My God would give a sunshine after rain…

Taken from the poem “The Shower”, by Henry Vaughan (1622-1695) and set to music by Sir Edward Elgar (1857-1934), I do indeed thank the Maker for this reprieve, and a first ray of hope since this debacle.


Cloud, if as thou dost melt, and with thy train
Of drops make soft the Earth, my eyes could weep
O'er my hard heart, that's bound up and asleep;
Perhaps at last,
Some such showers past,
My God would give a sunshine after rain.


Sunday’s not going to be pretty, but I hope I will stand up well, as my namesake did in facing a six-fingered giant of Gath. I hate confrontation, am uneasy with it and the ill-will that it engenders. Because "winners breed losers. And losers start the next war." (from Ideal War by Christopher Kubasik.) Nonetheless it is sometimes necessary to take up the sword and swallow your queasiness and, well, do what you must when you must. David (the real, shepherd-king David, not his pale modern-day shadow) was by many accounts a compassionate, even meek, and gentle man. But he was no pushover. When necessary he was also a ruthlessly efficient war general who defeated all who would oppose his sovereign Lord.

I ramble again. It is what happens when I’m trying not to think about something. But I can’t shirk duty, not indefinitely. I’ll go now, and do what I must.

Because I must.