ask. I just responded: "I will take you up to the barber where I used to take Mr. B. when we were neighbors."

That delighted Dad. Mama wanted to come along for the ride. So we were off on another errand that I was secretly hoping wouldn't turn into an ordeal that would take longer than necessary. I had hoped to find out if I could do this after my recent surgery, but I soon found out I wasn't ready.

As I sat there with my mom, I really wasn't able to talk. I was reflecting. I was remembering all the times I would bring my elderly neighbor up to this same shop, when he could no longer drive. My memories are all fond of this wonderful old man and his wife, but my reflections today were not. There had been more than one time, that I had revisited this same memory. Mr. B. standing on his front porch, as I had tried to explain.

 

"Mr. B. I just can't drop everything and run you when you want to go. I am trying to home school Matthew and it interrupts our day."

"But I HAVE to get my hair cut," was his forlorn response. And I knew then and there, my efforts to explain were all in vain. I was saddened, I was frustrated. I was defeated. So, I simply took him to the barber.  I never, ever forgot his need in that moment. I can still see him standing there, trying to reason with me.

To this day, I hope he didn't sense my frustration, or anger, or whatever it was that might have been bubbling underneath. I have reviewed it many times over the 15 years or whatever it has been. Over and over, I have given myself an "F" and vowed to never let anything like that happen again.

So here I was now - right outside the same barber shop with the same lousy attitude. All those memories couldn't help but flood my tired mind and body. It was only day 7, after all, of a major surgery I had just had. Part of me was telling myself, "I shouldn't have to do this yet!"

"You have just been ran over by a truck!" The doctor had told me. "Quit expecting so much! This is only day 2!"

Yeah, I get that! I feel that! That part is easy to understand. What isn't easy is to say no, when an elderly has a need. It is different than when you or I have a need. I am not going to explain that. It is simply different. "I will never, ever forget his need in that moment!"

And so here we are. Same barber, same need, same grade. "F" for not being more gracious with my mama. She only wanted to go for a ride.

I saw Dad come out of the shop with a smile on his face. "How did it go?" I asked trying to include some cheer in my tone.

"Good!"

"Did you like him?"

"Yes, he did a good job and I am glad to know this is here."

"Yes, little by little you are learning where things are. And what is nice is the barber, the bank, and the store are all on the same street that you live on! That will make it easy."

"Oh, boy! Thank you so much, Jan."

 

Daddy was happy and his hair looked good. Mama was still sighing in the backseat, probably sorry she came. Ok. I will give myself a "C" for Daddy. I still need to get that attitude in check.

Thank you, Mr. B. for showing me the importance of a barber and where to find one. I really wish I could do it all again for you, you know. Still looking for that "A". Not so much because I need it, but because you do; and all of those like you.

Offering Up the Whole

Years ago - the 1970's, I believe -  there was a poet named Rod McKuen. He was a "modern-day" poet.  A bit of the "60's revolution, by all counts. I read his stuff at the time. I can't say I liked all of it, but I liked poetry, and back then, he was "trending" as they would say today. They didn't use that term, however. He was a bit cynical and a tad depressing, and if I remember correctly - a whole lot "distrusting". He was surely a part of the counter culture that was occurring at that time.  I don't even know if he is still alive today. I guess I could check that out easily enough, and maybe I will at some point.

I hate to admit it, but lately, one of his poems keeps coming back to me invading my thoughts and trying to stir up agitation or something similar; not even sure what. It isn't the whole poem I remember, but rather only a line or two. I decided to try to see if I could find the poem. The line was almost haunting me.  I found it is from his poem called The Leaving. And I do NOT recommend it. It's depressing, cynical, and I suppose full of distrust. (see above) But I will say this, there is much of the poem that will cause one to think; to really think about what the author is saying and then ponder ones agreement or disagreement. For example:

I do not dangle

at the dawning

on a strand of sunlight,

nor do I perch on

paragraphs of prayers.

Beautiful alliteration, which was popular at the time. But what in the world does that mean? I do not want to perch on the paragraphs of prayers. I want to shelter under His wing.

All men have lessons

they can give you

even in rejection.

And the least that you can offer any man

is your good arm or shoulder.

Agreed. And I would even say "especially in rejection" there are lessons to learn. But that good arm or shoulder is rather rare in either case. Moreover, prayers would be better in accompaniment with that good shoulder.

The small times count.

The inches not the miles.

Touches not tradition

will fill your memory

in the morning or the end.

Oh I don't know about that. Truly, it is the small times that count...and maybe it is the inches over the miles. I really don't know. The inch is sometimes the only thing that gets us where we are going. But in the end we only count the miles.  Touches over tradition? I don't know about that either. Touches are most often remembered because of tradition.

The older one gets, everything all kind of just gets muddled together, and repetition is what helps in remembering. Traditions are extremely important, in my view.

There is something to be said about a kind, gentle touch, however. It is actually rather rare.

But the line that keeps coming back to me of late (probably because I had to do a high school or college paper on it at the time) is this one:

There will be

times when many

will want pieces of you

but only offer up the whole.

Side note before I continue: I do understand why a college or high school literature class might use this author. He was, after all, "trending". And unfortunately, his views were the way our schools were going at the time. Secular. Counter-culture. He was a good poet. He was creative and his poems induced thought. He used all the proper (and some improper) methods from which to teach a literature class. Whatever. At least one line of the poem certainly stuck with me for all these decades.

"Only offer up the whole." "Many will want pieces of you." This denotes being used, doesn't it? Or maybe just being put up with, but never really accepted. Picked apart, piece by piece.

When one says, "I like this about you, but I will certainly not be a part of that." that is ok. We will never agree with anyone 100% on anything. Everyone has things that need to be worked out, or worked through. We should never support someone in their wrong doing. But do we walk away with our nose in the air, or even worse with a clothes pin on our nose because of the perceived (or even real) stench? Do we even bother to find the truth?

So why is this line going through my mind over and over these days? I don't know. Do I feel used? No, I don't. Do I feel disliked? Often, I do. Do I feel ridiculed and unfairly maligned? Sometimes. Do I feel accepted? Rarely. Now before you think me despondent, or depressed, the Bible warns us that we won't be accepted. We are aliens in a strange land. So whether I am accepted or not, doesn't really bother me. It does make me wonder however, when I am made to feel that way by other Christians. Or even more, when I see a brother or sister in Christ treated unfairly by those who are supposed to be "family".

What I do know, is more and more often, I only feel like "offering up the whole". What would Jesus say about that? I am not talking about the whole of what we once were, but offering up everything God has intended for us to become. Offering up exactly what He would have us do in our lives (according to His will) - whether anyone else agrees or not.

In this context, we can read Scripture and get a pretty good idea of what is expected of us. But then, in the end, we would probably only argue about it. (Now, I am the one sounding cynical...maybe just a tad.)

What we know in reality, though, is Jesus offered up the Whole. That is something worth emulating. Piece by piece, He offered it all.

Personally, that is what I believe this poet was searching...we would do well to help others find that not only in their unbelief, but also in their ever-growing belief and trust they, themselves, know who God has created them to be and inspired them to do what they are to do.

So bring on the criticism; I will learn from the rejection. In the end, I suppose I will count both the miles and the inches. I have learned not to expect that "good arm or shoulder".  And I will take the poet's advice on at least one count; I am only offering up the whole.

 

 

This Ain't About Fishin'

I needed a little escape to real life this morning. I'm glad I came across this video. Keeping it with my collection of favorite songs. One of my favorites from Trace Adkins.