I am so sorry I don't know how to put this on so you can just press
"Play" to see and hear this. And the link doesn't work.
I am leaving it anyway because this is what we listen to, what gives us the endurance to Keep On Keeping On: how we clean the guinea pig habitats and Runabouts when I am too weak to stand, too weak to sit up, too weak to breathe...this song BRINGS IT!
LISTEN TO THE LYRICS...I'm too weak to write them. Our friend walzed into the Vancouver Olympics ticketless only to get a front row seat the night she performed this. So we listen to it because of the Truth, that "Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah..." when I am elbow deep in guinea pig poo, wondering from where the energy will come to do what must be done each evening.
Yet happy and grateful because this song always reminds me that when I fall, when I fail, still somehow the cleaning and chores get done and continue to be because somehow, somewhere, in that Great Mystery wherein we may sometimes hover in the worlds between Life and Death is a great and glistening, agonizingly pleading...and ALWAYS answered prayer for help: Hallelujah. We have a Sanctuary. We have each other. We have clean living space, 10 refilled water bottles, fresh hay, newly filled food bowls, anything and everything that needs doing, gets done. Since I don't know how this miracle sustains us in the exile of illness, HALLELUJAH!
"Play" to see and hear this. And the link doesn't work.
I am leaving it anyway because this is what we listen to, what gives us the endurance to Keep On Keeping On: how we clean the guinea pig habitats and Runabouts when I am too weak to stand, too weak to sit up, too weak to breathe...this song BRINGS IT!
LISTEN TO THE LYRICS...I'm too weak to write them. Our friend walzed into the Vancouver Olympics ticketless only to get a front row seat the night she performed this. So we listen to it because of the Truth, that "Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah..." when I am elbow deep in guinea pig poo, wondering from where the energy will come to do what must be done each evening.
Yet happy and grateful because this song always reminds me that when I fall, when I fail, still somehow the cleaning and chores get done and continue to be because somehow, somewhere, in that Great Mystery wherein we may sometimes hover in the worlds between Life and Death is a great and glistening, agonizingly pleading...and ALWAYS answered prayer for help: Hallelujah. We have a Sanctuary. We have each other. We have clean living space, 10 refilled water bottles, fresh hay, newly filled food bowls, anything and everything that needs doing, gets done. Since I don't know how this miracle sustains us in the exile of illness, HALLELUJAH!
Hallelujah... I know how you feel! We have to just keep moving, or rust.
ReplyDeleteBoy, if anyone does, it would be you, Ms.A, congratulations on being able to finally bring your son home from the hospital. God Bless Him! And all of you for being there for him and the strength, courage, and energy you will need to care for him at home. Anyone interested in a story about surviving insurmountable odds, please check out under "My Blog List" the miracle contained in "Sarcastic Granny's" blog. A true miracle.
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