“Come on over. Whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on…Really got the bull by the horn. We ain’t fakin’. There’s a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on.” – Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On. Composer: Dave “Curlie” Williams. Many artists recorded this song, but it was Jerry Lee Lewis who put it on the map in 1964.
Somewhere, in the yellowed crusty pages of my memory files, are flashbacks of rearrangement of furniture in my childhood. As a kid I thought it was exciting. After all, it seemed like a new house, or apartment, once the dust of the upheaval settled. Even the following day, waking up to a newly reset living room was shocking.
Yesterday, my wife made good on a plan to turn the house upside down to reboot the interior of our place. Almost every room in the house was affected. As you can see, in the photo above, it is a work in progress. To say I was looking forward to this mountain of a hurdle would be a lie. Yet, the excitement in her face, and the plans seen in her eyes, reminded me of how I felt as a kid helping my mom rearrange our rooms. My wife was filled with energy that came out of nowhere. We are both so grateful for her two adult sons volunteering their time and muscle to begin the first phase.
Sammie, our Schnauhuahua (half Schnauzer and half Chihuahua), showed signs of displacement when the piano had been transported back to a study/studio. She loves getting under the piano bench as if it were a shelter. We call it her piano cave. She often keeps her stash of nibbles under there. I told her I knew how she felt.
Often, you will see on the news (usually in the no-traffic-Sunday morning), crowds gathering to watch a demolition crew implode an old, large building. Everyone is agog as the dynamite strategically takes out support columns and rafters until it all lies in a pile of sky-high dust. There is an attraction for upheaval, for the old coming down and the new popping up (Unless you’re a Schnauhuahua).
Upheaval, of other kinds, has recently griped my life once again. They are private matters, but take it from me, it is devastating on several layers. One has to do with health, the other my dignity and worth. It’s not my first time to be bucked off a horse. Truth is, I have had the proverbial horse stomp all over me after the great and mighty toss. I’ve been there and done that. Yet, even at my age, somewhat seasoned and well worn, it hurts all the same. Upheaval is, at times, hurtful. I miss the shelter of my personal piano cave. (My kingdom for a bag of Cheetos!) I’ll move on. (Heavy sigh is heard as he pushes away thoughtfully from his computer screen.) You too, huh?
Yesterday’s dust is now settling, even though there’s lots to be completed. Certainly there’s more shakin’ goin’ on. However, I rose from my bed this morning to a new den and living room. Rearranging, demolition, aching backs can equal up to a fresh start. A new start only God has designed in the scope of eternity. Just another reminder, there is joy in the morning.
In this life, someone will remove the familiar. As they do, it’s best to be full of fuel for the race.
“…Giving them a garland instead of ashes. The oil of gladness instead of mourning. The mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting. So they will be called oaks of righteousness, The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.” – Isaiah 61:3 (NAS)