A Poor Pilgrim

After a rather off morning, I decided to take a shower to see if that would help get me out of this funk. I was all set to get up, practice the song I'm singing in Relief Society this Sunday, and go grocery shopping. Steven went to try to save the morning by picking up a strawberry turnover for me and donuts for him and the kids...but the card didn't work...which means I won't be grocery shopping today. When it rains, it pours, and if I've learned anything from the past year, it is to expect a monsoon. Apparently, the economical climate we live in right now has plenty of monsoons and little time to air dry before the next storm.

So, I showered. Which usually helps me feel refreshed enough to start the day over again in my mind. I don't know why, but standing under the water made me feel empty. I felt like a shell of a person...and I understood myself. I am sad, I am scared, I am angry, I am hurt, I am lonely, I am full of doubts. I had a song creep into my head, and at first, I couldn't remember where I had heard it before, or what all the lyrics were. It was just the intro playing over and over until I could finally recall the first bits of lyrics. It seemed to slowly trickle in and after some time I could remember most of the lyrics. And I started to remember housing this song--that's what performing feels like to me. It feels like a house guest that comes to stay for a little while...it comes and goes and you get to know it better and better. Soon, you know it better than you know yourself. And then it's gone. It's stay is over. And you wait vacant until the next tune softly knocks at your spirit. Anyways, I remember feeling the deep resonance in my chest that flickers when the lower notes are sung. And then I remembered the very ending of the song. And it occurred to me that I had sung it before. It was the first solo given to me in high school. The lyrics confused me then, but I tried to understand them and feel them as best I could. If I were to sing it now, I would collapse on the stage. I wouldn't be able to get through the piece without a break down--or it would be my best performance yet because I know exactly now what the words mean.

I've had a vicious inner struggle these past few days. I want to make Heaven here. I want to be able to set life in its proper scope and function. I want to feel like an eternal soul that is here for a brief mortal experience, to bring Heaven here since I'm not ready to be brought There. I feel like I might be able to start to live that soon...but for now, I need to accept that I am a Poor Pilgrim of Sorrow. To feel it completely, to voice the depth of it, so that I can let it go.




I am a pilgrim of sorrow
I'm left in this wide world,
This wide world alone.
Aint got no hope,
Got not hope for tomorrow.
Tryin' to make it, make Heaven my home.

I am a poor pilgrim,
A poor pilgrim of sorrow
I'm left in this old wide world,
This old wide world alone.
I ain't got no hope,
I aint' got no hope,
Got not hope for tomorrow.
Tryin' to make it,
Tryin' to make Heaven my home.

Sometimes I'm tossed and I'm driven, Lord.
Sometimes I just don't know,
I don't know which way,
Don't know which way to turn.

I heard of a city called Heaven,
And I'm trying to make it,
Tryin' to make Heaven my home.

Sometimes I'm tossed and I'm driven, Lord.
Sometimes I just don't know,
I don't know which way,
Don't know which way to turn.

I heard of a city called Heaven,
And I'm trying to make it,
Tryin' to make Heaven my home.