This story begins with “Goodbye.” In the back of my truck is a disassembled Jenny Lind crib. It was the preferred crib of its day, back in the day. And I vividly recall that I carefully sanded, stained, and finished it; it was a thing of joy, and was most useful. Once upon a time.
I tend to think more of it than milled and skillfully put together wood because it held the most precious people I have ever known. But those folks haven’t been able to fit in it for many years. They moved on to other things—and they’re still changing.
So yesterday I ‘melancholiced’ that bed frame into my truck bed with good will in mind. Goodwill, however, told me they don’t accept, “baby beds.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It isn’t just ANY baby bed! I had bought it years ago from someone who sold it with a smile. And, for me, their goodbye was a good buy!
“But it’s a new day,” I pondered.
And headed back home, wondering what to do next.
I sat in sack cloth and ashes the rest of the evening, ruminating about first one thing then the next. You know. Somehow the Chinese, and ‘the Covid,’ and eating too many cookies and ice cream, and I can’t see anybody, not even the people who slept in those beds—and I can’t even get bleach and toilet paper, et. al., came crashing down on me.
So I decided to watch a movie, which turned out to be depressing, and had a terrible ending— about a guy tortured by his past and how much he had lost and couldn’t redeem. And I thought, “Movies like this should be illegal in times like these” . . . sigh . . . so I went to bed.
This morning, I grabbled my cup of consciousness and meandered out my back door. I listened to the creatures singing and scurrying about. The view was familiar, but, you know, it’s never exactly the same way twice. The air was so clean and clear. And that golden globe was peeking at me through those gorgeous trees. “What say you, friend?” I smiled.
Standing there, some ancient words came to me. You know, good words always seem new. Ironically, they come from a Bible book named, “Passionate expressions of grief or sorrow.”
I suppose I should be more grateful that at least one thing never changes.
If you’re interested:
“The RESOLUTE LOVE of the Lord never ceases; HIS MERCIES never come to an end; They are NEW EVERY MORNING; great is your faithfulness.”
©️2019 MyPericope.com
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