The Setting Sun

For once, I am speechless, I do not know what to say. It seems like I am trying too hard and all my effort becomes a gale against me. So I am retreating a bit, retreating into my past, of school, of church and music.

When I was a child there was little for me to hold on to. As the de facto manager of the choirs I was given a key to the church, that space a meditation and a revelation. The pipe organ was mute, as was the piano and harpsicord; the music and hymnals were musty with age and use.

Sometimes as I sat alone in the church at the piano, minor keyed hymns would speak to me as they do now. I am a poor wayfaring stranger, I have no home, I have no rest. I feel the frustration and the fear of my life acutely right now. It is ok to feel these things right now. The wind of woe is also the wind of change.

Paradoxes show themselves as points of order. Darkness is frightening, but how else can I find a light, my light, part of a greater light? The storm might be fierce, but I know I must praise you through it, to get to the other side.

As another frustrating day ends I must bear all of these things in mind. The light will be found, the storm will pass and the winds will blow in my favor once again.


One Response to “The Setting Sun”

  1. John Bodin Says:

    Very glad to see those last two sentences spill from your keyboard, Edgar — latch onto them and don’t let go. I prefer not to focus on darkness, choosing instead to consider those times of my life that are trying as “my time in the desert.” I also try to remind myself daily that God will not give me burdens that I cannot bear, and that I am stronger than I think I am. The same applies to you, don’t ever forget that.

    — JB

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