One of the Broken…

One of the Broken by Prefab Sprout

I was listening to this song recently, and thought the words were so meaningful.

Hi, this is God, here.
Talking to me used to be a simple affair.
Moses only had to see a burning bush,
And he’d pull up a chair.
Well it’s been a long time since we talked in that way,
If you’re wondering what to say
Sing me no deep hymn of devotion.
Sing me no slow, sweet, melody.
Sing it to one, one of the broken,
And brother, you’re singing, singing to me.
I remember King David,
With his harp and his beautiful, beautiful songs.
I answered his prayers,
And showed him a place where his music belongs.
It’s not too far from here, come get up off your knees.
If you’re looking for ways to please,
Sing me no psalm, you’re not King David.
Sing me no high, hushed, Glory Be.
Sing it to one, one of the broken,
And brother, you’re singing, singing to me.
Sing me no deep hymn of devotion.
Sing me no slow, sweet, melody.
Sing it to one, one of the broken,
And brother, you’re singing, singing to me.
God is calling us to serve him not through “hushed Glory Be”s but rather through service to the hurt and broken of this world. That’s the kind of music that God wants us to create – but it’s a lot harder than standing up in church and singing words that actually don’t mean very much.

Bastille Day

Yesterday, 14th July, was a public holiday in France – or at least, it would have been, had it not been a Sunday. I do think the British bank holiday system is better: fixed days, usually on a Monday. And if it’s a moveable feast (for example, Christmas Day & Boxing Day) and it falls on a weekend, days get added after the weekend. Splendid! Here in France if the bank holiday falls on the weekend, well, tant pis!, you lose it!

Anyway, there were celebrations going on all over France, to commemorate the storming of the Bastille in 1789. which is recognised as the beginning of the French Revolution. Wikipedia gives you more information about this, should you be interested.

We did no storming of anything however. Our friends who own a restaurant in the next village were having a Mechoui (a spit roast). I had a photo of their poster to put here, but the picture of a spit-roast pig was a bit graphic, and I’m aware that there are some vegetarians who read this, and may not appreciate such photos. Here, however, is a cropped picture of people tucking into the meat

We met up with someone we’ve not seen for ages, and caught up with news on her and her daughters – they came to France 12 years ago, speaking no French at all, and now one of the girls is working in a help-centre for UK customers in France, after 3 years doing languages at University, and the other (who struggled at school) is working as a chef in a hotel kitchen – both loving it! It’s always good to hear about young people doing well.

We had our meal – which was enjoyable, and quite filling – while chatting to a Dutch couple. They had cycled over from St Just, having seen the graphic poster for the meal. They were having a rest day on their epic ride from Holland to Spain! The woman had left her job, and the guy was self employed so had stopped working; they had taken 4 months out to ride to Barcelona (I think) from their home in the Netherlands. It was interesting talking to them & finding out more about their trip.

Then,  Jean-Luc (the owner-chef) and his band played into the afternoon…

…the music was good, but the lyrics (all in English) were mangled. If you didn’t know what they were supposed to be singing you wouldn’t know what they were singing! If you see what I mean.

!

We sat in the sunshine, drinking our Perrier and enjoying the sounds of the 70s and 80s!

Take it away, Jean-Luc! Guitar solo time! (J-L is on the right)

Dire Straits, Beatles, Status Quo, Rolling Stones…all the oldies were there!!

We left about 5.00, but I’m sure folk were there well into the evening, but Mr FD wanted to get home to watch the end of the cricket world cup final, which England won after what I was assured was a nail-bitingly exciting ending.

An enjoyable, relaxed day.

We had had to choose, unfortunately, between this event and the Fete des Voisins meal, which was happening on the same day. We went to this event last year, and it was good fun, but this year we chose to go to Jean-Luc and Traudel’s event. And next year, who knows…

 

Alive!

I’d like to introduce you to a song…It’s being very helpful to me, at the moment.

You see, my hormone therapy medication causes panic attacks, increased anxiety and such like, which isn’t much fun. I am taking (more) medication to reduce the anxiety, but I don’t really want to be on a cycle of medication to reduce the effects of the medication, so I’m trying to find other ways to deal with the negativity and anxiety that follow me around.

I watched a BBC documentary recently, where Nadiya Hussain, of Great British Bake Off success, talked about her anxiety disorder. She sought professional help and CBT which has started to help her. My anxiety is nothing like as bad as hers, but she talked about her coping methods, what she does to keep anxiety at bay, how it makes her feel etc. Her therapist encouraged her to say “What’s the worst that can happen?”, to acknowledge the anxiety, rather than to block it out…I’ve not explained it well, I’m afraid, but if you search online, or go to the BBC catch up, you could find the documentary.

At the moment though, I have a song which I listen to which is – for me, at least – uplifting enough to shake me from the grey. Here it is: “Alive” by Big Big Train

Christmas Song N° 8

Here’s a carol I’d forgotten about, until I saw it suggested on a resources-for-church page, suggesting it as a possible song for yesterday. It is a song that I love, but which isn’t really sung that often.  It is an ancient hymn, originally written by the Roman poet Aurelius Prudentius in 348. It reminds us not so much of the humility and impoverished beginnings of Christ’s life, as many carols do, but rather the glory and the praise that will be when he comes to reign.

So here is a hauntingly beautiful rendition, followed by a rather joyous Celtic-inspired instrumental version

Of the Father’s love begotten

Ere the worlds began to be

He is Alpha and Omega,

He the Source, the Ending He

Of the things that are, that have been

And that future years shall see

Evermore and evermore

 

O ye heights of heaven, adore Him

Angel hosts, His praises sing

Powers, dominions, bow before Him

And extol our God and King

Let no tongue on earth be silent

Every voice in concert ring

Evermore and evermore

 

This is He whom Heaven-taught singers

Sang of old with one accord

Whom the Scriptures of the prophets

Promised in their faithful word

. Now He shines, the Long-expected

Let creation praise its Lord

Evermore and evermore

 

 

Christmas Song N°7

This is one of my favourite carols, sung by the choir at Winchester Cathedral. As I was at Teacher Training College in Winchester it seemed a suitable version! Sadly, in this world today, the words seem so apt, reminding us that, so often we block our ears to the call of God.

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold:
‘Peace on the earth, good will to men, ‘
From heav’n’s all-gracious King.
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing!
Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long,
Beneath the angel strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love song which they bring:
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!
Still thro’ the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurl’d;
And still their heav’nly music floats
O’er all the weary world:
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hov’ring wing,
And ever o’er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.
All ye, beneath life’s crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look, now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing:
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!
For lo! the days are hast’ning on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold;
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing!

Christmas Song N° 5

Another haunting carol…first in the more well known form, and then in another interpretation, using Huron, French & English (I really like this version!).

 

Twas in the moon of wintertime when all the birds had fled
That mighty Gitchi Manitou sent angel choirs instead
Before their light the stars grew dim
And wandering hunters heard the hymn,

Jesus your King is born
Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

Within a lodge of broken bark the tender babe was found
A ragged robe of rabbit skin enwrapped his beauty round
But as the hunter braves drew nigh
The angel song rang loud and high

The earliest moon of wintertime is not so round and fair
As was the ring of glory on the helpless infant there
The chiefs from far before him knelt
With gifts of fox and beaver pelt

O children of the forest free, O sons of Manitou
The Holy Child of earth and heaven is born today for you.
Come kneel before the radiant boy
Who brings you beauty peace and joy

Here’s a link to the Wiki page, if you’d like to read more.