Wayfaring Stranger

Wayfaring Stranger is a personal favorite, dating back to before Robby and I met, though even more so after.  It's a tradition ballad, hymn song, from the mountains, and deeply moving.  Of late espeically verse 3 about "my mother".   I know she is on the other side waiting for me... but this life is not easy in the mean time.  At least I have the hope of my salvation, and my eternal home to wait me.

 This is my favorite version, so I just had to share this...

~ Morria

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Wayfaring Stranger

I am a poor wayfaring stranger,

While traveling through this world of woe.

Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger,

In the bright world to which I go.

I'm going there to see my father,

I'm going there no more to run,

I'm only going over Jordan,

I'm only going over home...

I know dark clouds will gather round me;

I know my way is rough and steep.

But golden fields lie out before me,

Where God's redeem shall never sleep.

I'm going there to see my mother,

She said she'd meet me when I come.

I'm only going over Jordan,

I'm only going over home...

I'll soon be free from every trial,

My body sleepin' in the churchyard;

I'll drop the cross of self denial,

And enter on my great reward.

I'm going there to see me Savior,

To sing His praise forevermore!

I'm only going over Jordan,

I'm only going over home...

~ Public Domain ~

Fellow Gypsy Gal..

Today, there was a fellow gypsy gal, standing on the curb at the edge of Walmart. As is my custom, I went into the store and bought a bottle of icy cold water for her.  Sadly, today I was out of food bars in my purse, having just finished a trip moving east, and not having had a chance to replenish as of yet.  Then I ran back out to her, in my good clothing from my job interview.  My turquoise necklace pounded on my chest as did my sliver Celtic cross, but I had to get back to her, as the day is so hot and humid in this Kentucky late summer weather.  I handed her the bottle of cold water, and she smiled, "A cup of cold water in My name.  God bless you!"

How often do we over look blessings because we fear strangers?  It makes me think of the old Celtic Christian blessing/proverb.  "May there always be food in the eating place, may there always be drink in the drinking place.  May there always be music in the listening place.  May there always be a bed in the sleeping place.  For, oft, oft, oft, goes Christ about in stranger's garb."  Please my friends consider how you to might aid other gypsies, vagabonds, and travelers.  Blessings!

~ Morria