Tuesday, May 14th, 2019. 12:36 A.M.
A Little Confession
The Sandy I write about is New Sandy
“Sandy” is becoming Symbolic of a Lady
A Universal Lady,
As “The Universal Soldier” in Donovan’s song is not a human soldier,
He’s symbolic of human soldiers.
A Spiritual Lady
Who may not be a Lady, either
And maybe that Universal Lady is a Feminine and Imaginary Version of the Lord
Maybe only in my imagination is she a lady
Maybe in reality she is the Lord my God Jesus Christ,
The Only-begotten Son of God.
“the Way the Truth and the Life”
“Jesus answered, I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” -John 3:5-8 NIV Study Bible.
When You Read the Word Sandy, you must see beyond a natural being, by the eyes of your understanding being opened by the Spirit.
Marky B Monday was thinking of Sandy B Sunday
As he listened to Unchained Melody
He was a wishin’ he could be just right for her;
So she’d really want to write to him.
He closed his eyes and thought:
I wish I knew how to be just right for you, Sandy.
And if I knew, then I wish I could be it, be just right for you.
Letter of Faith and Hope to Lady Sandy
Sandy, would you please write to me?
Thursday, May 2, 2019. Morning.
Dear Sandy, when you read the word sandy does it have a special significance? I mean, do you recognize it as special because it is also your name? For example, if you read about someone walking on a sandy beach, do you see your name in that word? Remember in that piece you sent to me about “please listen to what I’m not saying”? Well, I guess sometimes we can also see what is not being shown; and understand what is not being said; like reading between the lines and maybe imagining things.
Maybe it’s necessary to leave our mind in order to receive the mind of Christ.
“The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned. The spiritual person judges all things, but is himself to be judged by no one. For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ.” -1 Corinthians 2:14-16 ESV Study Bible.
There is a song by Leonard Cohen that is coming to mind just now:
“Love Calls You by Your Name”
Sandy, When I’m reading and come upon the word mark, I see my name there—even if it’s only a noun and not a name, even if achy the acorn is still a nut and not an oak, yet. And sometimes in my imagination, I put Sandy and Mark together, like this: Sandymark. Or, like this: Sandra Mark. Or, Sandra J. Mark. Or, Sandra Jeanne Mark. Or, Mark Sandra. Or, Mark D. Sandra. Or, M.D. Sandra. Or Mark David Sandra. Sandra, would you like to be a doctor? Maybe a doctor of letters? M.D. Sandra, Doctor of English Letters.
And Sandy, would you please write to me? I’d love to get a letter from you: that is, a friendly letter—not a “goodbye . . . please leave me alone” letter.” Or, if you have any complaints to make, that’s OK. I can read that—as long as it isn’t a goodbye letter.
Or, if you would prefer calling me you are welcome to do that too. I should mention that I rarely answer my phone. But, if I knew it was you calling, then I would answer it, for sure. I think I’d have some anxiety though. Remember the one and only time you called me? Oh my God, it was such a serious call. I couldn’t really talk with you. I felt like the Principal was calling me and she wasn’t at all pleased with me. I may not seem so bright in a phone conversation, though. Extemporaneous speech doesn’t give me much time to think before I speak; and if I speak without thinking first, I’m liable to say things that aren’t just right. “Good grief, I’m in trouble again,” I imagine Charlie Brown saying to himself after saying something to . . . [what is his friend’s name? I forgot. Lucy. That’s her name.] I don’t read the comics too much anymore. When I was still a teenager living at home, I’d read some of them in the Sunday papers. Another Lucy I remember was Lucy Ricardo. Remember “I Love Lucy,” Sandy? I watched that show when I was as little as marky maypo in the mid-to-late 1950s. Before you even came into the world, Sandy. Sometimes I wonder, Sandy, if all your childhood was at Lake Hiawatha; or if you lived somewhere else first and only moved to Lake Hiawatha later on. It’s only something that occurs to me to wonder about sometimes. I’m not a detective.
And my email address is: ____@____
And, if you don’t know about my web blog address where I post things I’ve written, the address is:
Sandra, there must be a reason why I want to be friends with you; and read your writing; and why I write about you and why I just think of you every day even though you haven’t written to me in about 36 years. If you will forgive me for telling it like it is, I believe God laid you on my heart. And sometimes I think: In our next life, God is going to place us in the same neighborhood; maybe next-door neighbors and classmates. And he’s going to make me in such a way that you just find me so much to your liking that you will want to play with me every day when we’re little kids; and we’ll be on the same baseball team and walk to the park together; and walk to school together and have lunch together and do our homework together and be on the book club and writing club; and enjoy listening to music together and dancing together; and going out for a cup of tea or coffee together; and going walking together. And you’re going to want to tell me everything you think and everything you imagine; and God is going to bless you so you’re not afraid of anything anymore. You’re going to be so courageous; and God’s going to make me so able to love all your courageousness and when you pitch on the baseball team in little league or farm team [like Sandy Koufax] he’s going to make me your catcher [your “catcher in the rye” your catcher in ”fields of god” (Fields of Gold) and you’re going to pitch so fast and so hard that I’m going to have to be really strong to take all your fastballs and curves and sliders without complaining and without crying about it. God’s going to make me just right for you in every way in the universe and maybe forever, Sandy. Sandy Forever.
And God’s going to make me able to listen to everything you say about everything you like and love and hate and want and don’t want. And I’m just going to be able to take it all and understand and love you just the way you are. [And write about it afterwards].
And God’s going to make you able to listen to everything I need to say, too. Or write. And you’re going to be strong enough to understand and love me, too; just the way I am. We’re going to be like two wings of a beautiful bird with a body of God’s Love joining us together; and we’re going to fly together as one, by Almighty God between us and in us. God who is Love and Light and Spirit, Jesus said.
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” -Revelation 21:1-4 NIV Study Bible.
Wondering what your voice sounds like, Sandy. I’d like to listen to it and memorize exactly how your voice sounds. And how different it sounds at different times depending on what you’re feeling about what you’re saying.
Saw a picture of you on FB that looks very pretty. In the photo you’re wearing a dark V-neck top with flowers on it. Your smile looks lovely.
I took a walk today of 29 minutes around the Clinton and Social block. I always need to have a cup of tea before my walk. The little bit of caffeine helps to get me going. It’s a very weak cup of tea, though. I can’t tolerate much caffeine. Only a little. After pouring the hot water into the cup I wait about 5 seconds and then I dunk the bag 5 or 8 times. And that’s it. That’s all I can take. . . with some milk and honey or sugar.
Thursday, May 2, 2019. 8:25 PM. Just enjoyed a little bowl of homemade popcorn. Cooked in olive oil with a light sprinkling of salt. Don’t have TV. Following the baseball game on mlb.com. Don’t see the plays but read what’s going on, instead. Lot’s of facts are on the page. Don’t follow the whole game. Take breaks and do other things, like writing this letter. Cooking a little. Washing a few plates and cups and utensils. Did laundry this morning. It took 1 hour and 59 minutes to wash, dry and fold and put away 11 days’ worth of laundry. This letter currently has 1048 words . . . make that 1055 words 1056. Every time I write the total it changes. 1072. I guess I’ll just have to give up. 1081.
[Imagining someone reading this may be thinking: Look at this nut! Counting his words! Geez! He’s not a lover! He’s a bookkeeper!]
Still have to address the envelope. Handwriting is difficult. I’ll do as much as I can and then take a break to rest my hand.
Sometimes I wonder if the reason you don’t write has something to do with your telling me not to write to you anymore. However, that isn’t the only thing you told me: You also sent that piece “Don’t Be Fooled by Me.” Which is also titled: “Listen to What I’m Not Saying.” Or something close to that.
“Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying.”
So, I hope, Sandy, that you aren’t only thinking: “He doesn’t listen to me. I told him to stop writing to me. And yet, he keeps writing, anyway.” I hope you aren’t thinking: “If there is one thing I can’t tolerate it’s eternal love that never gives up, that never dies, that endures forever. Who do they believe in, anyway—Jesus Christ the Lord? The Son of God Almighty! Why don’t they just give up? Why don’t they just quit? Why don’t they just be eternally quiet?”
And I hope you’re not thinking: “Well if he doesn’t like my eternal quietness, why does he keep writing? Hmmm. Maybe he really likes my quietness. Maybe he really likes my peacefulness, like a still mountain lake. Maybe he finds my quiet spirit so beautiful that he is drawn to it. Maybe God is drawing him to me because God wants him to learn to be as peaceful and quiet and beautiful in spirit as a writer of the inexpressible invisible God who is Love and Light and Spirit. [Don’t worry about me being “drawn” to you, Sandy.] I’m staying right hear in Woonsocket.
Remembering a beautiful verse from a love song: “you’ll come to me out of the long ago.”
Sandy, my mother lived in Greenville, RI for a while last year, at Waterman Lake. She departed on August 15, 2018. At that time, she was in North Smithfield. And when my dad was in the Army-Air Corps during World War 2, he was for a time stationed in Greenville, South Carolina.
And I’m “stationed” in Woonsocket. And it’s May and things are getting green, the greening of Woonsocket. Thinking of “Anne of Green Gables.” I didn’t watch that TV series; but, it seemed like it is probably a sweet story. I don’t read a lot anymore. I read about that story at Wikipedia.org a while ago; and I can’t remember what was written.
Sandy, would you please write to me?
Sandy? Would you go out with me on a Monday and have a Sunday with me?
Marky B Monday and Sandy B Sunday having a Sunday on a Monday while listening to The Mommas and the Papas singing Monday Monday. What do you say, Sandy Jay? Can you still call out loud as a Blue Jay? Can you still write with all your might?
And if “tears more than smiles still comfort you,” perhaps we could listen to some comforting music. What music comforts you, Sandy? Music comforts me. And when it touches my heart my heart breaks with such sweet feelings it’s comforting to feel the tears. Sweet heartbreaks. Remember that verse in the movie: “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” about “O dream maker you heart breaker” sung by Audrie Hepburn?