"swing-low, sweet chariot.
coming for to carry you Home.
swing low, sweet chariot....
coming for to carry you Home..."
as a little girl, i loved someone coming behind me
and pushing my swing up. over and over. higher and
higher. the warm air. my pony-tail flying back and forth.
i felt more powerful. could look down and see the sand.
or look up and feel the beeze and see the big, huge sky.
drop to your knees
and put the side of your face
to the ground. feel the fresh, cool earth
and listen. listen for the sound of joy rising
up as tree-roots spread everywhere, and the
grass blades shoot higher, and the geraniums
who have learned to live through almost anything.
that is why i LOVE geraniums.
you can water them, or forget to.
rains can come and drown them, but
just as sure as the sun will come out again,
so will geraniums peek up from their muddy,
damp houses and sing again.
i want to be like geraniums.
let the winds and hail and rain come.
let the world throw you a curve that makes
you bend and fall to your knees and wonder
if you will ever rise again to laugh and sing and
grab another's hand. and believe...
against all odds.
to breathe the clean air and
the rich, rich love of Jesus, and know
that, ALWAYS, His arm is NEVER too short.
nor His love.. nor His forgiveness. He is
the Rock. and....
i can hear the chariots coming over and over
to pick up those who have been faithful. and carry
them Home. maybe haven't been very perfect. maybe
messed up alot...like the prodigal son...but the chariots
still come. with the choirs singing very soft and low...
and carrying us through the Gates. into the massive,
strong love of God. can you hear the music?
be quiet enough to feel the miracles
of new people arriving at Heaven's door
again and again and again. and know that,
some day, the chariots will be carrying us up.
and we will be in the lap of God forever and ever and
i love you all. ann