An Evening at McCrite

 

We had an interesting evening with the Butlers the other night here at McCrite. We have lunch with the Butlers most days so we knew a bit about our backgrounds.  Terry, Lowell and I were invited to their apartment to share hymnals and hymns from our two denominations..  "Pete" and Jo Ann are retired professors from Midwestern Baptist Seminary were they both taught in the music department.  

JoAnn taught vocal music while Pete taught hymnology.  She had written several books on children's music and several children's hymns.  Peter had written over 50 hymns including "Redeemed" a popular Baptist hymn world-wide (a Fanny Crosby hymn for which Pete wrote the music).  They also had donated their enormous hymnal collection to the Seminary. Here's more about the collection and the Butlers: https://www.mbts.edu/article/the-butler-collection/

While I haven't sung in a choir for a long time, I do write poetry which Lowell sets to music.  So, we shared that.  Terry, Lowell's brother, helped us better understand the theology and history of the Reorgaanized Church of Latter Day Saints (Community of Christ).  Terry and Lowell brought hymnals from their church and I brought "Glory Be to God" our Presyberian hymnal.

But, the stars were the Butlers who showed us several interesting hymnals they still had in their apartment.  We shared favorite hymns and looked to see if they were in the Baptist, Presbyterian and RLDS hymnals. We also shared favorite stories about those hymns.  The evening ended with Lowell sharing recordings of him singing spirituals and  our songs.  

We had a great time and hope to repeat it again.

Grow with Change

Photo by Javier Allegue Barros on Unsplash

As Summer drifts into Fall, I’m ready to move on from the blistering heat of Summer.  I am looking forward to the turning of the leaves, the cooler temperatures, apple cider, everything spice flavored —-OK maybe not the  Pumpkin Spice Toilet Paper you can get on Amazon. 

Transitions can be hard—-whether it’s the seasons, or our lives.  We don’t know what to expect—-some days are beautiful with 70 degrees and some are still brutaly hot.

Many of us are also going through transitions in our lives with the passing of a bridge partner, living without a spouse, losing our independence, moving from our home of 50 years.  Even changing our cleaning schedule can be hard.

Fred Rogers famously noted, “Transitions are almost always signs of growth, but they can bring feelings of loss. To get somewhere new, we may have to leave somewhere else behind.”

He also offers hope, “Often when you think you’re at the end of something, you’re at the beginning of something else.” 

Feel that loss on one hand, but on the other hand, try new foods, sit at a different table, meet new friends, take a painting class, read a new author.  

Grow!

 

 

The Pinball Machine

Sometime my brain is like

a pin ball machine

Darting from ding to ding.

That’s the point

Get as much done as quickly as possible.

Ding-ding-ding-ding

Type a poem, while eating breakfast,

Still thinking of protein powder on Amazon,

wondering how the grands are doing in college.

Am I packing enough underwear for my trip?

And of course remembering to wish my Love

Good Morning, 

Zing-zing-zing

Ding-ding-ding

But, by the end of the day, I’m exhausted

physically and mentally—-every ounce of ideas and energy,

wrung out—-

wanting nothing more than a quiet night

holding hands with my Love.

At night, if I see a movie or meet friends for Bunco:

it’s like putting in another coin for another round of pin ball.

But,  I’m slow to hit

the buttons to complete a task.

The dings are slower—softer less inviting.

I drag myself to bed: body seeking rest.

But, as I lay down, my brain is still flipping that damn ball:

ideas zinging around the recesses of my brain:

Hour       after      hour. 

Later, with my 10th trip to the toilet,

body weak from fatigue,

I finally slip into fitful sleep.

Not restful sleep, not recharging sleep—-

no REM, or deep sleep.

Like a pinball zombie, i awake in the moring , dragging my feet,

Fixing breakfast, needing my walker,

The zing has zonged and the ding has donged.