Grace isn’t a little prayer you chant before receiving a meal. It’s a way to live. ~Attributed to Jacqueline Winspear
Make them pure and holy through teaching them your words of truth.
~ John 17:17
Organ Grinder Scene
This little 16 second scene from Poor Little Rich Girl is merely an illustration for what I am trying to reach for…a song coming out under duress.
My mother-in-law went on to glory in July. We inter her tomorrow with my father-in-law in her home state. What has transpired between has been nothing short of an emotional meat grinder. I’ll spare you the fine details, but suffice to say we are wrung out, raw and having a hard time keeping our game face on in the face of this particular grief.
In researching organ grinders, I came upon this piece of history:
Sometime in the mid-1800s, immigrant organ grinders started showing up in U.S. cities as well. The first mention of a local man-and-monkey team was in the Oct. 8, 1884 Washington Post. The paper, which in those days sometimes sought to entertain readers with mockery of immigrants, related a tale of an Italian organ grinder “and his red-coated monkey” who walked into the old Deaf and Dumb Asylum at Sixth and M streets, not realizing that the inhabitants would be unable to hear his music. Apparently, though, the residents enjoyed the monkey’s antics, because he left “enriched by numerous coppers.”
In so many cases, it feels as if we are that organ grinder in the Asylum and what little music we make is falling on deaf ears.
All I ask is your prayers for my family this weekend. Thank you also, for your kind words in this time, and your extravagant love as you see us grasping for the high road.
Keep singing! Keep living your thanks.
Lord, breathe afresh on all the “organ grinders” out there who sing your truth, and are seemingly unheard. Bless them, and the ears of those who are listening, and those who cannot.
Because of Him,