Calling up Tears
Monday, September 19, 2005
Saturday evening had once again been spent at a coffee shop where Wally and Curly performed (occasionally with Starr). And Shakespeare and OLeif discussed the animation.
“Ahhh!” The little bald-headed tortured genius would shout from time to time, holding his head in dramatic agony. “I need someone to keep me on track! You’re my right arm,” he said to OLeif, “and she’s my left,” he pointed to Mollie who sat chatting with Evrain in her black arm warmers.
The Milk boy had also come, several dudes from the Scout troop, Travis and his sister, and others scattered around.
And after the evening had ended and all the high school boys in the area had loaded the nearby Sonic parking lots with their racers and coffee can mufflers, seven of the group left for Steak ‘n Shake to chat and plan and enjoy some good food.
Evrain had brought his sketch pad, including several doodlings of the infamous “Speedoman” (a.k.a. Justus Orange). It was rather an hilarious gathering and the waitress seemed quite amused, particularly when Magnus commenced to take several snapshots of Mollie at another table, for the animation.
“Oh, you look so sad,” Evrain said to her as she sat across the tables.
Molly tried not to smile, holding her mood for the picture.
“Are you one of those people who can just call up tears anytime?”
“Well, it’d take me a few seconds, but yeah,” she said.
“Wow, that’s just… I think… Yeah, girls must just be able to do that better than guys,” Evrain boomed loudly across the room. “Your tear capacity must just be better than ours.”
And Sunday was spent a little all over the place. Following Sunday School, OLeif and Collette drove a bit of a ways to a non-denominational Reformed church named 2 Rivers, on the other side of Highway N. OLeif’s coworker had been discussing a new sermon series entitled “No Connection”, which had intrigued OLeif, and thus they went to hear a sermon. The church was also located at a school, though a high school, and much larger. And they discussed their thoughts on the sermon, the music, traditions, etc…
The sermon had been good and the singing accompanied by drums and guitars. “Salt” preached that morning and “Pepper” spoke on some other things during worship. Yes, “Pepper” sounded almost exactly like John Piper, Collette was convinced.
And during the afternoon, they began a marathon of “Lost” in the basement – Dad, OLeif, Collette, Joe, Rose, and occasionally Linnea. For Mom was not particularly interested, Carrie was at work, and Francis preferred to watch “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep” upstairs.
But soon Carrie returned, and there was a drive out to “Cade’s Cove” – a twenty mile stretch of trail through the woods, hills, and valleys in the country. Although the fall color had not yet hit the Missouri hills, the drive was as beautiful as it had been the three years before, November 30th, when they had taken the same drive.
Joe and Dad had hiked it with the Boy Scouts that same summer of 2002. And the valleys were green and full of wild flowers and old shacks and barns, hay bales, dry streams and cold streams… all beautiful in the hazy sunset of a mid-September afternoon.
Upon arriving back at the house there was more “Lost” with Dairy Queen for dinner. Oddly enough, Linnea ordered the largest piece out of all of them – a large brownie batter earthquake.
And it was Saturday that OLeif showed her a song by Caedmon’s Call, which Collette had heard before, but had never quite listened to. It was one of her favorites after that.
Sometimes I believe all the lies
So I can do the things I should despise
And everyday I am swayed
By whatever is on my mind
I hear it all depends on my faith
So I’m feeling precarious
The only problem I have with these mysteries
Is they’re so mysterious
And like a consumer I’ve been thinking
If I could just get a bit more
More than my fifteen minutes of faith
Then I’d be secure
My faith is like shifting sand
Changed by every wave
My faith is like shifting sand
So I stand on grace
I’ve begged you for some proof
For my Thomas eyes to see
A slithering staff, a leprous hand
And lions resting lazily
A glimpse of your back-side glory
And this soaked altar going ablaze
But you know I’ve seen so much
And I explained it away
Waters rose as my doubts reigned
My sand-castle faith it slipped away
Found myself standing on your grace
It’d been there all the time
My faith is like shifting sand
Changed by every wave
My faith is like shifting sand
So I stand on grace.