My girls really love this song, they said it reminds them of Uncle Steve. Thought I would share it...
Come to Jesus: by Mindy Smith
Oh, my baby, when you're older
Maybe then you'll understand
You have angels that stand around your shoulders
'Cause at times in life you need a loving hand
Oh, my baby, when you're prayin'
Leave your burden by my door
You have Jesus standing by your bedside
To keep you calm, keep you safe,
Away from harm
Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don't seem worth livin'
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms
Oh, my baby, when you're cryin'
Never hide your face from me
I've conquered hell and driven out the demons
I have come with a life to set you free
Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don't seem worth livin'
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh, my baby, when you're dying
Believe the healing of His hand
Here in Heaven we will wait for your arrival
Here in Heaven you will finally understand
Here in Heaven we will wait for your arrival
Here in Heaven you will finally understand
Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don't seem worth livin'
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms.
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
The whole song spoke to me but the part that most did so was:
Here in Heaven we will wait for your arrival
Here in Heaven you will finally understand
From someone like me that has so...many...questions.
It is nice to hope for final understanding as a component to heavenly bliss.
Covenant recognized that this was a fact. But he had not expected such an argument from the Giant.
"Foamfollower'" he muttered, climbing out of his bed, "you've been thinking again."
from: "Lord Foul's Bane"
Just click on "Come to Jesus" and a player box will pop up (make sure you turn off any popup blockers that you have). I looked for just the song without the video, but couldn't find it.
Now that I have more time, I thought I would elaborate a bit more on what I mentioned in that "yowza" thread I started. For a few years now, we've been helping a single mom here in Bend. She has two great kids, 7 and 10, they are very close to our kids. She is also HIV positive and has been in acute infection for 2 years with a CD4 T-Cell count below 200 but still above 100, so she was not considered "full blown". She struggles so hard to keep up with life. Bills, job children, home and HIV. She misses alot of work, and her boss is a very understanding and compassion person and allows for her sick time off. However, there are no benefits, no "sick" days and she is on state medicaid. Russ and I help her with her utilities and rent, take the kids whenever she is too ill to care for them or is in the hospital. But now, things are changing. Recently, her CD4 plunged down below 100 to 82. She is now full blown AIDS. For the last two weeks I have been working on getting her on SS disability, (I detest dealing with SS), she's had to quit her job. But, SS will not be enough for her to keep her apartment and pay bills. I would gladly just keep paying her rent and utilities, but, she has AIDS, and no one to care for her or her kids. SO!! Russ and I talked about it and we have invited her and her children to move in here with us. (We've done this before, but pride always stopped her) We have also started putting the wheels in motion to become legal gaurdians of Jordan and Micah, so we can make medical, dental, education, and basic decisions for them in those times when Lynne won't be able too. It also protects them, so they can not be seperated from us when their mother passes on. At which time, we will formally adopt them. Lynne has no family to speak of. Both her parents passed in a car accident several years ago and she has no siblings. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins etc..want nothing to do with her or the kids. Sooooooo, we are her family.
So, that's it in a nutshell. She and the kids will move in with us at the end of the month. Our house is filling up fast!!! Russ has talked to architects about putting on an addition.
"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain." --William Shakespeare
Peace
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
And as I said in the "yowza" thread, I don't even bat an eye anymore when you do things like this. Not that I expect such things out of you - I don't expect such things out of ten people. But I'm certainly not surprised. And just this once, I won't embarrass you by saying here what I pm'd you yesterday!
duchess,
FANTASTIC letter!!!! Beautifully worded way to make people think about themselves! And it touches on what I say at my tiny site about happiness: www.geocities.com/happinessisournaturalstate/ The question is not, "What do I have to do to be happy?" The question is, "Why do I let things stop me from being being what I was born to be?"
For myself, I'd like to hoard love and happiness. At least I think they're the most important things. We'll see how much I can get. The joke for pack-rats is that the one who has the most things when he dies wins. But I don't think it's a joke if you substitute "love and happiness" for "things."
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
That's pretty amazing. It seriously does sound like the kind of life a book should be based on.
I was going to say I didn't know of anyone that would do what you have done for this woman and her family. While I think the Franciscan Friars of the renewal whom I spent time with in NYC might have done all they could it would still have paled in comparision. To adopt the children, make sure the mother is well cared for, ensured EVERYONE'S physical and mental health in that family just seems out of kink with the rest of the world. God bless you Tracie I just don't see how you do it. Those poor kids and what they would have gone through if it wasn't for you..
And since you DO do it maybe there is hope for the rest of us.
Covenant recognized that this was a fact. But he had not expected such an argument from the Giant.
"Foamfollower'" he muttered, climbing out of his bed, "you've been thinking again."
from: "Lord Foul's Bane"
Well, I just follow my heart...and God's guiding Hand. She's not the first and won't be the last. This is my work, my purpose..it is what I was born to do. Just as Stephen was born to be the guide of lost souls to Jesus.
"More life, this is the great work, the great work of the ages..."--Tony Kushner, Angels in America
And Fist...you hoarde that happiness and love...all of you!! Nothing surpasses the power of love, it is boundless, it is infinite, it is glorious.
Love Can Build a Bridge, The Judds
I'd gladly walk across the desert
With no shoes upon my feet
To share with you the last bite
Of bread I had to eat
I would swim out to save you
In your sea of broken dreams
When all your hopes are sinkin'
Let me show you what love means
(Chorus)
Love can build a bridge
Between your heart and mine
Love can build a bridge
Don't you think it's time?
Don't you think it's time?
I would whisper love so loudly
Every heart could understand
That love and only love
Can join the tribes of man
I would give my heart's desire
So that you might see
The first step is to realize
That it all begins with you and me
(Repeat Chorus)
When we stand together
It's our finest hour
We can do anything, anything
Keep believin' in the power
(Repeat Chorus)
Love and only love
Love and only love
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
I'd gladly walk across the desert
With no shoes upon my feet
To share with you the last bite
Of bread I had to eat
That reminds me a movie I can't put my finger on it. It talked about how you know a person really loves you if they offer their last bite of food to you instead of eating it themselves?
Funny yeah? I think it's true though.
Thank you Furls that is a beautiful song
Covenant recognized that this was a fact. But he had not expected such an argument from the Giant.
"Foamfollower'" he muttered, climbing out of his bed, "you've been thinking again."
from: "Lord Foul's Bane"
Tracie always says that our brother was a miracle, and he was, but she is also a miracle. I have never met anyone like my sister. I have tried to do what she does, and I have helped people when I can, but she and Russ always go above and beyond. They are really the ones that make a difference.
Good news today!!! Ayize has tested negative for HIV. He is CURED!!!
All I can say is Thank God. It's clear he listened to your prayers
Covenant recognized that this was a fact. But he had not expected such an argument from the Giant.
"Foamfollower'" he muttered, climbing out of his bed, "you've been thinking again."
from: "Lord Foul's Bane"
The Other Sister wrote:Tracie always says that our brother was a miracle, and he was, but she is also a miracle. I have never met anyone like my sister. I have tried to do what she does, and I have helped people when I can, but she and Russ always go above and beyond. They are really the ones that make a difference.
Julie
God bless you, sweet sister. This world is only graced more by your presence in it. Don't sell yourself short, Julie. You are beautiful!
Lament wrote:All I can say is Thank God. It's clear he listened to your prayers
God has, indeed, graced us with wonderful gifts. Ayize will now grow up to be strong and healthy.
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
Hail everyone! I finally got another entry typed up. Sorry it has been so long, but life has gotten increasely more crazy here at the ole homestead.
You may recall that I mentioned a person by the name of Harold Prevetti. He entered Stephen's life while he was attending Berkeley. This is their first meeting. I will find all of the other entries concerning him and type them up as well.
There is, as is known, agents of evil in the world.
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.
There is a fog hanging over the water as we sail across the Bay. Serene, surreal, dense, I can barely see the pale glow of mooring lights on the other vessels passing by. They go slow, as though fearful of what lies in wait, or perhaps of dropping off some unseen edge. The ethereal silence of the mist muffles the foghorns that announce their presence on the water. I watch them as they creep along, hear the lap of the water against their keels. I inhale the mist, feel it fill my lungs with a coolness that whispers of health. My mind wanders. For here, the substantial world melds with the spiritual and I become whole. I see angels in the swirl of the haze, I hear the distant music of soft chimes, and I feel myself rising up to meet them even as my physical shell remains sitting on the damp bench of the ferry. If I were not writing, I would close my eyes and let it fill me up.
And yet, somehow, there is something else, the hint of fear. It grows now, building. It invades my soul, silences the music, taints the mist. I look over at the man next me. He sits huddled, wrapped up in his coat, his hands grip the fabric so tight that his knuckles bulge. He looks expensive, an executive of some sort, ferrying over to Oakland. He sees me looking at him, his eyes full of trouble or madness or fear, and asks: “What are you writing?” At once, I reach into my jacket pocket, turn on my little recorder and put down my pen…
Same day--October 17, 1991 11:38pm-- (Now recounting what I heard from Harold Prevetti. There is, as is known, agents of evil in the world.)
“I keep a journal. Right now, I’m writing down how in the fog the world and Heaven become one.”
He snorted at that, but made no comment. His fear encompassed me as I continued to watch him. “I hate this fog.” He said after a minute, and I watched those troubled eyes stumble from side to side as he took in the mist. “I really hate it.” I watched him start to shift and grip his coat even tighter. “Don’t you hate it?”
I smiled at him then, and he actually winced. As though my smile hurt him in some way. “No. I like the fog, the mist, the way it seems to blank out the substantial and let in the other side. I especially like it out on the water. I like to breath it in.”
He grunted. “You would.” He looked away from me and something more than fear began to seep into my awareness. It was hatred, coming from him, directed at me.
I held out my hand to him then, “Steve McKinney. I’m a student of theology and art at Berkeley.”
“Harold, Harold Prevetti,” he avoided my hand.
“What did you mean when you said ‘you would’?”
His eyes found me again, and I became chilled, a chill that no fog or dampness at its worst could have produced. “Look at you. Long hair, ear rings, writing down thoughts about…(the words “thoughts” and “about” came out as one long snarl). All you artsy queers love shit like fog.”
I laughed. He didn’t. I decided then to come to the matter before me. What else was there to do? Run? No, I don’t run. I felt the Father’s hand on my shoulder then and inhaled more mist. My will was about to be tested, my faith. I knew it. I leaned forward, letting my notebook and pen drop to the floor. “So, where does it come from? This hate you have so focused on me?”
Whatever mask Harold Prevetti was wearing came off then. At once, my soul was seared with a hate so hot that I began to sweat. His eyes became daggers as they stared at me, the grip on his coat fell away and he let his hands form claws. It was then I knew, as if I didn’t already, who had his heart. And he knew who had mine. I didn’t recoil, nor did I flinch. I held his gaze and he mine. Then he whispered. “I hate all artsy queers.”
And I replied. “I hate no one.”
“No? Of course you don’t. But, I bet if you knew me well enough, you would hate me.”
“No. I wouldn’t. And I don’t. Because you are just being used. He strives always to make us hurt ourselves and each other, because he knows that is what hurts the Father the most.”
This time, he laughed. “Oh, I get it, you think I’m possessed or something. By what? The Devil?” He leaned back, relaxed a little. The hate coming from him was intoxicating, made it hard for me to breathe. “I’m not possessed, kid. I just hate all queers and religious nuts. You seem to be both. Go back to your scribbling and leave me alone.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to talk to you.”
“No, I mean, why do you lie to me?” I felt the grip on my shoulder grow tighter.
(It is here that the recording becomes distorted. Something went wrong with it. So, I will try and remember all he said, but it is not verbatim—and I must say this—it is not of God.)
“Oh, you are a smart one. Lie to you? Alright, this is why I hate you. Because I see how close you are to where He is. And I will never be that close. Not that I want to be, I want to be as far away from it as I can get. I hate you because it’s easy. And it’s better than hating myself. I hate you because I can see how much you just love everything. That’s the truth, kid.” There he paused, and pulled in a huge breath. I knew he wasn’t finished talking so I waited. “I saw what you wrote down, ‘angels swirling in the mist’, I saw them too, but they weren’t angels, they were demons. The world and—Heaven—(he said ‘heaven’ with obvious effort)—becoming one? It’s the world and hell, kid. The world and hell.” Another pause. “f***, the world IS hell.”
“God bless you.” I said then, and he bared his teeth at me, grabbed the front of my jacket with both hands, stuck his face in mine.
“F*** God. Hell is all there is.” He shoved me away from him, got up and moved off into the fog.
“Harold!” I called after him. “Hell is only where you think you are. There is more, so much more, all you have to do is let go of the hate. He can’t hold you if you let go of the hate.”
He surged out of the fog at me, grabbed the front of my jacket again, yanked me up off the bench. “Shut up. What do you know of hate? Huh? What the f*** do you know of it? You’re what? 18? 20? How could you possibly understand anything about life and hell. You’re nothing but a queer ass kid.”
“I know more about life and love and heaven and hell than you can guess. I know pain, I know sickness, I know mortality, and I know God. He’s here right now, Harold. And you know that, don’t you? Because you felt Him through me. That’s why you were so afraid of the fog, that’s why that fear turned to hate toward me. You hate me because I know Him and you wish you did. You say it’s easy to hate? Yes. It is. But it is also easy to love. What has happened to you to make it so hard for you to love? Give it up, Harold. Hate serves no purpose but to breed more hate. It can’t make you happy.” I paused then, staring into those mad, hate-filled eyes. “God bless you, Harold.” He let go of me then, turned, and started to walk away. “Harold? You can find me at Berkeley. Just go to student services and ask for me. They will get me for you. My name is Stephen McKinney.”
“Go to hell.” His voice came out the fog at me. But it lacked the fierceness of hate, conveyed only the loneliness of fear.
So now, I say again. “God bless you, Harold Prevetti.”
"And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them" --Isaiah 42:16, KJV
Ah, Father, You send me such harmed souls. I hope I have not failed you, I didn’t know what else to do. My heart tells me that it was not enough.
I sing to life
and to it's tragic beauty
to pain and to strife
and all that dances thru me
the rise and the fall
i've lived thru it all...
To my brother, Steve, who held a grace and light beyond words, God bless. I love you --Tracie
Ah such courage Stephen! May you eternally bask in the light of the One! Can't wait to meet you in Los Alamos. To me these things are much more complex than that, but that's just me. I will say, and pardon the pun, that you have a definate way of cutting though the fog...
Thought I would share it...
That was beautiful.
Hugglessssssssss Lament
I think it's true though.
