I hadn't realised it myself. I'm not very good with dates, and years, and anniversaries. But yesterday my Facebook Timeline was full of it. It's 20 years since we were commissioned and ordained. 28th May 1993 at The Royal Albert Hall, London. As I listened to 'Our Songs' The ones written for us, and for the occasion I became a bit nostalgic. As I looked at the video And saw my friends and colleagues I almost felt a pang of grief For the people we were The things we shared. But this is a letter to the 25 yr old girl I was then From the woman I am now "You made it! By the skin of your teeth at times but you got there in the end. And this ending Full of brass, and drums, and singing and laughter and drama and dance is just the beginning. In the years ahead you will know joy Real joy Laughing so hard no sound comes out. Friendships that are only in their infancy here Will become your anchor in the days ahead. And people that ...
It's our Silver Wedding Anniversary on Tuesday. 25 years. I told someone the other day and she gasped, and said, "You don't look old enough" Which is absolutely the right response. We're having a few friends over next Friday night to celebrate. There will be food And dancing And fun And song. 'Our song' to be precise. As we met in the 80's, Our song is 'Solid' (Ashford and Simpson). It's the song we used to dance to at parties. It's the song that made us laugh. It's the song we always talk about when reminiscing. Our 25 years together hasn't been perfect You won't be surprised to hear that. There has been much joyful song. But sometimes the notes have turned dischordant. Sometimes we've sung in a minor key. More recently we have sung songs of lament. But to mis-quote Gloria Gaynor We have survived. We're still standing (Elton John) And we're still singing from the same hymn ...
Five Minute Friday. Set the timer for five minutes and write. This week's prompt is RHYTHM GO 'And the banner man, held the banner high With a 'Hallelujah' in his eyes And I wish that I could be a Banner Man.' If you can sing along to those words, chances are you'll now be singing them all day. Sorry! My Dad used to play it on his record player. I can still smell the vinyl The slight crackle as the needle finds the groove, And see him patting his leg in time to the music. It's a habit he's passed on to me. I can't hear a piece of music without Tapping my foot Or nodding my head Or patting my leg Or dancing if I'm really lucky. I'm so grateful to my parents for teaching me about the rhythm of life. And I don't just mean musically. My musical tastes are not my Dad's. (Thank the Lord for that) But somehow they taught me that the beat goes on. And I am part of that rhythm. The tempo can change Th...
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