Så som i himmelen

 


If you ever want to taste what it is like to sing in a choir, have a look at the Swedish movie , As it is in heaven (Så som i himmelen)
It is in essence a musical which chronicles the personal lives of a handful of choristers, who sing in a village choir. 
This scene from the film is powerful , it’s called  Gabrella’s Song, and it’s an empowerment piece where the character  Gabriella finally has the confidence to stand up to her abusive husband aided eventually by the villagers who initially ignored her plight    




from Going Gently https://ift.tt/39e3Xwi

giving up

 A friend reminded me

in my fragility

in my brokenness

I am what 

God wants

For the first time

I'm so tired

that surrender

is the only option

That comes to mind

The tears come

not wiping them

being one 

He's waited

for me

to be fully ensconced 

in torment

that the only recourse

I'm seeking

is one 

man cannot give

I was told

I'd come to this point

didn't know when

God always wins

He just gives enough

So wayward children

like me

find the light

Once they've

Had enough

of trying

to do it all

their way

embrace weakness

where strength is found

and bolstered 

for a lifetime



from R's rue https://ift.tt/39daFT5

work

 The Lord says

enjoy your work

so let my imagination

go wild

the beaches

of St.Barth's

await me

basking in glamour

glitz and leisure

Falling asleep

as calm waves

bring my toes

peace and hope

turn off

the thinking cap

and let dreams

become memories



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A Gift Of Flowers

 


I had a friend over to stay last night.

Now before anyone gets their covid knickers in a spin. 
It was the chap that was ‘ conscripted ‘ into my original and allowed bubble way back in the summer 
Do you remember the one who got village tongues wagging?
He was the one I decided just to be friends with.

And we are friends. 
We talked and talked and laughed and ate and for the first moment in a long time I felt more human.
I felt more human too because of the fact we laughed and talked and hugged and cuddled too.
The hug and cuddle not no more significance than a hug and a cuddle but it reminded us singletons that we are here and valued and pertinent 

It’s 8.30 am and I’ve just taken the dogs out for a quick wee walk
Cup of coffee in hand. 
My friend is still asleep in the spare room, 
So I may take them out for a proper walk.

On the counter top is a glass jug with a bunch of blue iris drinking from it and I smile .
A gift of flowers from a man.

How nice


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Honesty

Looking up from my leather La-Z-Boy throne on Sunday morning, I noticed how splendidly sunlight was spotlighting our old model of Pinocchio. He stands on the rosewood mantelpiece in our front room but for many more years he resided in my mother's display cabinet where she kept a variety of fascinating treasures.

I guess that everybody associates Pinocchio with lying. His lies caused his wooden nose to grow but in the end he learnt the errors of his ways and his embarrassingly long snout shrank back to more normal proportions.

Pinocchio's lies were never malicious. It could be argued that they were rather typical of the kind of lies that little boys and girls tell as they develop their moral senses and how to function acceptably in this social world. Ultimately, lying impacts upon our sense of self-worth though there are arguably situations in which being economical with the truth is the wisest way to proceed.

Do you lie? How do you feel about lying?

One of my pet sayings is "Honesty is the best policy" and for many years it has been one of the guiding principles of my daily life. I sleep better in my bed and feel better about myself because of this. 

Last week when walking between Everton and Gringley-on-the-Hill, I passed through a sea of ripened maize. I visualised boiled golden cobs steaming in bowls, slathered with salted butter and reached out to twist one of those cobs from the mother plant. Surely, the farmer wouldn't miss four corn cobs would he? I was about to take my "Converse" rucksack off my shoulders and put ripe corn cobs inside it when a voice inside my head said "No!"

I felt better about myself as I walked on minus the corn, realising that future munching upon stolen cobs would not sit well with me.  As I have discovered before, it is better for my mental well-being to live as honestly as possible. Replaying lies and small acts of dishonesty would be tormentuous.

None of us are saints. As human beings, we err and if you peel away the layers you will undoubtedly find that no one  is immune from lying - not even The Pope or The Archbishop of Canterbury. We might avoid the corn but deeper than that, deep inside what lies might we find?

There's more to the original Italian tale of Pinocchio than initially meets the eye. 



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