O God of beauty, oft revealed
in dreams of human art
in speech that flows to melody
in holiness of heart.
One Day, This Sky Gonna Rise Up, Rise Up
one day, this sky gonna rise up, rise up
one day, new songs gonna rise up, rise up
we gonna tell the old stories round the fire
lights come up on the new day
rise the heart made of clay
new breath open up my bluebottle lungs
rise the songs of yesterday
sing again new tune
sing again world made new
Friday arrived with me in a blue funk. Three guesses – I’d said goodnight and goodbye to J again – the second it’s not so different from the first, and I miss him already. It’s hard saying goodbye to the ones that are the dearest and best again. However – perspective always makes a difference. I know that there are really good things about this trip .. this grand adventure for him. So that’s encouraging and something to place in high priority.
It’s strange though, to be starting off on this adventure of my own, and to not have him around to talk about it with – or to include in the process. I can only think and dream of how he might be involved from where he is, or when he comes back.
Anyway – the blues were partly caused by Thursday night’s review – ugh. And the rest of the day was occupied with a half-teary melancholy.
BUT there is sometimes a bright and cheery reason to stay more hopeful and bright-eyed than you otherwise might be – and in this instance, the bright reason is a marvellous idea that has been on a slow simmer.
One of the priorities in this new business, is creating creative soup – bringing people in and together and creating space for ideas to birth and generate. That in combination with the conversations I’ve been having with Paul Windsor re: Hymns… is birthing the Dusty Hymnbook. A whole new world and approach to theology of worship. Old school, real deal, deep, soul scratching worship. Heck yeah.
Wish us luck for the move. As of tomorrow, Sola Fida has an official home. Wow.