Sunday song

Early Sunday morning, on my way to church, the sky’s overcast but sun rays are peeking through, all set to teach the lesson on what constitutes a “hero” and while the best-known characteristic may be courage (which is not the absence of fear but acting bravely in spite of it), not to mention self-sacrifice, then perhaps the least recognized is humility, throwing off the mantle of leadership to be a servant, it’s all a matter of the spirit, service… and as I drive past barns, fields, pastures, the green, green grass hints of imminent spring, making my heart rejoice, as do the horses tossing their manes when I pass, surely shaking off sleep and the night, greeting the day as if to say Good morning, good morning, not to mention that I have just enough time to make choir practice before I teach, for we are finally singing as a choir again after two long years, and look at all these robins flocking by the roadside, taking flight as I round the bend, maybe straightening a curve or two, until I remember something my childhood preacher said: Don’t have a Jesus bumper sticker on your car if you drive like the devil… good thing I have no such sticker, but I’ll slow down a bit just the same…in my bag is a list of prayer requests and petitions to make, knowing the Lord already knows, for He knows all, sees all, is over all, and while there is so much I cannot understand, I am learning, I am always learning, and although words are forever scrolling through my brain, today, my heart needs no words; it just sings, like the birds.

A photo from last summer. In recent weeks a little Carolina wren has been perching on the tip of the cross of one of our two “bird churches,” singing its heart out to the sky. I haven’t been successful in recording this glorious solo… yet.

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with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of Life Story Challenge every day in the month of March.

21 thoughts on “Sunday song

  1. Fran, this burst of excitement in your voice as you write today is like the burst of spring greening our world with welcoming buds. The intentional breathlessness is so effective here as new life charges and energizes us – and our gas pedal feet especially feel energized in springtime because we are so ready to take it all in. I think of Bambi – everyone is twitterpated. The heart sings in spring – I love the concept of singing throughout your piece – we sing heroes (or they remain unsung), the choir sings, birds sing, the heart sings. We all sing green in spring, the greenest green we’ve ever seen according to one backseat prophet I’ve been following lately. I love your blog today – it is just what I needed to start this Monday morning!

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    • Oh, dear Bambi! Twitterpated! Trust you to nail an analogy like no one else, Kim. Even your comments flow like poetry. Lyrical. I really have to write a set of stories or poems sparked by my Backseat Prophet. ❤

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  2. Mmmm, delightfully fresh, we are right there with you on your drive, with all those thoughts running through your mind and just feeling the sense of optimism and renewal in all things and the importance of what you are going to teach resonates, especially the strength of humility and servant leadership!

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  3. This is such a poetic slice, filled with beautiful lyricism. I love the movement here, the glimpses of scenery, letting me be on this contemplative drive with you –

    “I drive past barns, fields, pastures, the green, green grass hints of imminent spring, making my heart rejoice, as do the horses tossing their manes when I pass, surely shaking off sleep and the night, greeting the day… “

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  4. A lovely slice of a stream! I enjoyed going for a ride along with you; your imagery took me right there.
    “the horses tossing their manes when I pass, surely shaking off sleep and the night, greeting the day as if to say Good morning, good morning” — a poem nestled neatly inside your post. Thanks for sharing!

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  5. This is a masterfully crafted sentence, full of the pacing of a Sunday drive: purposeful but leisurely, measured, as you take in what you see, consider each thought as it comes your way in, out, and back around again, then on to the next musing which, like the car on a Sunday drive, might veer down one pathway or back, perhaps taking a detour or a scenic route because there’s the time and the space to do so, with a ride a smooth and uninterrupted as one long, beautiful, masterfully crafted sentence.

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