This is the reason this song was written. This is the reason we were born. This is the reason I love Young Life.
[sigh no more | a reflection of beauty] from JJ Starr on Vimeo.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Lay My Burden Down - Aoife O'Donovan
Just discovered today that this touching song was penned by a relatively new artist, who I have been seeing quite a lot of these days. Aoife O'Donovan of Boston. When you get discovered by Alison Kraus, you are doing quite fine, thank you.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
My Father's Father / The Civil Wars
This is completely haunting and beautiful to me, and speaks of the mystery of our past. As I continue to research the history of my own family, 11 generations now in America, with members on opposite sides of the Civil War, these words have new meaning.
My Father's Father
I hear something hanging on the wind
I see black smoke up around the bend
I got my ticket and
I'm going to go home
The leaves have changed a time or two
Since the last time the train came through
I got my ticket and I'm going to go home
My father's father's blood is on the track
A sweet refrain drifts in from the past
I got my ticket and I'm going to go home
The winding roads they led me here
burn like coal and dry like tears
So here's my hope
My tired soul
So here's my ticket
I want to go home
Home
Home
My Father's Father
I hear something hanging on the wind
I see black smoke up around the bend
I got my ticket and
I'm going to go home
The leaves have changed a time or two
Since the last time the train came through
I got my ticket and I'm going to go home
My father's father's blood is on the track
A sweet refrain drifts in from the past
I got my ticket and I'm going to go home
The winding roads they led me here
burn like coal and dry like tears
So here's my hope
My tired soul
So here's my ticket
I want to go home
Home
Home
Wednesday, March 07, 2012
My Friend Molly
Someday, I hope I get to meet Angela, who has written this beautiful piece about our family friend, Molly.....
Molly
She is the first reason
in 23 years
that I've ever had to wake up with the sun.
And her magic number is 21.
Born with an extra chromosome,
Molly is a miracle.
She loves musicals, math problems,
and literally refers to EVERY book she sees as her 'favorite'
Molly colors the world.
On ordinary days,
She reminds me to sing songs that aren't playing
And see things that aren't there.
At least, that is... to jaded eyes and ears like ours.
See, Molly has a gift:
She lives as if no one is watching.
A true freedom.
She lacks an ego,
Operates solely on love,
and doesn't respond well to anger.
She is hello hugs,
goodbye smiles,
and occasional slaps on the butt.
She is random questions
no; I mean REALLY random
(She once asked me what time Jesus was born)
She is beautiful compliments and peculiar observations.
Molly is bright purple boots, knee high socks, and umbrellas when its not raining.
She is cafeteria salads topped with,
of all things,
sweet relish.
She is chocolate milk.
Together, we are anything but 'disabled'
We are silly.
and it is not uncommon for both of us to laugh uncontrollably
when someone makes fart noises in the classroom.
I try to be an adult;
But it is hard when she makes the musings of childhood
seem so much more appealing.
We chase 'bad guys' around the track during gym,
and break into show tunes in the hallway,
and whenever she decides to
I let that girl dance.
because she is preserving my silly...
AND developing my patience.
Not every day is a bowl of cherries,
See, Molly likes to sass me from time to time.
She has an attitude that rivals my own,
and is not afraid to tell me,
straight up,
to "Get out of her face"
She is charming,
but some days she gets frustrated.
Not because she cannot communicate her thoughts,
but because we don't always speak her language.
I guess the only "down" to the syndrome
is that everyone else can't seem to catch up.
There is nothing 'disabled' about her.
The problem is with us;
see, the world likes to taint the beautiful with its "normal"
But Molly is a musical when the world is silent.
One of the goals of her education plan,
Is to become more "well-adjusted"
And I can't help but ask "...to what?"
To boring?
To egotistical?
To vain?
Molly is so many things that 'normal' is not
and because of that
I've yet to watch her interact with someone
who doesn't immediately fall in love.
She makes every day happenings anything but.
Once, at fifth period,
Molly was working on her times tables,
and I was taking notes...when in her loudest voice, with a smile on her face,
completely out of nowhere,
she yelled:
"Teach me how to fly!!"
..and after we laughed it off,
I picked her pencil up off the floor and said:
"ME teach YOU..?! Girl please,
you're the one with the wings...
now get back to work."
Angela Aguirre
Molly
She is the first reason
in 23 years
that I've ever had to wake up with the sun.
And her magic number is 21.
Born with an extra chromosome,
Molly is a miracle.
She loves musicals, math problems,
and literally refers to EVERY book she sees as her 'favorite'
Molly colors the world.
On ordinary days,
She reminds me to sing songs that aren't playing
And see things that aren't there.
At least, that is... to jaded eyes and ears like ours.
See, Molly has a gift:
She lives as if no one is watching.
A true freedom.
She lacks an ego,
Operates solely on love,
and doesn't respond well to anger.
She is hello hugs,
goodbye smiles,
and occasional slaps on the butt.
She is random questions
no; I mean REALLY random
(She once asked me what time Jesus was born)
She is beautiful compliments and peculiar observations.
Molly is bright purple boots, knee high socks, and umbrellas when its not raining.
She is cafeteria salads topped with,
of all things,
sweet relish.
She is chocolate milk.
Together, we are anything but 'disabled'
We are silly.
and it is not uncommon for both of us to laugh uncontrollably
when someone makes fart noises in the classroom.
I try to be an adult;
But it is hard when she makes the musings of childhood
seem so much more appealing.
We chase 'bad guys' around the track during gym,
and break into show tunes in the hallway,
and whenever she decides to
I let that girl dance.
because she is preserving my silly...
AND developing my patience.
Not every day is a bowl of cherries,
See, Molly likes to sass me from time to time.
She has an attitude that rivals my own,
and is not afraid to tell me,
straight up,
to "Get out of her face"
She is charming,
but some days she gets frustrated.
Not because she cannot communicate her thoughts,
but because we don't always speak her language.
I guess the only "down" to the syndrome
is that everyone else can't seem to catch up.
There is nothing 'disabled' about her.
The problem is with us;
see, the world likes to taint the beautiful with its "normal"
But Molly is a musical when the world is silent.
One of the goals of her education plan,
Is to become more "well-adjusted"
And I can't help but ask "...to what?"
To boring?
To egotistical?
To vain?
Molly is so many things that 'normal' is not
and because of that
I've yet to watch her interact with someone
who doesn't immediately fall in love.
She makes every day happenings anything but.
Once, at fifth period,
Molly was working on her times tables,
and I was taking notes...when in her loudest voice, with a smile on her face,
completely out of nowhere,
she yelled:
"Teach me how to fly!!"
..and after we laughed it off,
I picked her pencil up off the floor and said:
"ME teach YOU..?! Girl please,
you're the one with the wings...
now get back to work."
Angela Aguirre
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