Did you miss me?

Nah…  Not really.  Both of you who read here didn’t, and I get it.  There’s monkey pox, elections, nuclear power plants, and the Chinese vs. Pelosi to keep you far too busy to think about Jesus and the homeless, especially on such a humble, brittle, almost cynical blog as this.

But… welcome back, anyway.

I’ve been working!

I have two writing projects (offline) in the works these days.  And I have been revising, revamping, trashing and rewriting.  I posted a small bit of my very first draft of the newest project several days ago (couple months?), and it is a chapter in my project which currently I find central to everything, a chapter that moves me to tears to write it.

So, of course I want to perfect it.  And that means sleeping on it.  It means rewriting, adding, subtracting… running it by critics, and more.  If you want to reread that bit of first draft so you get the feel for it again, here is a link:


The nurse I write about in this project is facing burnout after a string of child deaths in her unit.  She is struggling emotionally, mentally, and spiritually to cope.  One of the ways she works at it is by planting flowers and shrubs in our backyard Gethsemane.  In reality, the drought is killing some of it this year, which I expect compounds the pain.

Meanwhile, I have chosen to write about it.  I have chosen to try to FEEL the feelings and walk through it with her.

One of the ways I have been enhancing the experience is with music.  I have been looking for both pop and classical music, especially anything she likes, which deals with grief and loss.  I had to do some digging in storage, but I found this old CD with a song, not terribly famous, but once I listened to it afresh, I was overwhelmed with it.

The music makes the song, but the lyrics do too.  They go together in a special blend.  But I cannot reproduce the music for you.  All I can do is link it and hope you go check it out for yourself.

But the immersion into this song certainly takes me to the mysterious places of grief and wonder.  It’s not Christian in mindset at all, but grief is a celebration of loss and a sense of being lost.  The flower God puts in our world which this artist chose to sing about is ugly and beautiful at the same time.  It spreads on the wind, and as my nurse plants her flowers, I cannot help but think of this other one blowing through the garden with hers.  It has blown me through her backyard Gethsemane in a unique way.

So, I invite you to the garden too.

Perhaps pray while you are here.  My prayer is that in listening to this song, I can write and perfect the chapter illuminating this nurse’s grief in a way which validates her, so she feels connected to me and others.  And of course, I intend to grasp her hand and lead her to Jesus for his comfort as well.

Here are the lyrics:


by Ian Moore

Wind, pick up this dandelion flower

blow it far away from here where the world has never seen

the beauty that it knows. It lights softly where it goes

a meadow or a road.

Sun, turn this grass from green to brown.

The August son’s so cruel; it sets fire to the rules,

and I’m falling.

What you waiting for?  It’s time for you to rise.

Close my eyes and keep me safe from all I know,

til the life is dried and gone, and the ghosts have all moved on.

Brother, brother, keep me safe from all I know.

Where the dandelion goes, the dandelion goes…

Blow your wishes for the one thing I can’t give

the sacrifice you live, the blood that must be spilled.

Illuminate me now and show me what’s inside 

the places that you find, the secrets that you hide.

Burn the flower!  Let it die for what it knows, the ruthless truth it shows, the plan that it unfolds.

Brother, brother, keep me safe from all I know.

Where the dandelion goes, the dandelion goes…



  1. harolene · August 4

    And you know there are more than 2 of us who read you!! The one with 2 readers would be me😂🤣😂‼️

    Liked by 1 person

    • Agent X · August 4


      You make me laugh.

      I just LOVE that word “both.” Sadly, in English we are stuck with that meaning only two in a technical sense. But ever since Jake and Elwood entered that little road house looking to do a gig, and they realized the place might not be so hospitable to their brand of blues music… So they ask the waitress, “What kind of music do you people listen to here?” and without missing a beat, as if she represents the cultural appreciation society while smacking away on her gum, she replies, “Oh, honey, we listen to BOTH kinds: country AND western.”

      If the blues brothers can play a place like that, I have BOTH readers. Get your own! Ha!!!

      But seriously, folx.

      Go watch that scene on YouTube or something. Afterward, the Blues Brothers play Rawhide over and over and over all night because it’s the closest thing in their repertoire they have to suiting the crowd, and it makes some classic comedy!

      Liked by 1 person

    • Agent X · August 4

      Sorry, Harolene, what I meant to say is… WHAT? SPEAK UP!!! I CAN’T HEAR YOUR COMMENT OVER THE CRICKETS!

      Liked by 1 person

      • harolene · August 4



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