Songs From A Grateful Heart

If I sing How Great Thou Art
While waves of doubt flow through my heart

Or sing about Amazing Grace
But in the mirror my shame I face

Or if I have no words to say
But only tears come when I pray

Or passing through the fires of fear
I run instead of drawing near

Your gentle spirit deep within
Reminds me of forgiven sins

And a new life that’s begun
Because you freely gave your Son

I know that I can rest in You
And find my peace in hope renewed

If on your promises I’ll stand
And come to you Just As I Am

High Witness - or The Girl Who Cried Flower

One of the best things about working summers at a guest ranch in Colorado was meeting the other young men and women from all over the country, or out of the country, who also spent their summers there.  Housekeepers, waitresses and cooks were needed as well as wranglers and ranch hands so the staff consisted of city dwellers, flatlanders (otherwise known as Midwesterners), foreigners and cowboys.  A clash of cultures at times but for the most part a wonderful learning experience.  Coming from Illinois, I fell into the flatlander category.  Before the ranch I had never been anywhere farther than Wisconsin so I was pretty naïve when it came to the ways of the West.  It turned out I was not alone.

 Most of us knew little or nothing about mountains, riding, ranching or the beautiful natural habitat that surrounded us. We learned as we went and it wasn’t always the easy way.  Cactus didn’t grow in the middle of the Illinois prairies that I was used to running barefoot through, and neither did nettles.  Pain is an amazing teacher and so is humiliation.

One evening I was late returning from a hike and it was getting dark faster than I expected.  As I finally reached the ranch road leading to the lodge I noticed that both sides were lined with beautiful white flowers.  They weren’t there in the morning when I started out so I thought they had all bloomed sometime during that day.  The entire kitchen staff followed me down the road the next morning just to see them, but they were all gone.  They looked at me as though I had lost my mind and from then on I was the butt of jokes about eating hallucinogenic mushrooms while on my hike etc., etc.  I knew that I had seen them, so I checked every morning so that I could prove it.  That only added fuel to the fire when I had to come back and tell them they were not there.  After dinner one night I went for a walk and there they were again.  I practically dragged a couple fellow staffers down the road to be witnesses to my sanity. One of the locals came with us and really got a kick out of listening to us go on about the mystical disappearing flowers.  Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore and told us that they were Evening Primroses and that they only bloomed at night.  At least I wasn’t hallucinating.

Virtue Smirtue or I Am Not Impatient

It starts with great anticipation
Building to a fever pitch
Then stirring my imagination
Takes me on a journey rich

Through fantasies of great elation
And depths of deep despair
My expectations rise and fall
While what’s to come is still unclear

When my mind’s eye slows and stops
I’m at the mercy of the clock
Anticipation turns to dread as
Temptation rears its’ ugly head

To taunt me into doubting if
The plans I thought I made
Did not exist or even worse
Were meant for yesterday

Suddenly scheduled events
My fears and doubts deflating
Evolve into reality
And end the awful waiting

We're Not In Kansas Anymore John Boy

A light snow was falling as we made our way up the steep mountain slope.  My fiancé led the way to the place near the top where he promised we would find the perfect Christmas tree.  We saw deer and Elk and the view became more spectacular the higher we climbed. He seemed to know every inch of the mountain and I couldn’t help feeling like I was living an episode of the Waltons. 

 Apparently he had become used to the fact that I babbled when I was excited because he patiently answered all of the random questions I asked as we as we climbed.  How high did he think we were, where the deer went when it snowed, what kind of pine trees were they, and so on and so on.   We did find the perfect tree and just as he started to chop it down the wind shifted and the snow started to come down with a vengeance.  In the short time it took to fell the tree, the snow had already covered the ground.  He said not to worry because going down was always quicker than climbing up. I was laughing and chattering as we made our way down but I could only see a few feet ahead in the blinding snow and found myself sliding more than walking.  My Walton’s episode had begun to feel more like a natural disaster movie, so I decided I’d better be quiet and take things a little more seriously.

Suddenly he stopped, looked back at me and then stood looking down the slope scanning it from right to left, before he started down again.  When we finally reached the truck I asked him if he stopped because he lost his way.  He said no and explained that he was taught that when you find yourself in a potentially dangerous situation, and conditions change drastically, you should always stop and get your bearings before continuing.  I couldn’t remember anything changing drastically before that time and was sorry I asked when he told me it was because I had stopped talking.

Avoiding a Catastrophe or They're Not Just Fluffy You Know

What can you say about cats
That hasn’t already been said
There are legends and myths
Even Hieroglyphics
And plenty of books to be read

Although they are not
Universally loved
And the reason for sneezing for some
Sheer numbers aside
Facts can’t be denied
To many they’re gifts from above

So why should I try to add even more
Beyond what's already been told
Compared to folklore and tales
My efforts might pale
So it might be considered quite bold

I love animals all
And I have to admit
Cats are close to the top of the list
I decided I must
Risk causing a fuss
And add my own words to the mix

As much as we love them
We must face the facts
Their finicky habits won’t keep it in check
We’ll love them to death
If we just can’t accept
Cats get Fat

Hope in Deep Waters

We were indoctrinated at an early age.  We sat on blankets with our bamboo poles lying next to us, dangling the tips over the top of the seawall.  The line went straight down to the bobber so that the tiny tug of the child size sunfish or perch would bend the thin tip of the bamboo.  Eventually we were allowed to stand and use the entire pole to try for Striped Bass or Crappies.  We swung them onto the shore at the end of the long poles while learning to duck the flying catches of others.  Bait was everything from tiny pieces of old lace, minnows, worms and even leeches.  I personally drew the line at leeches even though it threatened my status as a proper fisherman.

 A rite of passage was to own our first rod and reel and learning to cast was as important as learning to swim.  It also allowed us to try for the larger deep water fish like Pike and Catfish.  Along the way we learned to read the river.  When the water was too high or the Carp were spawning in the shallows, the fishing would not be good.  When the May flies appeared or the water was very still the time was right.  The reward for all this was a Sunday afternoon fish fry and the satisfaction of knowing that we had provided the delicious, fresh ingredients.  It didn’t hurt that along the way we learned patience and perseverance, and how to be quiet for long periods of time.

As my life stands right now, I can’t even imagine having the time to sit on a riverbank, pole in hand, letting just the sun dictate my time.  I am also pretty sure that the patience and perseverance I remember having back then might fail me.   But I do know where I can go to find the same kind of peace and timeless contentment.  No matter if life is rushing by or its troubles are multiplying I can “Cast my burdens upon the Lord and he will sustain me…..” (Psalm 55:22 KJV)

Love Letters

Sometimes when you are far away
I just don’t know what to say

Sometimes I hear a melody
And we’re together as I sing

Sometimes you’re unbelievable
Outrageous and hysterical

Sometimes you are quite personal
Somehow reaching to my soul

Sometimes your dark intensity
Reveals a passion that runs deep

Sometimes it’s very clear to me
That you and I were meant to be

Sometimes when I need to be heard
I cannot live without you, words

 

 

Reunion

The past ignited by a spark of recognition
 Is dimmed by the realization of change
Shared memories fan the flames of reconnection
And from the embers glow the warmth of family remains

Raczon Family Reunion – October, 4^th, 2014

If Time Stood Still

When the days go rushing by
And time my schedule must deny
I think that it would be a thrill
If just for once time would stand still


The bills still due would wait a while
The clothes I own would stay in style
My kids would stay both sweet and small
My hair would not turn grey at all

But then the future would not be
No goals or possibilities
Problems now would stay unsolved
My hopes and dreams would just dissolve

I guess time must continue on
And mark the seasons and the dawns
To move me through both joy and grief
And fill my heart with memories


When my life comes to an end
And all my time on earth is spent
In God’s arms I’ll find true peace
As time stands still for eternity

Whatever You Do Don't Grab That Branch

 

Everyone at the ranch was excited about the opportunity to go tubing. The nearby river, that was usually too shallow, was swelled by recent rains, and just high enough for a good ride.  I had great memories of lazily floating on an old car tire inner tube down the deep, meandering, waters of the Fox River back home.  Those memories began to fade when I saw them loading the gigantic tractor sized inner tubes into the horse trailer.  The memories disappeared completely when I saw the river. This deep water wasn’t calm and smooth it was swirling and dark with a relentless canyon carving flow.  

As she was holding the tube so I could climb on, my friend told me to just hang on and down around the bend the current would wash the tubes up onto a sandbar.  The trucks would wait for us there. Knowing I was inexperienced she added, “Whatever you do don’t grab a branch if you get close to the shore, if you are afraid of getting hit by one just duck down as low as you can into the center of the tube”.

With that said she pushed me out into the current.  I couldn’t believe how fast I was going, spinning with the swirling current then bouncing across small bubbling rapids that formed between the scattered boulders.  Suddenly I was headed toward the riverbank where there were overhanging branches.  I remembered the part about ducking but as I sank lower into the center of the tube I felt myself slipping.  Instinctivley I reached for a branch to pull myself up.  It only took a split second to realize why I should have remembered the 1st part of the warning as the rushing current pulled the tube right out from under me.  The branch and my grip were not strong enough to hold me and I splashed into the icy cold water.  Immediately I felt myself being pushed sideways instead of sinking to the bottom.  The sideways momentum gradually brought me to the surface not far from my tube.  I grabbed it and finished the ride clinging to its side and being dragged up onto the sandbar like a fish on a line.

The moral of the story:  When we feel out of control, sometimes we need to fight our first instincts and heed the warnings that come from experience, otherwise we may find ourselves in over our heads.