The One Who Waits for Us and Wanders Where We Wander. A Note From Jan.

Writing this on Friday night about half an hour after our Bible study group left

We met at our perch Important to reach out when I’m inclined to hide out Another nudge from Jud

Nine not ten Odd numbers Odd feeling Jud missing from the group

Brought up the dining room chairs from the living room Jud usually did that Loaded the dishwasher Jud’s job, usually, while I put away food So many usuals, now unusual

Our group shared about the different ways we deal with loss Prayed for many “Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.” Good to be in the company of familiar folks while slogging through unfamiliar terrain I love these people Comforters

Later, I looked at the Wendell Berry book Heather and Matt gave me for Christmas TRAVELING AT HOME a hardback with woodcuts a keeper!

I love the poem after which the book’s named. Here are its opening lines —

“Even in a country you know by heart it’s hard to go the same way twice. The life of the going changes. The chances change and make a new way.”

Bible study group’s changed forever. I’m learning “the chances change and make a new way.” Learning, too, that different doesn’t have to be worse.

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The next morning, Martha sent me this poem under the heading “Speaking of Loss…” The source was The Writer’s Almanac by Garrison Keillor, which features a different poem each day.  On this day, he read Anne Porter’s MUSIC:

When I was a child I once sat sobbing on the floor Beside my Mother’s piano As she played and sang For there was in her singing A shy yet solemn glory my smallness could not hold

And when I was asked Why I was crying I had no words for it I only shook my head And went on crying

Why is it that music At its most beautiful Opens a wound in us An ache a desolation Deep as a homesickness For some far-off And half-forgotten country

I’ve never understood Why this is so

But there’s an ancient legend From the other side of the world That gives away the secret Of this mysterious sorrow For centuries on centuries We have been wandering But we were made for Paradise As deer for the forest.

And when music comes to us With its heavenly beauty It brings us desolation For when we hear it We half remember That lost native country

We dimly remember the fields Their fragrant windswept clover The birdsongs in the orchards The wild white violets in the moss By the transparent streams

And shining at the heart of it Is the longed-for beauty Of the One who waits for us Who will always wait for us In those radiant meadows

Yet also came to live with us And wanders where we wander.

“Music” gives me one more opportunity to thank the many talented musicians—Richard,Doug, Bobby, Jamie, Gordon College Choir, Christina, Luke, Gregory, Alex, Sarita, Norm, Steve, Jeff and Graeme—who through piano, organ, trumpet, harp,flute or voice— gave us glimpses of “the One who waits for us, came to live with us and wanders where we wander.”

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