Lent: I don't speak the language. I hold no currency.
The Mississippi delta was shining
Like a national guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the Civil War
I’m going to Graceland
Graceland is, of course, Elvis Presley’s mansion in Memphis, TN. But, it’s also been used to describe heaven and also, living in a state of divine grace on Earth. It’s interesting to think of finding grace in the mists of a civil war, a conflict with ourselves. Sometimes, God’s grace comes in a flood, often just in drops. Usually abundant but somehow never enough.
Poorboys and pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland
The pilgrimage thing again? Is this a journey to God or one lead by God? I sometimes wonder who is coming along with me on this trip. Are the people as poor in spirit as I am on the same road with me? Have they been wounded in a civil war? Do they have the time? Sometimes it’s an easy pace, often it’s a climb which requires help.
And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties
Travelers and pilgrims always face dangers and trials. Modern transportation limits most of them but spiritual travelers are haunted by many spirits - hurt, fear, doubt. A smart traveler isn’t loaded down with thing. Things can be stolen. Things can be lost. You come to accept the spirits as background noise on the journey. Ruthless noises to be sure, but always in the background.
And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow
Have I lost God’s love? I’m not sure. I depend on his grace but the rips in my life echo. People can see them and ask me what’s wrong. I can’t answer. I don’t have the words. I would make them understand, if I understood it myself.
There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I’m falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
“Oh, so this is what she means”
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland
Grace shows up at the weirdest times. Just when I think the road has hit a dead end a light shines. Sometimes it’s a well placed smile. Sometimes it’s a song that seems right for the moment. Sometimes it’s just a strange warmth on a cold night.
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland
Ever started driving not knowing where you’re going? That’s my prayer life. I start talking and just ramble on. But I know I’m going somewhere. Prayer is the vehicle which moves me along on this pilgrimage. Unfortunately, I don’t have a steering wheel.
And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland
Graceland by Paul Simon
Note: I’ve been listening to this song a lot and I realize I’ve scrambled the lyrics so don’t freak.
Like a national guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the Civil War
I’m going to Graceland
Graceland is, of course, Elvis Presley’s mansion in Memphis, TN. But, it’s also been used to describe heaven and also, living in a state of divine grace on Earth. It’s interesting to think of finding grace in the mists of a civil war, a conflict with ourselves. Sometimes, God’s grace comes in a flood, often just in drops. Usually abundant but somehow never enough.
Poorboys and pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland
The pilgrimage thing again? Is this a journey to God or one lead by God? I sometimes wonder who is coming along with me on this trip. Are the people as poor in spirit as I am on the same road with me? Have they been wounded in a civil war? Do they have the time? Sometimes it’s an easy pace, often it’s a climb which requires help.
And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties
Travelers and pilgrims always face dangers and trials. Modern transportation limits most of them but spiritual travelers are haunted by many spirits - hurt, fear, doubt. A smart traveler isn’t loaded down with thing. Things can be stolen. Things can be lost. You come to accept the spirits as background noise on the journey. Ruthless noises to be sure, but always in the background.
And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow
Have I lost God’s love? I’m not sure. I depend on his grace but the rips in my life echo. People can see them and ask me what’s wrong. I can’t answer. I don’t have the words. I would make them understand, if I understood it myself.
There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I’m falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
“Oh, so this is what she means”
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland
Grace shows up at the weirdest times. Just when I think the road has hit a dead end a light shines. Sometimes it’s a well placed smile. Sometimes it’s a song that seems right for the moment. Sometimes it’s just a strange warmth on a cold night.
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland
Ever started driving not knowing where you’re going? That’s my prayer life. I start talking and just ramble on. But I know I’m going somewhere. Prayer is the vehicle which moves me along on this pilgrimage. Unfortunately, I don’t have a steering wheel.
And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland
Graceland by Paul Simon
Note: I’ve been listening to this song a lot and I realize I’ve scrambled the lyrics so don’t freak.