Who holds the power

I spent some time crafting a commentary on current affairs in and around Washington, D.C., and decided not to share it. There’s enough noise being made on that topic, and I’m not going to change your mind.

Most of us agree, I think, that the nastiness has gotten out of hand. Once upon a time there were no good guys or bad guys, we just disagreed, but nowadays you’re either a good guy or a bad guy, and if it turns out you don’t think like I do, it gets nasty fast.

Outside the halls of “power,” it seems we get along just fine, because we actually have a lot in common. We want to live in peace with our neighbors and we want to help neighbors who could use a hand, for example.

You noticed I put “power” in quotes, didn’t you? That’s because those bigwigs don’t have as much power as they’d like you to think. The key to happiness isn’t about choosing the right leader — the right leader of your life stares you in the face every time you look in a mirror.

Of course we see things differently — you’re you and I’m me. If we start there and proceed with love, everything’s going to be all right.

think you’re big stuff

ID 173112893 | Outer Space © Thanapol Sinsrang | Dreamstime.com

You
think you’re big stuff
well
each of us
is less than an atom
in the mind-bogglingly
enormousness
of the universe.

The pressure’s off!
No need to be big stuff;
we’ll never be
as big as all that.

But
we can care
about the other
atoms that we
collide with
day by day.

A beautiful design

I logged in for tickets one second after they went on sale for Bob Dylan’s April 6 concert in Green Bay. It was too late.

Weidner Center is the best auditorium within 100 miles, but it seats only a little more than 2,000, and Bob Dylan is Bob Dylan. With the film “A Complete Unknown” rekindling interest in the legendary singer-songwriter, we didn’t really stand a chance of getting in.

Disappointed as we were, I knew that Amy Grant was playing in Madison three nights later, so on a lark I checked to see if tickets were still available there. Sure enough, we were able to secure front-row seats in the balcony.

Talk about your “When God closes a door, he opens a window” scenario. I’ve been an Amy Grant fan for more than 40 years, probably ever since the first moment I heard that J.S. Bach fugue morph into the power guitars of “Sing Your Praise to the Lord” in 1982.

Then Mary found the first song Grant had released in 10 years after a series of personal setbacks, a lovely song called “Trees We’ll Never See,” with images of a gardener working in the dirt that immediately called back the memory of my beloved Red, and we both were in tears listening.

We now are looking forward to seeing Amy Grant more intently than we were looking forward to Dylan. Isn’t it amazing how He works.