BS: Love's the Only House

Subject: BS: Love's the Only House
From: wysiwyg
Date: 12 Sep 07 - 09:31 PM

Well, I've stayed off the soabox for a good long while, but....

*Soapbox Alert*

This afternoon I was zooming along from one [ministry] event to the next in a busy day, in my van full of all the "tools of the trade." The country station (the station that comes in clearest out here) was blaring Martina McBride. It reminded me of a great sermon my husband preached once.

Keeping this soapbox STRICTLY SECULAR, here's the lyric:

========

LOVE'S THE ONLY HOUSE
as sung by Martina McBride

1. I was standing in the grocery store line
The one they marked express
When this woman came though with about 25 things
And I said don't you know that more is less
She said this world is moving so fast
I just get more behind everyday
And every mornin' when I make my coffee
I can't believe my life's turned out this way
All I could say was...

Chorus:
Love's the only house big enough for all the pain in the world
Love's the only house big enough for all the pain

2. He was walking by the other day and I said
Hey baby...how you been?
Yeah, I got me a little girl now and she's 4 years old
And she's got her daddy's little grin
You only wanted what you can't have
And baby you can't have me now
I gave my heart to another
Yeah I'm a mother
And he's a father and we're a family and we got each other
And I found out the hard way that...

Repeat Chorus

3. You drive three miles from all this prosperity
Down across the river and you see a ghetto there
An' We got children walking around with guns
And they got knives and drugs and pain to spare
And here I am in my clean, white shirt,
With a little money in my pocket and a nice warm home
And we got teenagers walking around in a culture of darkness
Living together alone...all I could say is...

Repeat Chorus

Bridge:
And I can't explain it, and I can't understand
But I'll come down and get my hands dirty and together we'll make a stand...

4. Somewhere 'cross the parking lot, some bands playin' out of tune
City streets are gonna burn if we don't do something soon
Senorita can't quit crying, baby's due now any day
Don Juan left, got sick of trying...no one there to show him the way
She came down to the grocery store and
She said I, I wanna buy a little carton of milk, but I don't have any money
I said Hey I'll cover you honey, cause the pain's gotta go somewhere
Yeah the pain's gotta go someplace...
So come on down to my house
Don't ya know that...

Repeat Chorus

SH
@country

======

"Yeah," I thought; "she's right." And on I went with my day. In all, I sorted out a chairbound lady's exercise program and neutralized her complaints about her "horrible" husbnad-- my good friend whose care of her she has "forgotten." I taught her homecare aide how to do them and how to easily motivate her. I worked with two other ladies on excercise (aquatics) and did some email-encouraging of the one whose meds got outta whack (and she couldn't make herself come to the pool lately). I absorbed about a ton of unscheduled, unexpected upset from a young lady whose journey toward ordination is hitting the inevitable bumps along the way, and provided smart background and creative options to her priest/sponsor for their Friday meeting with the Bish (who I also will see and "speak with" tomorrow). I briefed my husband on all THAT. I made nice to the new waitress at the town's fave restaurant, on it's millionth new owner and all the waitstaff scared they'll fail, and trying SO HARD to please us. I went to a viewing at the funeral home (for a stranger everyone else in town knew and loved), and found myself with an armful of weeping acquaintance-- the departed's adult daughter. I shepherded an elderly pair of parishioners through the event, caring for their grief at losing a peer, their fear of their own mortality, and their inability to hear the VFW solemnities or get safely to chairs when asked. I wept for the loveliness of this community the internet is changing faster than people here can adapt, and the invasion we're having now from the big cities. I had a few precious moments with Bud and spent a minute loving his departed Helen with him (she dies last year), and his soon-departing brother Don (lungs are falling apart, he won't die till he can't wheeze anymore), and sent him specialest smoochies that I know he and his wife will feel down to their toes. I gave the special smile of professional knowing to the funeral home men (just working stiffs themselves....) I got us out of all that on time to get to our next stop-- Vestry (that's the parish's lay leadership). I cheered on some church leaders as I did some printing at the church while the monthly Vestry meeting got underway. I asked for prayer and practical help from a colleague there (for the spot the wannabe priest is in), securing the political capital I will attempt to spend wisely on her behalf tomorrow. I zoomed home to pack so I can leave at 6AM to drive all day back and forth to a dicey meeting about the future of ANOTHER priest candidate. Such is sometimes usual for my day, Mudcatters, and I think I can count on one hand the number of you who know (or care shit) about it.

Then I bopped over to Court TV-- I was looking for Spector trial news I might have missed while jaunting about. Here are the headlines that greeted me:

Small Town Horror
Police find 6-year-old girl sexually assaulted, hanged in her family's garage

Beheaded Neighbor
Man pleads guilty to murdering, dismembering a retired schoolteacher

Voices of Terror
Judge OKs playing portions of Flight 93 voice recorder audio at trial

No Hate Crime?
Prosecutors seek stiffer penalties in alleged rape, torture of black woman in West Va.

Caught on Tape
Police officer suspended after threatening to arrest man on invented charges

Skeletal Remains
Fla. police hope science will yield clues to identities of eight decomposed bodies

Guilty of 'Plunder'
Deposed Philippines president convicted of corruption, sentenced to life in prison

Free for a Day
Less than 24 hours after being released, aging ex-con accused of stealing idling car

'Error in Judgment'
Former Va. sheriff sentenced to eight months in jail for lying about corruption

Focusing on Education
Rutgers University player drops defamation suit against radio host Don Imus, CBS

Out of Paper
FBI nabs bank robber who wrote demand note on one of his own checks

Inadmissible Evidence
Court overturns conviction of man found guilty of beheading three children

Escapee Returns
Admitted killer who walked away from psychiatric hospital goes back on his own

Polygamy Aside
Jurors in Jeffs trial asked to set aside views on sect leader's religion


And I say, LOVE'S THE ONLY HOUSE BIG ENOUGH, and the ugliness here is sometimes REALLY TIRESOME, and yes, I'M SHOUTING.

*Soapbox Over*

I feel better! :~)

But I'm sorry I don't always send Catters what I promise to send them as soon as I wish I'd sent it. I send it eventually though-- because I promised Rick.

~Susan

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: Ebbie
Date: 12 Sep 07 - 09:51 PM

Susan, your caring and your expertise come through very clearly and I honor and admire that. I must say I'm glad that it's you and not me; on the other hand I'm sure there is a lot of satisfaction for you in it too.

This statement, though, I thought uncalled for: (just how much do you know or care about most of anonymous us-es?) "Such is sometimes usual for my day, Mudcatters, and I think I can count on one hand the number of you who know (or care shit) about it."

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Sep 07 - 09:52 PM

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS
Sally Fingerett-©1991 Green Fingers Music, BMI

On the corner there's this nice man
His name is Mark, He's always smiling
He's got this mom who comes on Wednesdays
In the evening with soup so steaming
He shares his house with his friend Martin
They're not brothers, they're not cousins
My little girl wonders all about these men
I take hold of her hand, and I begin

chorus:
Home is where the heart is
No matter how the heart lives
Inside your heart where love is
That's where you've got to make yourself
At home

Across the yard live Deb and Tricia
With their tools and ladders
And their room addition
My kid yells over, "Are ya having a baby?"
They wink and smile, they say, "Someday maybe."
But through their doors go kids and mommies
Funny how you don't see the daddies go in
My little girl wonders
'Bout this house with no men,
I take hold of her hand
And I begin

chorus

'Round the corner, here comes Martin
He's alone now, he tries smiling
He roams around his well stocked kitchen
He knows that fate will soon be coming
My little girl wonders where he will live
I take hold of her hand and I begin

chorus

Martin sits and waits with his windows open
His house is empty, his heart is broken
We bring him toys and watercolors
He loves to hear my little baby's stories
She's the gift I share
She's his companion
She's the string on the kite
She guides him into the wind
My little girl wonders who will care for him
We take hold of his hand and we begin

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: maeve
Date: 13 Sep 07 - 08:13 AM

Susan, such such an overflow of grief, love, anger, sorrow, love, frustration... did I mention love? I'm glad that while you expressed the thought that few here know or care (the line to which Ebbie, being both kind and caring, took exception) you said it here, where time and time again over the years I've read such rants by people who've reached a boiling point or the depths of sorrow. You knew that here you could post such an outpouring and that enough of us would have sufficient understanding to receive and respond to the heart of your post without being overwhelmed by or closed to it.

I'm reminded of the following quote, and I hope that I am able to meet some of your need without misinterpretation through ignorance of the particulars of your own journey. My copy of it hangs on the wall in our front hall.

"Friendship:

Oh the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are - chaff and grain together- certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with the breath of kindness blow the rest away." Dinah Mulock

maeve

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: maeve
Date: 13 Sep 07 - 08:35 AM

I appreciate that you sent me reams of music from your music group, as you promised, and I delight in its non-secular nature. *BG*

Rapaire- I think your song posting may help repair (How could I possibly resist) some of the worn places. Thanks.

maeve

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: McGrath of Harlow
Date: 13 Sep 07 - 04:50 PM

Sometimes I feel like a feather in the air...

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: maeve
Date: 13 Sep 07 - 06:33 PM

"...a long way from home." Yes, McGrath, that too. A very long way, today. I have always loved that line in particular.

maeve

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: wysiwyg
Date: 13 Sep 07 - 06:43 PM

I'm in a very different place today. Yesterday was a glory, but such contrast to be hip-deep in. I was not angry when I wrote, nor blaming Mudcat about anything, just needing to say how it is, for a change.... descriptive, not pejorative. And yes it is rewarding, always. Thanks for the replies.

Ebbie mentioned (I think) training and expertise. No-- it's free-fall, spontaneous; I never know what's going to be presented for me to address and so what I have learned is to just go with it. It's not that I know "how," it's that the doing has led to some reflections that amount to some experience, but every new challenge is brand-new and I don't think there IS expertise for it; it's more a willingness to try and a responsiveness to what is obvious in front of me.

Today apparently the many hats I wear had each decided to get up an hour early, and I guess these many heads in the many hats didn't know they could all use the same 1-hour early wakeup and call it even-- each one woke me up for its own hour! I woke up at 3:30 AM and spent a happy few hours in bed in the comfortable dark, listening to The Count of Monte Cristo in audiobook; eventually I got out of the bed an hour earlier than planned (early enough to get a jump on the day). It was a long one, lots of driving and lots of paying attention to complex things, and I'm going back to bed now! :~)

~Susan

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 13 Sep 07 - 10:14 PM

once again I'm stuck for words (words are not my forte) trying to describe how I feel about the words here - one member's experience & 2 songs.


sandra

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 Sep 07 - 10:44 PM

BIG HOUSE, MIDDLE HOUSE, BACK HOUSE, BARN
Words and music by David Crossman and Tom Rowe

Through the big house, middle house, back house, barn,
Goes the kitten with a mitten and a ball of yarn;
All a'scitter and a'scamper, gonna upset Grandpa
By playing under his chair.
From the halls with the walls and the floors well worn
To the room in the eaves where the kids were born;
It's the place we grew 'til we finally knew
We'd have to leave it all behind.

        And I can see like yesterday the smile on Grandma's face.
        And I can hear the love we shared as it echoes in this space.
        And though it's just a memory, it cannot be erased;
        For like the big house, middle house, back house, barn,
        We're connected to this place.

In the big house, middle house, back house, barn,
There's Dad with Mother on his arm.
You can tell inside he's filled with pride;
You can see it in his sparklin' eyes.
When they built this house it was strong and stout,
And it took a lot of love to keep the weather out.
It held our faith and cradled our dreams
And kept us warm and dry.

In the big house, middle house, back house, barn,
We still live here and life goes on.
There've been a few changes and a few rearranges
But the love remains the same.
And we all meet here maybe once a year
And we talk about the folks we hold so dear;
And the kids make noise as they play with toys
That come from another time.

Subject: RE: BS: Love's the Only House
From: wysiwyg
Date: 14 Sep 07 - 11:42 AM

I awoke this AM to find email from a Stage 4 cancer-battling associate, a husband's day off to share, a thank-you note from a diocesan leader, a freshly-printed calendar waiting to be filled in with the crazy-busy ministry travel and meetings plus my personal commitments, an email about an AquaRunning class I'm starting, lots of laundry to do/fold/put away, and a closet of "show clothes" in need of the seasonal changeover plus adding in some newly-arrived separates to fill some of the wardrobe gaps..... and the continuing lovely responses in this crazy thread I started.

There are not words to describe how or why the responses here bring tears, but I can feel a whole lotta tight springs letting go a little bit all at the same time, and THANKS.

For a variety of reasons, this is the time of year when a lot of amazing things usually whomp up in my life-- assume, if you will, that for the balance of the Fall season I'll be alternating between (A) celebrating wacky cool stuff ("miracles") I'm witnessing and/or involved in, and (B) needing a soft place to land in between. It would be great if Mudcat is one of those places. It's funny when I think of so many of you getting ready for Getaway and the PMs I always get about coming for an afternoon of it, just when it's least possible to come! :~)

Rap-- ... the big house, middle house, back house, barn... remind me of our rental property here: the main house, the addition section of the house with Mudcat dorm where we have a spare master bedroom we sometimes use, and the camper out back by the barn that we also sometimes use. They're all full of memories and memories-to-be, too. We don't manage getting actually AWAY, but when we use these different parts of our home, it is very much like being away.

Thanks again.

~Susan