Sunday

[Perknose]

First of all, let me just say that I miss my dog.

And, yes, my rooster, too, which I have to pay people to come feed.

You see, I'm down here in sunny, HUMID Florida, quite against my will. The exquisite irony of the situation is that I'm actually LOOKING FOR A LAWYER. In my day job back home, I work with lawyers as a matter of course. I don't much like lawyers.

But, it's Sunday. Even lawyers stop being lawyers on Sunday. So I got on up out of myself, and went to church, specifically Unity Church of Clearwater. They had a featured guest, a singer-songwriter who, gasp, has been on 20/20, Oprah Winfrey, and Entertainment Tonight.

I don't like or watch any of those three TV shows. But this singer, she was pretty damn good, as was the house band of the church.

This is what stuck with me, the words to this one song:

I can't do
All the good
That the world needs now,

But the world
Needs all the good
That I can do.

Those words stuck with me all the way back to this computer, as did this final thought:

Life goes on.

Hey, it's Sunday.

 

[FoBoT]

its sunday here too, weird

The story is told of a ship that was in distress during a severe storm off the coast of Holland:

"A rowboat went out to rescue the crew of the fishing boat. The waves were enormous, and each of the men at the oars had to give all his strength and energy to reach the unfortunate sailors in the grim darkness of the night and the heavy rainstorm.

"The trip to the wrecked ship was successful, but the rowboat was too small to take the whole crew in one rescue operation. One man had to stay behind on board because there simply was no room for him; the risk that the rescue boat would capsize was too great. When the rescuers made it back to the beach, hundreds of people were waiting for them with torches to guide them in the dreary night. But the same crew could not make the second trip because they were exhausted from their fight with the stormwinds, the waves, and the sweeping rains.

"So the local captain of the coast guard asked for volunteers to make a second trip. Among those who stepped forward without hesitation was a nineteen-year-old youth by the name of Hans. With his mother he had come to the beach in his oilskin clothes to watch the rescue operation.

"When Hans stepped forward his mother panicked and said, 'Hans, please don't go. Your father died at sea when you were four years old and your older brother Pete has been reported missing at sea for more than three months now. You are the only son left to me!'

"But Hans said, 'Mom, I feel I have to do it. It is my duty.' And the mother wept and restlessly started pacing the beach when Hans boarded the rowing boat, took the oars, and disappeared into the night.

"After a struggle with the high-going seas that lasted for more than an hour (and to Hans's mother it seemed an eternity), the rowboat came into sight again. When the rescuers had approached the beach close enough so that the captain of the coast guard could reach them by shouting, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called vigorously against the storm, 'Did you save him?'

"And then the people lighting the sea with their torches saw Hans rise from his rowing bench, and he shouted with all his might, 'Yes! And tell Mother it is my brother Pete!' "