During the long winter months on Long Island, my cousins and my sister, and I, would play Rummy 500 endlessly.
Our ages were scattered but we were all in our teens.
Sitting with the ashtray near enough (but not interfering with our 3 of a kind fans), we would smoke and sing along to Sinead O'Connor.
Over and over again.
It is one of my favorite memories.
Partially because it was one of the few times in my life that I felt that there were others that felt exactly like I did.
We would feel Sinead's sadness, belt out in her frustration and whisper when she whispered.
(But only Kathy could dance exactly like her to Emperor's New Clothes.)
Now that I am old, and not gray, but artificially blonde, I don't have many of those moments when I connect with a musician and a live human being.
Typically, its me and iTunes or Youtube.
Occasionally, there will be that time of worship, when I join in with believers, and the Spirit unites us with the song. Oh how I love those times!!
There are not enough of them.
One morning, while all alone in my living room, before the sun could be seen, I was reading a verse in Psalms and I came up with a tune for it.
That had never happened to me before.
I am musically illiterate.
So, I felt a great need to share this with someone who did know music.
But between those 2 moments, I had a few fantasies.
First, the person was going to be super impressed. Big eyeballs and everything.
Second, I would be invited to share it with a worship team.
(I practiced humble statements to go with such adoration.)
Lastly, I fantasized I was not the geek I really am.
Of course, it did not go that way.
I nervously mentioned it to my musically inclined friend. She was so distracted at the time that I had to repeat myself.
"I came up with a cool tune to some Psalm verses".
"Do you want to sing it to me right here?" She said as she was packing up.
Uh, that was not in my script of what she would reply.
"No, not here, some other time."
She seemed relieved and hugged another friend as they walked up.
I walked away in reality.
Or did I walk away feeling what this devotion says, (written in the perspective of Jesus):
"To Me each one of My children is an individual with varying characteristics and varying needs. To one and all the way to the highest must be a lonely road, as far as human help and understanding are concerned.
None other can feel the same needs and desires, or explain the inner self in the same way. That is why man needs Divine Companionship. The Companionship that alone can understand each heart and need." *
Ironically, the verse I had a tune to was:
"Trust in Him at all times, O people;
pour out your hearts to Him."
Psalm 62:8
And that is what I did after my fantasy did not come to life.
Poured out my heart to Him.
Maybe the song was a little diddy just between us. God and I.
My song to Him. Only me, only Him.
Divine Companionship.
Our thing, just like with my sis and cousins minus the cigs.
A little more holy than an ashtray.
I guess ashes have their place.
Like on foreheads on ash Wednesday.
I don't get mine marked up but I like to see others at the grocery store with theirs.
But one day I will have something really cool on my forehead.
"They will see His face, and His name will be on their foreheads."
Rev 22:-4
All His promises are true.
And when this life comes to an end for me, and I close my eyes here.
"Nothing would, nothing would please me better, than I find that You're there when I wake."
When I wake, and find Him there, with His name on my forehead… I might sing my song to Him, or Sinead's.
"It's just like You said it would be."
Thanks for reading!
*http://www.twolisteners.org/Nov%20Eventide.htm#November%2013
