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He wore it faithfully for over sixty years,
A gift from his first small flock…tick tock,
To show their love for this man of God
Who had shared the Good News, tick tock.
But he shared more than just Good News.
He shared their joys and grief…tick tock
When words failed but love and friendship didn’t
The times when just being there was enough…..tick tock
From flock to flock, place to place he went where called
And always on his wrist, the watch kept him on time….tick tock
For weddings, funerals, joys and sorrows,just different faces
of the greater flock needing a gentle shepherd…tick tock
Oh what a price to be paid being a simple shepherd
.Each flock left its’ scars from bearing so many burdens….tick tock
But through it all a sense of calling kept him moving forward
While the watch ticked off, seconds, minutes, hours… tick tock
Without conscious thought he would wind the stem,
Note the time and go on serving, uninterrupted…. tick tock
Closer day by day to his promised reward for faithfulness
(...)
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Life was interrupted in March by a call that no one ever wants.
Despite countless brushes with eternity, we couldn't believe he was gone,
or perhaps it was just that you can never prepare for that kind of loss.
So now we count days since he left us and shred the occasional tear,
reminded daily by memories stirred by familiar faces or songs penned by
his God-given gift of music he lovingly shared with all.
But life goes on and we accept the loss and let time soothe our hearts.
The pain never leaves completely but becomes like an old friend,
silent, always in the background, looking for ways to remind us.
But just as surely as evening follows day, life follows death
and the circle, never ending, completes another rotation.
New life is breathed into existence, filling our hearts again with joy.
So it goes, on and on, life and death, God's plan being fulfilled.
Souls passing in the coming and going accompanied both ways
by Angelic presence watching and sharing in the grief and joy.
So we wait in anticipation of new life, foretold by a soothsayer to
a fostering family who waited with open arms the little angel
who had innocently joined this circle of life.
So without understanding but leaning solely on faith
we welcome every new day filled with grief, pain, joy
(...)
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In a little while
Today will be tonight
There will be darkness
Where before there was light.
In a little while
It will be tomorrow
Bringing us unexpected things
Perhaps of joy, maybe sorrow.
In a little while
This year will be last
As weeks becomes months
years become centuries so fast
In a little while
The weather will turn hot
Global warming they tell us
that’s the weather we’ve got.
In a little while
a job became a career
Not what I had planned
(...)
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I met Eddie on a cold, wet December morning in 2005.
He was sitting on a bench in a public park quietly humming
Lying beside him was an old beat up Martin guitar
that he slowly picked up, smiled and started strumming.
He was tall and lanky and wore dirty, shabby clothes
that looked a size too big for his bent slender frame.
His face was leathered and told a story of a hard life.
His boots were well beyond keeping out cold or rain.
When he saw me sitting nearby he held up his guitar
and asked me if I had a request or favorite song
That’s when I noticed the guitar only had five strings
He was missing the little E string…it was completely gone
I asked him how he could play with only five strings.
He said he had gotten use to just five and asked if I was ready
“don’t know what I’d do with that sixth string….he laughed.
Besides he said, I’m partial to my nickname….”Five String Eddie”.
I told him I had no particular request and told him to pick
so he began to play the hymn “ Amazing Grace”.
Five String Eddie would never win on “America’s Got Talent”
(...)
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The Stranger With The Devil's Eyes
Late upon one stormy night when no heavenly stars could be seen,
A lonely rider on a broken mare crossed over a border stream.
His back was bowed, and fatigue it showed, on every part of his frame.
But he struggled fast, through a howling blast, not even God could tame.
For he meant to make the town of Keepsake, despite the warring skies.
He was hunting the men, who murdered his kin, this stranger with the devil’s eyes.
For two long years he bit bitter tears, but he was always a step too slow
That hound from hell, that no lawman could fell, the outlaw named Cactus Joe.
The town folks tell how many men fell, when they faced his lightning draw.
His guns would blaze and then out of the haze, a look of shock and awe.
But there was one man, with a leathery tan, from years under cloudless skies
Who was hunting for Joe and ready for show, the stranger with the devil’s eyes.
On his hip he wore a Colt Forty-Four with ten notches carved in its’ grip.
Each one for a man from Cactus Joe’s band, though Joe always gave him the slip.
Now everyone knows how the face of death shows on those who pay its’ dues.
With a worn-thin look, from ten lives he took, there was one thing left he must do.
Word came down that Joe was in town and he promised that someone would die.
So to Keepsake he came, the man with no name, the stranger with the devil’s eyes
Word spread through the town, where Joe was found, with two aces and a pair of fours.
He played his hand and began to stand, saying “Boys, I got to settle this score.”
(...)
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