I was in the mood for the rich music of a Welsh male choir and imagine my surprise when it took me on a journey into the cover of a fifty year old book and a stranger's note. A few YouTube selections and I hit a musical motherlode, You Raise Me Up by the Treorchy Male Choir. It triggered images from my childhood of being carried down a rock face on my father's shoulders with a fast forward to my son carrying his precious daughter, AJM along a mountain path in Kananaskis. Listening to "I am strong when I am on your shoulders" turned on the tear tap.
The problem was that I wasn't supposed to be crying, I was supposed to be writing a blog. In search of inspiration, I browsed photos through the tears then I moved onto the book shelf. There on the shelf stood a classic by Norman Vincent Peale and Smiley Blanton.
The Art of Happiness, with a copyright of 1956 stood courageously alongside A Grief Observed by C. S. Lewis, Cure for the Common Life by Max Lucado, and The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu. I was curious about The Art of Happiness. I hadn't read it yet and I didn't recall how I came to own it. I pulled it off the shelf and flipped it open, and came face to face with a bit of history. Flora gave the book to Olive in 1958 as a gift with a kind note describing how the book had been a comfort to her and wishing Olive a better 1958.
I don't know Flora or Olive, but suddenly with the turn of a page they were part of my life and I was lost in imaginings. They were friends and something awful happened to Olive. Flora understood the depths of Olive's despair and cared about her. The elegant cursive words suggested 1957 sucked for poor Olive. Flora was trying to raise Olive up. She was willing to be the shoulder for Olive, that shoulder that helps another to be strong - the shoulder that "raises me up to more than I can be" (Secret Garden). I wonder what happened in 1958. Was it a better year for Olive? What kind of friendship evolved out of the rubble of sadness or ruin that was the prior year?
What kind of friends are you and I? Are we seizing the opportunities to raise each other up, to carry one another on our shoulders when times are hard? Flora's message wasn't signed "Love" it was signed "Affectionately", and I wonder if there was reserve in the choice of words. Maybe Flora didn't really know how to be the shoulder but wanted to be. When our family and friends go through stuff, I often don't know what to say. I don't know how to say it. I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing. I worry that my attempts to be the shoulder will be more of a nuisance than a help. My words and actions seem so inconsequential in the turmoil of the situation that I deem them inappropriate, trite, and ultimately useless because nothing I do or say will make the ugly stuff go away. But, I stand convicted this morning by the choir and by two strangers who have left their story in my book, on my shelf, in my life.
When Norman Vincent Peale, died at 95 the New York Times wrote that Mr. Peale "often admitted that his main target...was himself, that "even as recently as last night" he had found himself lacking in wisdom, courage or grace." I too, am my main target with this blog as I have remained silent or sidelined feeling tongue-tied, stupid, or ineffectual in the face of another's struggle. Find your brave heart, and always remember you have the ability to be a Flora, to raise another up, to be their shoulder and help them to be stronger. Let's together take courage and do our best to help each other to be strong.
The problem was that I wasn't supposed to be crying, I was supposed to be writing a blog. In search of inspiration, I browsed photos through the tears then I moved onto the book shelf. There on the shelf stood a classic by Norman Vincent Peale and Smiley Blanton.
The Art of Happiness, with a copyright of 1956 stood courageously alongside A Grief Observed by C. S. Lewis, Cure for the Common Life by Max Lucado, and The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu. I was curious about The Art of Happiness. I hadn't read it yet and I didn't recall how I came to own it. I pulled it off the shelf and flipped it open, and came face to face with a bit of history. Flora gave the book to Olive in 1958 as a gift with a kind note describing how the book had been a comfort to her and wishing Olive a better 1958.
I don't know Flora or Olive, but suddenly with the turn of a page they were part of my life and I was lost in imaginings. They were friends and something awful happened to Olive. Flora understood the depths of Olive's despair and cared about her. The elegant cursive words suggested 1957 sucked for poor Olive. Flora was trying to raise Olive up. She was willing to be the shoulder for Olive, that shoulder that helps another to be strong - the shoulder that "raises me up to more than I can be" (Secret Garden). I wonder what happened in 1958. Was it a better year for Olive? What kind of friendship evolved out of the rubble of sadness or ruin that was the prior year?
What kind of friends are you and I? Are we seizing the opportunities to raise each other up, to carry one another on our shoulders when times are hard? Flora's message wasn't signed "Love" it was signed "Affectionately", and I wonder if there was reserve in the choice of words. Maybe Flora didn't really know how to be the shoulder but wanted to be. When our family and friends go through stuff, I often don't know what to say. I don't know how to say it. I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing. I worry that my attempts to be the shoulder will be more of a nuisance than a help. My words and actions seem so inconsequential in the turmoil of the situation that I deem them inappropriate, trite, and ultimately useless because nothing I do or say will make the ugly stuff go away. But, I stand convicted this morning by the choir and by two strangers who have left their story in my book, on my shelf, in my life.
When Norman Vincent Peale, died at 95 the New York Times wrote that Mr. Peale "often admitted that his main target...was himself, that "even as recently as last night" he had found himself lacking in wisdom, courage or grace." I too, am my main target with this blog as I have remained silent or sidelined feeling tongue-tied, stupid, or ineffectual in the face of another's struggle. Find your brave heart, and always remember you have the ability to be a Flora, to raise another up, to be their shoulder and help them to be stronger. Let's together take courage and do our best to help each other to be strong.
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