Tag: porch

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God Shed His Grace On Thee…

Happy 4th of July holiday from the Big Front Porch!

Since last we visited, it seems like we sort of eased on through spring and now find ourselves navigating these summer days with some really oppressive heat…hope you’re finding ways to stay cool.

In April, I was pleased to represent Cleveland as its Music Ambassador at the long awaited Music Tourism Convention, held here in town after two postponed dates due to COVID. Deep Roots musicians entertained at some of the events and Mississippi’s favorite new country group, Chapel Hart, closed out the convention at GRAMMY Museum® Mississippi. Lots of folks from the USA and abroad got to experience the magical, mystical Mississippi Delta…good times:)

Right after the convention, the Women in the Round returned to the Delta for another show at GRAMMY Museum Mississippi. Pam Tillis and Ashley Cleveland made a return visit, and this time…after several tries…the wonderfulsongwriter Beth Nielsen Chapman was able to join us. It’s still one of my favorite gigs, and I am grateful that we got to do it one. more. time.

 

After catching my breath, the Big Front Porch, in partnership with the good folks at the Mississippi Songwriters Alliance, hosted the Mississippi Songwriters Festival – Delta Region, the first ‘satellite’ festival of the parent festival on the Coast. The 25+ local songwriters that participated had a chance to share their original songs with each other and the public over two nights.

 

 

 

 

Three professional songwriters, Bridgette Tatum, Clay Mills, and Sean Gasaway, came down from Nashville to play their ‘hits’ and present a couple of music business workshops. Most of you have heard my ‘sermon’ before that, in regards to the music business, “It All Begins With A Song,” so it was great to have an event that focused on the gifts and talents of the unsung folks who lay their hearts bare and put pen to paper trying to say those things we want to say but don’t know how…it’s a gift, to be sure. Hug a songwriter next time you see one. The Deep Roots music initiative continues its mission to strengthen community through music by providing live local roots music in area venues five nights a week, thanks to the support of the City of Cleveland and the talented musicians and audio techs that bring that music to the public each and every week. Just last week, I was honored to join the Mayor and other representatives from the City of Cleveland at the annual Mississippi Municipal League convention to accept a Municipal Excellence Award in the Spirit category for towns over 10,000 in population! Yay us!

 

Seems like I’m leaning into the slower tempo of summer more easily this year…not sure why…perhaps it’s the ‘significant birthday’ earlier this year…or perhaps it’s due to a more focused intention of being in the moment, whether enjoying the taste of a perfectly assembled tomato sandwich followed by a slice of sweet watermelon, or the joy found in a minimalist seasonal wardrobe of shorts, T-shirts, and flip-flops, or witnessing little miracles and blessings of God every day…right where I am. I am grateful.

I’ll wrap up this summertime post with little history from Wikipedia about one of my favorite patriotic songs…”America the Beautiful.”Stay cool, y’all…until next time, Tricia

 

The lyrics for “America the Beautiful” were written by Katharine Lee Bates, an English professor at Wellesley College, and the music was composed by church organist and choirmaster Samuel A. Ward at Grace Episcopal Church in Newark, New Jersey. The two never met.

In 1893, at the age of 33, Bates had taken a train trip to Colorado Springs. Several of the sights on her trip inspired her, and they found their way into her poem, including the wheat fields of the heartland of Kansas, through which her train was riding; and the majestic view of the Great Plains from high atop Pikes Peak. 

Just as Bates had been inspired to write her poem, Ward, too, was inspired. The tune came to him in 1882 while he was on a ferryboat trip from Coney Island back to his home in New York City after a leisurely summer day and he immediately wrote it down. He composed the tune for the old hymn “O Mother Dear, Jerusalem”, retitling the work “Materna”. Ward’s music combined with Bates’s poem was first published together in 1910 and titled “America the Beautiful.” _____________Wikipedia

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed His grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

O beautiful for heroes proved
In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved
And mercy more than life!
America! America!
May God thy gold refine,
Till all success be nobleness,
And every gain divine!

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America!
God mend thine every flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!

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Beauty and Kindness

One of my favorite spiritual writers, Joan Chittister, does not believe in writer’s block. She says, “You must jump into the middle of a line and trust that God will take you to the end of it.”

Good advice…that being said…I’m jumping in:)

I’m a little late with what was to be an Eastertide post, and the official start of summer is only a little over a month away, so I wanted to check in from the Big Front Porch with a few small stories about beauty and kindness…two things we can always use more of…

It has been a particularly beautiful spring around the Porch in the Delta…with the exception of the F1 tornado that skipped through town, dropping one of the old oak trees in the street two houses up from me. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

But in the days after the storm, spring really starting showing out! The chinaberry and sweet olive blooms (transported from home), the huge purple Dutch irises (originally from a housemate’s yard in Dallas 30+ years ago), wisteria (purple AND white), a banana shrub, and the sweet smell of Confederate jasmine drifting through an open window. All stunning examples of the beauty and artistry of God…

Along my driveway fence, I have one flaming orange rose bush (see above)…planted by another’s hands long ago…perhaps it was planted by our resident rose master, Ms. Jane Dunlap. ‘Miss Jane’ was recently awarded the Louise Godwin Award from the Keep Mississippi Beautiful organization. The Louise Godwin Award recognizes individuals who are exceptional when it comes to helping keep their communities cleaner, greener and more beautiful, and believe me, Cleveland is one of those especially beautiful communities thanks, in no small part, to our public rose gardens, lovingly nurtured by ‘Miss Jane’ for over 50 years.  I only hope that if I make to 90, I can still play a G/C/D chord on my guitar or a simple scale on the piano!

‘Miss Jane’ Dunlap

“There is a built-in danger in old age which, if we give in to it, makes aging one of the most difficult periods of life, rather than one of the most satisfying – which it should be. The danger of old age is that we may start acting old.” ______Joan Chittister 

A few weeks ago, an online post/picture of a scruffy, battle-scarred old orange tabby cat popped up on a local social network, asking if anyone knew the owner. Within hours, a half dozen folks from the neighborhood responded, identifying the old warrior by various names__Big Daddy, Rudy, Frank, Scar, Buddy. Seems he traveled a large territory on a regular basis, receiving food and attention at every stop. Recently, one neighbor noticed that he seemed weaker and perhaps ill. She was able to catch him, and through her generosity and kindness, had the ol’ fella neutered, wormed, and treated at a local vet. The online group monitored his progress and shared good wishes for recovery and a better life for Big Daddy/Scar/Rudy/Frank/Buddy__and it seemed he was doing well. But a week or so later, he took a turn for the worse and went away. Online, we all promised to keep watch for him, but we never saw him again. Our neighbor that had provided the most care for him found his body under her back steps, and gave him a proper burial in her backyard. We’ve all been sad about it, but grateful that his last few weeks of life were filled with more comfort and love than perhaps he had known earlier.

Buddy/Rudy/Scar/Frank/Big Daddy

“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.”_____Gandhi

Veterinary services for an old tomcat—homemade pimento cheese from a neighbor to say thanks for the music—A favorite hymn sung by request at the graveside of a stranger___Fresh cookies for grieving family members and friends of a beloved coworker___these are the things that make us into a community. Kindness.

Wars continue to rage on the other side of the world; gun violence is on the increase; social media pulls us towards ‘doomscrolling’ and the idea that ‘we are not enough’…

But take a look around at what we have____roses and music and old cats and good neighbors___it is enough.

“The service that the whole world needs from the elders is not the service of hours spent and time put in and documents finished and machines fixed. There are untold numbers of people who can do all of those things. No, the service of the elders is not a service of labor, it is a service of enlightenment, of wisdom, of discernment of spirits. Only the carriers of generations past can give us those things, because wisdom is what lasts after an experience ends.”
― Joan Chittister, The Gift of Years: Growing Older Gracefully

Look up___beauty is everywhere.

Look out___kindness abounds.

Peace be with you:)

Tricia 

P. S. Get ready for live local music…starting in June!

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All the trees in the fields will clap their hands…

11/24/21

Hello, friends…

It’s been a busy fall here on the Big Front Porch presenting local Deep Roots music shows, doing community and church work, and prepping home and hearth for the winter season ahead. I hope this post finds you well with your finest place settings ready at the table and delicious smells coming from your kitchen…and a strong WiFi connection in case some of your loved ones can’t actually BE at your table. 

I’ve been concerned that the ‘push’ for Christmas consumption seems to be so much earlier and more ‘in your face’ this year…feels like Thanksgiving is almost being overlooked altogether….anyone else? I hope this holiday of ‘gathering with grateful and thankful hearts’ is not diminished…

I was pondering this on a walk one afternoon, when I looked up and saw….the trees…(Isaiah 55:12)

I had such a good experience with my inaugural car camping trip back in the summer that I planned to block a few days off for another road trip to see some fall foliage over in Arkansas. But lo and behold, as the days passed, I could see that the trees on my own street and in our own little town were prettier than they had been in years, so I decided to stay put and enjoy what was right outside my own front door. The golds and reds of the crepe myrtles, ginkgos, sweet gums, oaks, and maples have been rich and deep this fall, along with the rust color of the Leland cypress trees which complimented the entire palette beautifully.

Staying put and observing the lessons of the natural world around me reminds me of one of the three primary monastic vows of the Benedictines…stability. Stability refers to the importance of community and commitment in life. When I came back to Mississippi in 2006, I believe it was a calling, and when I retired from Delta State in 2019, I believe I had a call to stay in this community….To  Be. Now. Here. And so here I am…

Part of my ‘staying put’ over the past decade has been to share whatever gifts I have been given in considering visions, sharing ideas, dreaming dreams, and then working towards the realization of those things. It has been my honor to serve on the board of the Cleveland Music Foundation, Inc., the governing body for GRAMMY Museum® Mississippi, since 2011 as a founding member.

My “sermon,” if you will, was and continues to be, “Music can bring us together and make us better,” and trying to insert that idea has been my primary contribution while serving on this board. Others who have way more ‘left brain’ that I, have done the ‘heavy lifting’ of procuring funds, making political connections, overseeing construction, and developing staff in order to make the museum the reality it is today. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of such a magnificent project.

 

Advent begins this Sunday…one of my favorite seasons, and the beginning of the new year for the Church. No argument from me that Easter is the great Alleluia! to the Gospel story, but to consider the Incarnation…that God would ever come to be with us at all…Emmanuel…wow. One of my Advent/Christmas/Epiphany readings will be For The Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio by W.H. Auden. I was not familiar with it until recently, but it is said to be perhaps one of his greatest works. I’m looking forward to some reading time spent with a well-written book and a cup of strong Community coffee.

+peace+ to you and those you love…I am thankful for each of you:)

 

Come, thou long-expected Jesus, born to set thy people free,
From our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee.

 

Tricia

 

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Nothing Like Old Friends…

8/15/21

Nothing like old friends…

Earlier this summer, one of my closest friends sustained a severe ‘head injury’ and it was my fault. After finishing a local performance, I placed my old friend, a 1981 Guild D-45 cutaway, in her case, and thinking I had zipped the case shut, became distracted in conversation with a fan at the event. When I picked up the case to leave, my old friend came out of the case and did a complete face plant on the concrete floor. Horrified, I reached down to pick her up and when I did, I became nauseous at the sight of what would have been diagnosed, in a human patient, as a severe head trauma..the headstock was almost completely severed from the neck of the guitar. 

When I got home, I immediately phoned the only guitar repairman that has ever worked on this guitar (30+ years), Mr. Greg Krochman of Classic Ax, in Nashville, TN. I sent pictures of the injury and asked if he could treat the patient. He said, “Hard to tell…you’ll need to bring her to me.” So a quick road trip to Nashville a few days later took me to his new location (after he was nudged off Music Row in the name of ‘progress’…read that however you like), where I left my friend in the capable hands of this master craftsman and then made the drive back to the Delta. My ‘sub’ guitar through the next several weeks was the guitar I went to college with, a 1970 Fender Newport acoustic. It’s always been my favorite ‘writing’ guitar, and it served me well while I waited on the outcome of ‘surgery’ on the Guild. Did I mention that American Airlines broke the headstock on the Guild in almost exactly the same place 17 years ago (another story for another time…)? Not knowing what the total ‘medical bill’ would be for surgery and hospitalization, my sweet church family at St. Luke UMC, in an exceptional act of kindness and generosity, took up a collection towards the repair and recovery of my old friend.

I got the call from ‘Dr. Greg’ in mid-July so I hopped in the car to go pick up the ‘patient’ who was being discharged after a successful surgery. Not only had the surgery been successful, but with some additional PT (neck adjustment, new strings, new pins, etc.), my old friend played like she did when she was new 40 years ago. I was overjoyed to say the least:)

I have several of these old friends, and like their human counterparts, each is different and special in his/her own way…and each contributes to my life is ways for which I am eternally grateful. Since you’ve been kind enough to put up with this rambling medical analogy, let me introduce these friends to you.

1981 Guild D-45 cutaway

Nothing like old friends…

I recently returned from the annual ‘Summer Gathering’ with my sweet YaYas (lifelong friends) down on the Mississippi Gulf Coast..I’ve lost count of how many years we’ve gathered, but suffice it to say it’s been a LOT of years. I know this because the main topics of our conversations have shifted from the challenges of middle age and career adjustments to the joys of grandchildren and the comparison of medications and health conditions brought on by the inevitable aging process. So very grateful that all three of us could once again gather for a few days of doing nothing together except lounging in the pool, binge watching Manifest and feasting on home-cooked vegetables, summer peaches, and fish from the Gulf.

Nothing like old friends…take a moment to call/text/email/visit one of your old friends today…they are PRICELESS gifts.

+peace+

Tricia

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Random Acts of Kindness…

July 6, 2021

When I was a teenager, the Jesus Movement was in full swing, invigorating young believers like me. My chosen Bible translation at the time was the Living Bible, and my mama sewed a cool cover for my copy out of a pair of old blue jeans, complete with a pocket for assorted inspirational materials. I often refer to that sacred ‘conversational’ text still today. I began to soak up how the ancient stories sounded to my ear in a more ‘common tongue’ rather than the regal King James version. I have a distinct memory of being sixteen years old and coming across a partial verse spoken by Saint Peter in the tenth chapter of the Book of Acts, explaining to the Gentiles that “…Jesus went around doing good….”

Somewhere…somehow…that stuck.

At random times over the course of my life from age 16 until now, when that fragment of a verse surfaced (and it continues to surface) in my conscious mind, I would think, “Wouldn’t it be great to just go around and do good?”

Many years ago, I took a test to identify what my spiritual gifts were based on the list of gifts in the New Testament book to the Romans. The results pointed to two gifts in particular…teaching and encouragement. Is it any wonder then, in the Divine scheme of things, that over the course of all my years working in the music biz to developing the DMI entertainment industry program at Delta State to now being in ‘retirement’ and working on behalf of the community….that putting those two gifts into practice along the way offers me the best opportunity of standing in the ‘crosshairs of my giftings’ from time to time? How sweet it is…

To that end, I am humbled by a recent honor I received from the Cleveland Exchange Club when they selected me to receive the 2021 Golden Deeds Award, one of their highest honors, given in recognition of service and volunteerism in the community. Three of my friends were given the task of getting me to the luncheon, and they successfully pulled off the ruse by inviting me to the club’s monthly meeting to be the guest speaker about the Deep Roots music project…I had no clue what was coming. If you look at the names on the list of previous recipients you will see men and women who have been and continue to be foundational to the success of this wonderful Delta community that has embraced and supported me so generously over the last 15 years. I am truly grateful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Random acts of kindness…that’s something we can all do…helping a respected elder with some mobile technology, assisting a young pastor in serving communion, singing softly to a friend in her last days on this earth, feeding the neighborhood tom cat that hangs around the back door, sharing home grown tomatoes with a neighbor…sometimes seemingly insignificant things, but each of which resonates like ripples in a pond. Just like Scout explained in To Kill A Mockingbird…”neighbors bring flowers in sickness and food in death and little kindnesses in between”…..I believe this is how the kingdom of God comes to us.

And because baseball is often like life…congrats to the Mississippi State University Diamond Dawgs for bringing home the D1 NCAA National Baseball Championship! Whether you regularly side with MSU or another team in the Magnolia state, you gotta admit…it was so much fun feeling the growing momentum of the entire state behind this Bulldog team. Once again, here’s a tribute to the first Mississippi State scholarship baseball star, Boo Ferriss, who knew a thing or two about random acts of kindness…just ask the hundreds and hundreds of young men who played for him.

See you down the road…pax,

Tricia

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Let Us Never Forget…

I remember the roar of jets flying over as one of them peeled away to represent the ‘missing man’…I remember the crack of the rifles firing a 21-gun salute…I remember feeling smothered by the heat of a Mississippi July day as we laid Mama’s baby brother, “Action Jackson,” to rest in our hometown cemetery. In my memory, it seems like most of the town turned out for his service. He died trying to guide one of his squadron members to safety. I was 12 years old. He was 41.

Countless brave and selfless men and women have given the ultimate sacrifice during the many wars our nation has seen…wars for which the reason for some is easier to grasp more than others, but every conflict devastating as is the nature of war. So we pause to remember…to memorialize…to give thanks for duty and service and sacrifice. Let us never forget…

The Deep Roots music movement is going well, and I’m having fun with it. Folks are glad to be outside after being ‘locked up’ for over a year, and it is such a joy to see how music can be a real connecting point in building a community. There are some great photos from some recent shows on the Deep Roots Facebook page HERE. Or our Instagram page HERE. Please ‘Like’ the pages for updates. If you haven’t seen the video series we’ve done featuring our local Deep Roots artists, here’s a link to the YouTube channel (please subscribe!): Music From The Ground Up. In fact, last Friday’s feature was me performing “The Heart of Dixie”…enjoy:)

For all the difficult things that have come with the pandemic, the ability to connect online almost anytime/anywhere has really been an amazing gift. Yes, I, too, have suffered from ‘Zoom fatigue, but this Thursday is a fun example of having the opportunity to connect with folks all across the world, and that amazes me. Jeff’s Place, a virtual coffeehouse hosted out of New York City, will be celebrating the 39th birthday of the Bluebird Cafe` by presenting an ‘in the round’ show online with me, Fred Knobloch, Amy Speace, Paul Jefferson, and Amy Kurland, the founder of the Bluebird Cafe`. The show will be this Thursday, June 3, at 1:00 pm CST. Free tickets are at this link:  https://tinyurl.com/jeffsplace2021. Hope you can tune in!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we head into the heart of summer, I hope that you will have some long overdue chances to gather with your friends and loved ones on a big front porch somewhere with the perfect tomato sandwich, a glass of sweet tea, and a fat juicy slice of watermelon (no salt for me, please). And traveling mercies as you head back out on the road!

From the Big Front Porch…stay safe, keep a song in your heart, take time to dance in your kitchen, and be kind to your neighbor. But…who is my neighbor?  Look it up…the Gospel of Luke…chapter 10:)

+peace+

Tricia

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Indian Summer…

10/12/20

This afternoon I’m sitting on my back porch enjoying the continual breeze of a ceiling fan as the temperature is a balmy 80 degrees. Not terribly unusual for the Delta this time of year, but I’m about ready to break out my favorite sweatshirt, how about you? Skeeter is napping in the chair next to mine, one of the many squirrels in my large oak tree is navigating his/her way down to nibble on some corn I put out, the sweet olive tree is full of fragrant blossoms, and I see two new buds on my knockout roses. All in all, it’s a lovely day…and what a gift that is.

Nice to be able to still find peace even as the pandemic continues and hurricanes blow through our region…even as political ads/texts/emails seem to grow more persistent and invasive (I’ve turned my tv off)…even as things seem out of control…at least from a flawed human perspective. But thanks be to the One who calls us to be. now. here. rather than pushing so hard and so fast that we often tend to be. nowhere. (And yes, I have that finger pointing straight back at me…)

I’ve had a great week of having the good fortune to be in what I call “the crosshairs of my giftings,” which I believe is found, for me, at the junction of music and encouragement. The Deep Roots music project, a community initiative to develop and promote local roots music, had the opportunity to shoot videos of eleven local artists performing at a lovely theatre space at the Delta Arts Alliance. A brief interview with each artist/band revealed a common thread of just how much we have all missed playing music WITH EACH OTHER. And even the film crew and a few select visitors said the same thing…”It’s great to hear live music again!”  So stay tuned for a series of short roots music programs (probably on YouTube), featuring some really talented local musicians, in early 2021…after we put the Year of our Lord 2020 behind us. If you’d like to read about the project and meet the initial roster of musicians, visit www.deltadeeproots.com, and if you sign up for the email list, you’ll receive a link to an exclusive playlist of three hours of local Delta roots musicians (yours truly included)!

In case you’re not familiar with the term, American roots music is described as a combination of musical styles which incorporates early music genres and traditions of indigenous groups with ‘shared roots,’ heavily influenced by both the culture and sound of the blues. American roots music grew from the “folk” music made by whites of European descent in the early 20th century, mostly of meager means and living in the rural, isolated South, then expanded to include the song styles of other cultures, particularly the blues and gospel music of African-American southerners. While it encompasses a broad range of music genres and styles, roots music now includes those genres which were given birth in the Mississippi Delta and the American South: blues, folk, gospel, traditional country, zydeco, R&B/soul, bluegrass, and singer/songwriter styles. Often marginalized on commercial radio, roots music contains a common thread that draws on the lived experience of ordinary men and women and has served as a vehicle for offering the disenfranchised a voice.

I’ve been cleaning out some Dropbox files today, and as I took a few moments to reflect on some photos and movies, I was reminded how I have been blessed over the past several years in seeing plans and hard work bear good fruit. I hope, with intention and focus, that will be the case going forward with new projects and ideas. As Thanksgiving approaches, my hope is that all of us are able to find something good that has come out of the upheaval of the last 8 months …and that we will cultivate a deeper sense of gratitude for each day that we are given.

 

 

 

 

 

…and remember, at least we have SOME football to watch… (And I really like this all-SEC schedule☺)

Thanks for reading…I hope you and all those you love stay safe and well…and that you find some time to enjoy the peace of a few moments on your own Big Front Porch.

____Tricia

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Crossing Over…

CROSSING OVER

The coronavirus pandemic continues and one day seems to melt into another without much distinction, but this week marked, for me, with significant passings…on the local, state and national level.

One of our sweet St. Luke church community members, Ann, passed away yesterday. She sat on the second pew near the front of the sanctuary, smiled when I sang, and she always had a kind word to say as folks were leaving the service. I was reminded of and saddened by how difficult it must be in these trying time for our elders and their family members to not be able to be with each other during that sacred time of crossing over at the end of life.

I had the opportunity a little over a week ago, at the invitation of Ann’s daughter, to stand outside the courtyard of the nursing home where she was living and sing her a few songs. As I was waiting for Ann to be brought outside, another family was gathered by the courtyard fence and was shouting words of love, through tears, to a frail man who appeared to be the patriarch of the family. As I got my guitar out of its case to prepare for Ann, I felt a tap on my shoulder and one of the younger boys of the family asked, “Would you sing my papaw a song?” Expecting a hymn request or other church song, I said, “Sure…what would you like for me to sing?” He said, “Do you know ‘He Stopped Loving Her Today?’”  It may seem strange, but in that moment I gave thanks for every night I sang that sad song in a bar in Nashville. “I’d be happy to.” As his sister held the phone up with the lyrics, I gave it my best shot. Turns out the old man had sung that song to his wife as she crossed over…there wasn’t a dry eye in the courtyard, including mine. I regrouped, turned my attention to Ann,  and sang some of her favorite songs as our pastor connected us in prayer. Rest in peace, Ann…I’ll miss seeing you on the second row.

Strange how lives connect over time and space, sometimes in ways we could have never imagined…

Last week also marked the passing of Charles Evers, former Mayor of my hometown of Fayette. The ‘soundbite’ (that term wasn’t around in the 60s) that was always attached to him was, “the first black mayor of a biracial town since Reconstruction.” I never learned the reasons why he chose Fayette to establish his political career, but the years that he was in office while my mother was the local newspaper editor is a story worth telling (I’m hopeful that a couple of my writer pals, more skilled in the screenplay format than I, will put pen to paper and flesh out the story). When my daddy’s body was brought through the community of Fayette for his funeral service, Mr. Evers lowered the flags in town to half-staff. When my mother died, Mr. Evers was one of her pallbearers and eulogized her, saying, “She was my worst enemy and my best friend.” I’m hoping that Mama and Daddy and Mr. Evers are sharing a toddy and catching up on some lively conversation about all things Mississippi. Rest in peace, Mr. Evers…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And finally, Congressman John R. Lewis…I had the chance to meet him in 2014 in Philadelphia, Mississippi, and was immediately struck, like so many others, with his calm demeanor and the dignity he displayed. From the son of an Alabama sharecropper to the ‘conscience of the Congress’…he was always working, as a child of God, towards the beloved community. The picture of his final crossing the over Pettus bridge yesterday is worth a thousand words…rest in peace.

 

Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?

Jesus replied:˜Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ˜Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”   Matthew 22:36-40

Until next time, take care of yourself and be kind to your neighbor:)

+Peace from the Porch+

Tricia

P. S.  If you’d like to see/hear a replay of me and the Harmony Junkies singing some oldies in support of restocking the library at Parks Elementary, here’s a link…enjoy!

https://www.facebook.com/756510202/videos/10163799577370203/

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Right away…write a way…

Well, the world has certainly changed since I posted my last blog…nothing like I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. And so now we are all charged with ‘social distancing’ as the norm for the coming weeks…or months…or more. 

As I was outside last week digging up the ground in my backyard for a small garden (first one I’ve had since coming back to Mississippi), I found myself feeling grateful and very comfortable being at home. The day seemed to slow down in a way that felt strangely familiar and satisfying. Hmmm….felt like I was living like a monk. And rather than feeling the demand to have everything happen right away, I heard the phrase differently in my ear….right away dissolved into write a way. So here is a brief offering of pen to paper.

Some of you may know that I am an oblate with the Sacred Heart Monastery in Cullman, Alabama. From the website at Sacred Heart, here’s the definition of an oblate: 

“Oblates of St. Benedict are Christian women and men who enrich their way of life by associating themselves with a Benedictine community. They offer
themselves (the meaning of oblation) in service to Christ by choosing to incorporate the values of Benedictine spirituality into their daily life. Oblates are not vowed religious nor do they live at the monastery; rather, they bring the spirit of Benedictine life to their own homes, churches, and workplaces.”

I realized that perhaps this new ‘social distancing’ was drawing me more closely into a traditional monastic order of the day, which is a balanced combination of work and prayer…Ora et labora…the Benedictine motto. And that felt peaceful and meaningful, offering an opportunity to savor being intentional and ‘in the moment.’ 

I’ve been amazed (but not really surprised) at how the music and creative communities have found beautiful ways to bring their gifts and talents to the world in this crazy time through the miracle of technology. Our spirits are lifted through SONG and I hope we will all share the sheer determination to make music and dance in the midst of what seems like madness. 

With all the wonderful sentiments out there on social platforms and broadcast media, I hope this little note brings you encouragement. I have news about a special project of which I had the pleasure to be part that has recently been released, and I will send that out soon. Until then, allow me to share a couple of things that have really spoken to me over the last few weeks. One is from the Rabbit Room, a group of like-minded thinkers that fosters Christ-centered community and spiritual formation through music, story, and art. This article was shared by Rev. Darian Duckworth…it’s titled “Love In The Time Of Covid-19,” written by Lanier Ivester, and the piece below is called, “So That’s,”by American editor/novelist Peter DeVries.

“So that’s it,” Dr. Cameron said, greeting me at the elevator. “Your daughter’s temperature’s been normal now for two days, so it’s probably let up. She’s just walked in the hall without any pains. She feels a lot better. Give it another day and you can take her home. But anyhow, we’ve eliminated everything serious.”

That was the happiest moment of my life. Or the next several days were the happiest days of my life. We could break bread in peace again, my child and I. The greatest experience open to us then is the recovery of the commonplace. Coffee in the morning and whiskeys in the evening again without fear. Books to read without that shadow falling across the page. Carol curled up with one in her chair and I in mine. And the bliss of finishing off an evening with a game of rummy and a mug of cocoa together. And how good again to sail into Tony’s midtown bar, with its sparkling glasses, hitherto scarcely noticed, ready to tilt us into evening, the clean knives standing upended in their crocks of cheese at the immaculate stroke of five. My keyed-up senses got everything: the echo of wood smoke in Cheddar, of the seahorse in the human spine, of the dogwood flower in the blades of an electric fan, or vice versa….But you can multiply for yourself the list of pleasures to be extorted from Simple Things when the world has once again been restored to you. 

©From The Blood of the Lambs, Peter DeVries. Distributed by Warner Books, Inc., a subsidiary of Warner Publishing, Inc., New York.

Peace and a song to you…along with a ‘virtual’ hug from six feet away,

Tricia

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The Work of My Hands…

As I’m writing, it’s rainy and cold in the Delta tonight, and this damp December weather tends to make my ‘well used’ knees feel a bit more stiff and sore. But on days like these I am reminded to give thanks for my mortal strength each time I am able to take a walk through our town’s lovely Christmas lights or just around the block, even if there are noticeable ‘snap, crackle, and pops’ with each step I take. Not really unexpected, given a lifetime of athletic activities, from youth sports through the running and fitness plans of adulthood and now the attempts to remain healthy through the less impactful practices of yoga, biking, and swimming.

But several weeks ago, I began to hear a new ‘clicking’ and ‘popping’…in some of my fingers…on both hands. Nothing to be alarmed about unless they start to lock up like trigger fingers, but this new soreness and stiffness from years of use (not to mention age) brought a new awareness of and gratitude for these amazing ten digits and how they are still able to move about the keys of a piano or the frets of a guitar. 

I’m trying to be more intentional these days about how I observe and ‘see’ things…to try and really SEE on a deeper level what God would show me. During this Advent season, I’ve had a lovely time doing several seasonal ‘gigs,’ and at a recent performance for some sweet senior citizens, I found myself noticing the hands of a lady who sat next to me at lunch. Even though I am now considered a ‘senior’ citizen myself, this lovely lady was a good 15-20 years my senior. Her hands were paper thin, showing several age spots, her nails were manicured, her veins clearly defined. On her left hand she wore a beautiful diamond ring and gold band. I noticed she was having difficulty cutting the pork chop on the festive plate in front of her with the plastic knife and fork that were provided. But she managed…and enjoyed her lunch…and was happy to be there. She was in the moment. 

My first thought was, “You’re not too far away from those hands yourself,” which was a bit disconcerting, but the real lesson for me was BE. NOW. HERE. In each moment. In every scale and in every chord…in every beat and in every melody.  I think sometimes in the Christmas rush, that phrase gets scrambled to read more like BE. NOWHERE. Funny how a tiny period can make such a difference.

“May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us – yes, establish the work of our hands.”  Psalms 90:17

I hope that the work of your hands is blessed and that every moment in this Advent/Christmas season is full of meaning for you, full of joy and love and hope and peace, even during the long dark days of winter. The Light is coming….Emmanuel, God with us….creaky knees, stiff fingers and all.

Pax from the Big Front Porch,

Tricia