Summer, a Tuesday in June

 

IDK, but someone will discern as well as I or better, this old hymn surfacing this morning and persisting, allusive and elusive. Music does that now and then, stirs memories, hopes and dreams, and hangs on in the consciousness, distracting, disrupting. This hymn has not been in our hymnal for some forty years, in biblical language, a very long time:

By cool Siloam's shady rill

How fair the lily grows;

How sweet the breath, beneath the hill,

Of Sharon's dewy rose.

Lo! such the child, whose early feet

The paths of peace have trod,

Whose secret heart, with influence sweet

Is upward drawn to God.

By cool Siloam's shady rill

The lily must decay;

The rose that blooms beneath the hill,

Must shortly fade away.

And soon, too soon, the wintry hour

Of man's maturer age

Will shake the soul with sorrow's power

And stormy passions rage.

O, thou, who givest life and breath,

We seek thy grace alone.

In childhood, manhood, age and death,

To keep us still thine own. 

In heart, mind and prayer this morning, dear friends far away who yesterday lost a beloved grandchild in an automobile accident. Heartbreak, tragedy, a loss of incomprehensible magnitude. Our own happiness comes in the lives of those we love. Kyrie, eleison. God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, breathe divine presence, love and comfort into the midst of them. Better than I can pray, from our Book of Common Prayer,

Most merciful God, whose grace is beyond our 
understanding: Deal graciously with them in their grief. 
Surround them with your love, that they may not be 
overwhelmed by their loss, but have confidence in your 
goodness, and strength to meet the days to come; through 
Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Rain here, fog with it, a heavy, bright and noisy electrical storm passed through with Tuesday's dawn. We've lived many places, unknowingly 7H the best for last: of everywhere we've been, watching the storms is tops from here. Including, we see a lot of heavy weather out over the Gulf of Mexico that doesn't come ashore - - a metaphor for life itself.

KeXeKe

T

another song: I'll meet you in the morning

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EW3jJpac1Sk