Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical (hermionesviolin) wrote,
Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical
hermionesviolin

I have really wonderful people in my life.

And not just because they are so good at reassuring me about how wonderful and capable i am.
There's the wind and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen,
Who say they have no claim to know what's right.
There's the weak and the strong and the beds that have no answer,
And that's where I may rest my head tonight.

I saw all the bright people, in imposing flocks they landed, and they got what they demanded,
And they scratched at the ground. Then they flew, and the field grew as sweetly for the flightless,
Who had longing yet despite this, they could hear every sound.

There's the wind and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen,
Who say they have no claim to know what's right.
There's the weak and the strong and the beds that have no answer,
And that's where I may rest my head tonight.

...

There's the wind and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen,
Who say they have no claim to know what's right.
There's the weak and the strong and the many stars that guide us,
We have some of them inside us.
I neglected to mention that the last time i talked to Terry about my trip he talked, in that way that people do, about me meeting a nice French boy while i'm over there, "or a nice French girl" he added. [I didn't ask why the Brits weren't deemed worthy of my romantic intentions.] Can i tell you how happy the absolute blasé-ness of that statement made me? Especially from him.

Sharon, i wish you could see the birthday card the Mankins gave me. On the front is a woman in this wild purple getup (which is what first drew Cheryl to the card, purple being my favorite color, plus the whole "When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple" thing) and it says, "Someone like you makes this world a better place!" Then on the inside it says "Weirder... but better! Happy Birthday"

A woman i adore has breast cancer. My impression is that it's fairly contained, operable, hasn't spread. But still. Terry sometimes looks vulnerable and it's terribly precious, but she seemed, more than vulnerable, fragile. Like underneath she was breaking apart. She said to me, "Say a few prayers, if you pray. And if you don't... i don't know... do a good deed for someone else. Maybe that counts. I don't know what counts anymore." I find myself wanting to make her a prayer bracelet, light candles at every shine i can find in England. It's not that i fear she's going to die, or that i think the way to make God intervene is to pay homage to every incarnation/intercessionary which might be a true one. I don't know. I think i have this desperate feeling inside me, because i can't DO anything. It's helplessness that drives us to God, no?

We can do no great things, only small things with great love.
-Mother Teresa
Daddy was a soldier he taught me about freedom
Peace and all the great things that we take advantage of
Once I fed the homeless, I'll never forget
The look upon their faces as I treated them with respect
And
This is my Vietnam
-Pink, "My Vietnam"
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