Day 19.
Woosah. Well, for me there's really only one song that's ever made me think about life, because "you can bet you life times that and twice its double, that God knew exactly where he wanted you to be placed."
I cannot explain it because I don't think it is for me to explain, but I remember reading the Bible with my Granny. I might've been in either kindergarten or first grade, but I recall that I was just getting the hang of reading, and I was loving it. And I loved anyone who would still take the time to sit and read something along with me. We sat in her special seat next to the wood-burning stove, and my finger followed hers across those thin, crackly pages as I asked why some things were in red ink while others were in black. She helped me wrap my tongue around Deuteronomy and Nebuchadnezzar, and suddenly the stories of Sunday school began to take hold.
She made them tangible to me and her patience and calm were neverending. She always made time for me, and I always felt special because of it. I still do.
I remember her telling me how God knew who I was to be and with which family to place me. That it was no accident; that I was both on purpose and with purpose. When she told me he knew every hair on my head and the intentions in my mind and heart, I wondered aloud if he knew I was hungry and she laughed that hmph, hmph, hmph laugh that always sat deep in her belly and the back of her throat.
And I remember the first time I listened to this song all the way through, and how I instantly thought of her when he spoke that lyric. And I was amazed. Stevie had gotten the same message that I had, and I wondered if it had been his granny who'd told him too. Grannies are wise; they always be knowing something about everything. I figured that was a big ol' network of them sharing stories and lessons to pass on to their children and grandchildren and beyond. On earth and beyond. Something tells me that network is ever so real.
This song makes me think about life and love ... and loss.
One of my work moms and I bonded over it, and we both referenced it often as she listened to me while I tried to sort myself out. It played at her memorial service. I had spent hours beforehand aligning the snapshots of her life to coincide with certain lyrics and notes, and as that video montage played I felt grateful and glad.
So when I'm feeling a bit melancholy I play it and it reminds me to keep going. I play it whenever an occasional doubt sets in about what I should or must do. And I play it when I'm feeling happy and good, because it helps me remember to count on all the good things that have come to pass and all the good that remains.
