Grief

-
Sometimes the news comes quick. Sometimes the news comes slow. No matter how or when it comes, grief travels in the wake of the news. Grief is heavy, weighty, a burden, especially when it involves someone deeply loved. Grief is not meant to be carried alone. It’s too heavy and may last a while—and that’s ok. That’s what family and friends are for, to share the load. Jesus stood outside the tomb of his friend and wept but He did not weep alone. It was a deep, human moment. “ Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted ” (Matt 5:4). If anyone knows how we feel in grief, it’s Him. But His grief did not linger long, as at the mention of his name, Lazarus came forth. We are not meant to dwell in grief, but should leave room enough for it. Let it run its course. Like the song says, “ Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain .” Another song says, “ The storm We will dance as it breaks The storm It will give as it takes And all of our pain is washed away Don't cry or be afraid Some things...

Behind Those Golden Slumbers

-
"Come sleep, O Sleep, the certain knot of peace." (Sir Philip Sydney, 1580s). 

Eight hours is eight hours, yet why does eight hours of sleep pass at a much different rate than eight hours of work or eight hours of play? How does the time seem to pass at such a different rate?

We don't want to close our eyes, lest we miss a thing; yet, we would die without sleep. Our survival depends on it. At risk of sounding like a "stoner thought" (perhaps "shower thought" would be better said), isn't it interesting that over the course of our lives, such a significant portion is passed while we are unconscious? We close our eyes and wake up having traveled with the orbit of the planet through space.

Today I learned that the Beatle's famous song, "Golden Slumbers" was an adaptation of a song found in a play by Thomas Dekker popular in the early 1600's:

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,
Smiles awake you when you rise;
Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby,
Rock them, rock them, lullaby.
 Care is heavy, therefore sleep you,
You are care, and care must keep you;
Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby,
Rock them, rock them, lullaby.

Thomas Dekker may have borrowed his song or a version of the song from another that was borrowed from other "cradle songs" that go back into the 1500s as far as we are able to tell. 

We need sleep, for in it we are restored, rejuvenated, rested. And many times, it is from sleep our best ideas come. So as much as we don't want to miss a thing, it's always better after a little rest. Just remember to get back up again.

It's from an old movie (a family fav), but I bet you can't watch this clip without yawning: 

Popular posts from this blog

Rock Me, Epictetus!

-
Image
“Keep constant guard over your perceptions, for it is no small thing you are protecting, but your respect, trustworthiness and steadiness, peace of mind, freedom from pain and fear, in a word your freedom. For what would you sell these things?” EPICTETUS, DISCOURSES, 4.3.6 b –8 
Read more

The Smooth-flowing Life

-
Image
Legend has it that the astronomer Ptolemy (1st century A.D.) suggested that falling stars were caused by the gods moving in the heavens, thus knocking stars out of their places. Somehow people reasoned that that if the gods were moving, they must be getting close to earth so they would lift their "prayers" or "wishes" (literally, "desires") whenever they saw the stars falling in hopes the gods would notice and grant a favorable answer. But how does one wish on falling star? Once you see it, it's gone before the wish or prayer can be made! The answer is simple: meteor shower. That's how to get your wish. Mrs. Ann Hodges had a wish fall right into her lap. Sort of. In 1954 Mrs. Hodges was sleeping on the couch when a 8 1/2 pound meteorite fell through her house and into her living room where it bounced off the radio and struck her left hip leaving her with a bruise. Not sure what she was wishing, but that's not how to do it. Epictetus hel...
Read more