A Fresh Breeze

Hello, Gorgeous!

Lately, I’ve had many days of driving across the state to Vanderbilt Medical.  Because it is a road I now know well, I try to occupy my mind with productive thoughts.  Years ago I developed a habit of scribbling notes in a notebook resting on the armrest beside my seat.  Because I scribble without looking, those notes are often a bit hard to decipher when I get that notebook to my computer, but the worthwhile thoughts usually come back when my memory is jogged by the scribbling.

Song lyrics are something I love to play with.  I’m limited when it comes to musical melodies, but I do enjoy putting words together.  When my children were small, I took well-known melodies and put personal words to them and sang them over and over and over again as my babies were falling asleep.  To a classical melody, for Abigail, I wrote…     “Abigail, Abigail, Abigail, my Boo…Stars are out, shining bright, sleep all through the night.                   Abigail, Abigail, Abigail my Boo, Bright moonbeams bring sweet dreams, All your dreams come true.”

For Clark, I used the melody of one of the oldest tunes known in the history of music.  “Londonderry Aire” dates to the 1400’s, but most of us know it as “Danny Boy.”  The earthy, evocative nature of the melody line can bring tears to many an eye.

     “Oh, Clark, my boy, the sandman, he is callin’… To close your eyes and rest the whole night through.  The day is done, the sun from sky has fallen…It’s time to rest until the mornin’ dew.

      So close your eyes and rest your head against me.  So close your eyes and sleep the whole night through.  For I’ll be here, throughout the night beside you.  Oh, Clark, my boy, my blue-eyed boy, I love you so.”

On a recent drive to Nashville, to face yet another medical test, I found myself remembering a moment from Abigail’s toddler years.  We had been driving for two hours in the stuffy car and finally arrived at the mountaintop above Gatlinburg.  As my husband lifted her out of the carseat and into his arms, she arched her body upward, lifting her head to catch the fresh breeze that lifted her curls and made her smile.  In my memory I can still picture her pulling upward, leaning into that breeze, letting it give her comfort and strength.  Thus…

A Fresh Breeze

Bent…Broken…Shrouded in pain…

No way out…No way up…No way through.

My feet were planted…My hands were fisted…I forged ahead on my own…

I had a plan…I planned a path…I could win…

Determination and strength would surely see me through…

Always clever, always sharp, always in charge…

But then I faltered…Then I stumbled…I fell flat on my face…

No way out…No way up…No way through.

 

Just a whisper in my heart…A fresh breeze on my face…I sensed a presence I could not define…

Just a whisper in my heart…A fresh breeze on my face…

Christ reached out…Christ stood me up…Christ saw me through.

 

It was not about my goodness…It was all about His Grace…

It was not about what I thought…It was only His Will…

I was never alone…I was not on my own…

He reached out…He lifted me up…He saw me through.

 

Just a whisper in my heart…A fresh breeze on my face…I sensed a presence I could not define…

Just a whisper in my heart…A fresh breeze on my face…

Christ reached out…Christ stood me up…Christ saw me through.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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2 comments on “A Fresh Breeze”

  • Hilda Andrews

    I know your book will be published. Everyone that knows you will purchase a copy. Most likely two or more.
    Sweet and precious memories living next door to you.Would love to take you out for lunch. I make it to Cleveland every 2-3 months. Let me know what would work best for you.
    Love ,
    Hilda