Have You Ever?

“Yesterday, and days before,
Sun is cold and rain is hard.
I know, been that way for all my time.
‘Til forever, on it goes,
Through the circle, fast and slow,
I know, it can’t stop, I wonder.

I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
Coming down on a sunny day.”
(1971) “Have You Ever Seen The Rain?” Recorded By: Creedence Clearwater Revival. Composer: John Fogerty

Too many today may mistake the title for a series of evangelistic tent meetings with sweaty preachers yelling sinners into heaven. For old folks like me, the name, Creedence Clearwater Revival are four California lads who wound up in the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame.

John Fogerty, along with his brother, Tom, were two talented guys who formed a band in 1959. The name of their band changed a couple of times until in 1967 when they arrived at the title, Creedence Clearwater Revival.

Photo: Pitchfork – Creedence Clearwater Revival

CCR made great artistic strides in the rock arena of their day, even being one of the first bands booked for Woodstock in 1969. They, and their peers, saw the birth of what was once called, “Progressive Country”, or “Young Country”, or “Southern Rock”, as most understand the term. It had a gritty, southern style, usually with a southern drawl delivery in the vocals, yet holding to the east and west rock roots. The Eagles were very much in that lane. Their decades of success tells the story of their hard work along with endurance on the road and in the studio. Although the zenith of CCR’s success came in 1969-1970, classic rock stations tend to see CCR as a staple to the format. To date, they have sold well over 30 million records. Even though the group disbanded in 1972, in 1976, they released a greatest hits album, which is still in Billboard’s Top 200 charts, and has been awarded 10x platinum album sales. Very few old bands, who broke up long ago, can brag about numbers echoing in the rafters like that in radio and records.

One of my favorites from CCR is entitled, “Have You Ever Seen The Rain?” You may remember it well. Stirring lyrics, even a bit blue in nature. The writer, John Fogerty, brings out some honest feelings, feelings that burp-up questions which most of us either speak of verbally, or at least groan silently within ourselves. After the song is over, you are left scratching your noggin with more questions. If a lyric could have a scratch-n-sniff element to it, this is it.

“I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain coming down on a sunny day?”

The line rings a great, giant bell inside one’s own mind. Sure, especially in the southern states of America, atmospheric conditions tend to collide at times where sunrays rain down as the precipitation falls simultaneously. Often growing up someone would see such a thing and say, “The devil is beating his wife”. However, the line written pierces through with a deeper meaning than weather conditions.

Photo by Pok Rie on Pexels.com

Allow me to delve just a tad.

During the late 60’s and early 70’s, CCR rolled out some huge hits. They had been playing together, trying to become rich and famous for 10-12 years, and finally it happened. They were at their peak. Sold out concert halls, smashing record sales expectations, and making outlandish bank deposits to the point of having to hire financial management teams to do the bookkeeping. Life for the four rockers was good. They had all they ever wanted, and then some. There were mansions, and cars to buy. It was nothing to purchase diamond jewelry as a quick treat while on the road. Songwriting, publishing sales, and performances couldn’t get much better. With such victorious earnings, along with all the benefits that goes with it, a band could party all day until they had to climb up on stage to work. Happiness had arrived..at last. Or, did it?

However, what most didn’t know was the bickering between bandmates, then among management admins, and longings for solo work. After awhile, the fighting among the members was too much for Tom Fogerty. The same year of the release of “Have You Ever Seen The Rain?”, Tom made his exit out of CCR. The corrosion of fighting over artistic differences, business issues, and disagreements concerning songwriting opportunities, ebbed to their brink. The current undertow took the band down river, ending in a shocking end in 1972. After much discussion, CCR disbanded.

At some point, a manager, or agent must have shouted out, “Why ruin a good thing?” After all, they had received everything they ever wanted, to be a successful band, wading in fame and wealth.

Photo: The New Yorker – Creedence Clearwater Revival

In a sobering moment, John wrote the lyric to one of their greatest hits.

For years many believed the meaning had something to do with the failure of the “Peace and Love Generation” of the 1960’s, and social justice marches, etc. If you sit in a field full of daisies while puffing on a bong, surely peace and universal love will come. Right? Apparently not. The rain still falls even while the sun shines down. However, John Fogerty made an admission in recent years in his solo concerts about the lyrics, and the misconception of its meaning.

The band grew tired of the fame and wealth NOT bringing the element of satisfaction along with the happiness promised. It seems The Rolling Stones were accurate. You can’t get no satisfaction, no matter how hard you try. CCR found it out at the very peak of their music career. While swirling in the atmosphere of partying day and night, while taking in more money than they could spend, the happiness never showed up. After the smoke had cleared, and the groupies had left the hotel rooms, and the limos were parked, the guys in the group were left empty day after day, night after night. The conversation behind closed doors consisted of the bewilderment of the vacuum of joy as it was sucked out of their personal lives. Frustration entered in as the artistic brains began to want more than what had been received. Surely “more” would bring that ever eluding element of happiness. One wanted to write more songs, more writing credits on the album covers. Another wanted more of the cut from the shared pie. One wanted more time off. It’s what can rip marriages apart. I…I…I, me…me…me.

So, Fogerty wrote this lyric about the irony, along with the sadness, of a highly successful band dragging around the globe without happiness, joy, and a sense of satisfaction.

“I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain…coming down on a sunny day?”

Ancient scripture teaches that whoever prides himself/herself as better, or dominate, he/she will be forgotten in the long run. In fact, the scrolls tell us that true success is giving one’s self away, not adding onto self. Jesus said that if you want to be great, be a servant. If you want to be first, be last. Building a house on shifting sand is a recipe for structural failure. The rains will come, even when the sunrays shine down. Pride’s fall is a great fall.

In my own admission, I have been at several pinnacles in life where I never thought the rains would fall on my sunny parade, and yet they did. In the end, standing on a rock, an immovable rock, is the most solid place to be when the rains fall and floods your space.

Have you ever seen it yourself? There’s great examples in fuel for the race.

“From the end of the earth I call to You when my heart is faint; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” – Psalms 61:2 (NAS)

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An Exit Of Grace

God save our gracious Queen,

Long live our noble Queen,

God save the Queen.

Send her victorious,

Happy and glorious,

Long to reign over us,

God save the Queen(1619, via various historic literature.) National Anthem, or Royal Anthem of Great Britain. Some sources report the melody possibly was composed by: John Bull. Otherwise, composer is unknown.

Some have mournfully reacted to the passing of Queen Elizabeth II in a curious way. Multiple times the words from the Queen’s subjects have been stated something like, “I never thought this day would come. After all, she is the Queen. She just goes on and on.” Deep inside such sentiments, although recalling they were said out of shock and grief, is an eternal urging, a longing for an undying righteousness, a Monarch which never ceases to die, defeating the laws of nature and age. It may not be spoken of while sipping a pint around the dartboard of a rustic low-ceiling pub in Sheffield, but apparently the longing is the undercurrent of the soul. In fact, ancient scripture points this out as an everlasting truth.

Queen Elizabeth II knew this all too well. Her Majesty knew her God. She, herself, yearned for the day when she would bow in His throne room where The Unseen Eternal, The Ancient Of Days remains in constant power. This 70 year Monarch never needed to bend the knee here on this temporary placement, but she looked forward to the day when she would fall on her face before the Eternal Ruler of The Universe. At 96 years of age, she finally was ushered into what she had always imagined.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“Although we are capable of great acts of kindness, history teaches us that we sometimes need saving from ourselves – from our recklessness or our greed. God sent into the world a unique person – neither a philosopher nor a great general (important though they are) – but a Saviour, with the power to forgive.” – Queen Elizabeth II (2011)

Commentators from the BBC to the local small market news outlets in America, have reported the stainless rule of this Monarch. Often the words behind the news desks tell of the Queen’s remarkable record of scandal-free reign. Although every member of the House of Windsor cannot stand under such microscopic scrutiny, the Queen endured to the end with God’s righteousness as her bond. In fact, most Monarchs in the scrolls of history were, and are, flawed in one area or the other, some gravely so. Throughout England’s history, as well as all other nations, Monarchs, wrapped in such power while stewed in elitisms, haunted by ironic jealousies, have proven to be warped, corrupted, and in some cases, evil. That is not to say Her Majesty was sinless, as some may proclaim, but the fact remains, her reign as Queen saw very few flaws. Her reputation as a person was above board in just about every way that has been reported outside the walls of Buckingham Palace. No wonder this long-reigning Monarch has been hailed as one who held to selfless service, self-control, self-restraint, and always reaching for the highest of standards.

There are those in the world who have a disdain for the Queen. Yet, in most every case, the reasons stem from her stance against sin and the appearance of such. She had no room in her house for misbehavior, outlandish hatred, and words and actions against her England.

There is no doubt in my mind, these qualities attributed to this Royal cannot be traced to her jewels, her robes, or her throne. It is my belief this Queen, if raised as a peasant on the back streets of blue-collar Manchester, her qualities would have remained intact. I should add here, it would not have been because she wanted to better than others around her, or to even strive for a life in a monastery, but only because she humbly knew where true righteousness comes from. Her Highness, somewhere in the bowels of her souls and spirit, at some given time in her lengthy days, accepted the forgiveness of sins offered only through Jesus, The King Of Kings.

“For me, the life of Jesus Christ, the Prince Of Peace, whose birth we celebrate today, is an inspiration and an anchor in my life. A role-model of reconciliation and forgiveness, He stretched out His hands of love, acceptance and healing. Christ’s example has taught me to seek to respect and value all people of whatever faith or none.” – Queen Elizabeth II (Christmas Day address 2014)

Photo by Gu Bra on Pexels.com

Much will be said of this Queen in the coming days. Her name will be garnished with grandeur, pomp and circumstance. Her memory, and the acts of her rule, will be enshrined by the high praises of accolades from the poorest among us, as well as, the wealthiest and most famous, and rightly so. As these events unfold, as the Queen is laid to rest, keep in mind of what she might say as a parting comment. With what I know of this great lady, as we highlight her achievements, and her vast integrity, she would stop us while pointing to the One Who shared His righteousness with her, holding her hand, and holding her up through a jubilee of her reign. It is her faith in Him which we celebrate, even if unknowingly.

In the pages of modern history, those of the faith, and even those searching for eternal truths, have been graced by irrefutable tangible movings of the hand of God for us to witness. There have been remarkable manifestations throughout history which work to enlighten the blindness of humanity. Although these things are a rarity since the days of Jesus, they have been well documented across the globe. In each case, in those very rare moments, there with it comes a divine message reaching from outside the created galaxies to the world God so loves. On Thursday, September 8th, 2022, just before and after the passing of Queen Elizabeth, a double rainbow appeared over Buckingham Palace where a throng of people watched with collective gasps.

Photo: Whitchurch Herold

About the very same time, another rainbow pierced through the cloudy darkness some 29 miles away at Windsor Castle for the mourners to witness, just as the Union jack was being lowered to half-mast.

Photo: Getty Images

In the days of Noah, the first rainbow ever was seen and recorded. It is written that it was a “sign”, a monument, of God’s promise never to destroy the earth by flood again. Upon the plucking-up of Queen Elizabeth’s soul on September 8th, it’s as if The Rock of Ages visually made it known she was now over the rainbow, under the arch of His everlasting arms. Truly, an exit of grace.

See what is in store for those who mourn, and for those looking for an eternal righteousness which never dies in fuel for the race.

“In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple.” – Isaiah 6:1 (ESV)

Front Porch Tea

“I hear her voice, in the mornin’ hour she calls me.
Radio reminds me of my home far away.
And driving down the road I get a feeling
I should have been home yesterday, yesterday. Country roads, take me home
To the place where I belong…”
(1971) “Country Roads” Recorded By: John Denver Composers: Taffy Nivert Danoff, Bill Danoff, John Denver

There is just something very special about the backwoods roads, unpaved, rocky, and winding. Of course, if you’re lost, it’s not so special. However, it brings thoughts of peace, tranquility, and comfort. They are so worth the drive onto an unbeaten path. Even more so, if the country roads take you to loved ones, so precious and dear.

Earlier today, an old fond memory just popped into my head from out of the blue. It’s a memory I have not played through my mind in many years. Does that happen to you?

When my mom remarried back in 1965, I was five years old, a wonderful, historic Texas family came with the union. The Brown family, who I am so very proud of to this day. My dad adopted me, changing my name to Brown, and I am so proud of it. My new dad’s family was large in number, a bit on the stoic side, and scattered throughout Young County in west Texas, about 2.5 hours drive west of Dallas. Suddenly, I had many aunts and uncles, and a slew of cousins. Graham, Texas is the county seat, and the general location of the Brown family. Because I have written before concerning the area, the family homestead, and the pioneering family that they are, you might already be a bit familiar with the rich history of my family there.

The nucleus of the large God-fearing clan was my Grandpa and Grandma Brown (Bessie and W.R.) They both were children of Civil War Confederate soldiers. In fact, my great-grandpa, Lewis Pinkney Brooks (Grandma’s dad) was one of the first settlers to the area shortly after the war ended. He came to the area from Georgia on a mule, or donkey, depending on who you ask.

Photo: 1920’s, My great grandpa and grandma Brooks on the porch of the old homestead where my Grandma Brown was raised.. My cousin and her family live there today.

If you have seen the Paramount TV series, “1883”, then you have a taste of what Texas was like during those days of the untamed west. In fact, my great Grandpa Brooks would have been a contemporary of the Duttons, the two main characters in the storyline of the television show. So, my grandparents were not only raised by pioneers, but had firsthand knowledge of the happenings of those days. The family homestead is built just off the Brazos River in what is known as, Upper Tonk Valley, (Short for the Tonkawa tribe who lived there). As a kid, I was mesmerized by their recollections of their parents, the area, and the early days of being homesteaders.

Photo: 1911. My Grandma Brown on the left, with her sisters taking a dip in the Brazos River.
Photo: 1981. My Grandma Brown with some of her grandkids at the time.
Photo: 1971. My Grandpa Brown in his Sunday best.

Anytime we drove out to Graham to spend the weekend with my new grandparents, it was always something I was excited about. I was a city kid. Most of the family lived out in the country, outside the city limits of Graham, Texas. My grandparents didn’t live in the old family homestead, (An uncle resided there at the time.) Their old house was about 5 miles south of the homestead. It sat about a mile off the state highway on a red sandy dirt road among the creeks, mesquite trees, and cactus. There were horses to ride, cows to feed, creeks and rivers to explore, and pastures to run.

Photo; An old abandoned barn, a couple of miles down Tonk Valley Road.

Of course, there was refreshing rainwater to drink right out of a round tin washtub. That’s right. The water from the faucets came from wells which had a strong sulfur, mineral smell. Some got adjusted to it, as they were raised there, but not me. I couldn’t stomach the water, unless you boiled it first. So, my Grandma had a large metal washtub under a downspout off the corner of her kitchen. When full of rainwater, it was brought in where it sat next to her side kitchen window. It had its own ladle. I was always surprised how cool it was to the lips. You didn’t stir it because you didn’t want to bring up the sandy grains of residue resting at the bottom of the tub. But, on a hot summer Texas day, that water was the best tasting H2O I have ever allowed down my gullet.

Although they had an old TV from the 1950’s, they didn’t watch much of it. My Grandpa Brown was a busy farmer, among other things. There were expected pre-dawn sounds of heavy slurping coming from the living room, where I slept on a daybed. Opening my eyes, there he would be, sitting in a chair, in his pinstriped overalls and boots, facing the stove (if winter), or facing the window listening to the first coos of the morning doves, with a bowl and saucer of coffee. No coffee cup for W.R. Brown. I never really understood it, but that’s how he rolled. Afterwards, he was off to his crops close to the banks of a sandy-bottom creek down by the horse pasture. However, I rarely went back to sleep as Grandma’s freshly baked homemade yeast rolls were wafting through the early morning air. Nothing could beat her jarred preserves on the table, and buttered rolls fresh out of the oven. Oh, my! Recently, while visiting my 91 year old aunt, she showed me grandma’s old baking sheet which she used to bake her biscuits and rolls. It literally had holes in it from decades of wear. I sniffed of the old worn pan, but there wasn’t even a hint of bakings past.

Around mid-late afternoon, you could count on the folks sitting out on the wooden plank front porch. They had two or three metal lawn chairs, the kind that bounced a bit, almost like rocking chairs, and usually a couple of old wooden chairs with rope weave, or wicker weave seats were brought out from the dining room. Grandma had the usual large clay pitchers of cool tea made from her rainwater tub, sitting out for anyone who wanted to fill their tall glasses. The ice cubes were there waiting in an aluminum bucket, and tea spoons at the ready. Before you can ask, yes, it was sugar tea. Before I was 15 years old, I didn’t know unsweetened tea existed.

Photo by Arturo Au00f1ez on Pexels.com

Now, you would think, sitting next to elderly folk, with heavy west Texas accents, along with iced tea in hand, out on a front porch looking out at a red dirt country road, would be something only Rip Van Winkle would enjoy. NO WAY! I can’t tell you how much I learned about west Texas history, family history, and life out on the prairie. Sure, there was a lot of chatter about politics, preachers, and current news items of the day, but I was okay with that, too. You know why? Because I knew I was in the presents of greatness, salt of the earth people with dirt under their fingernails. The front porch was what they did for leisure. When family and friends came to visit, they knew to pull up a chair, fill their glasses, and bring up some fat to chew on. Much joy and information was to be had on that front porch of the Brown’s house.

My Aunt Ina Dell’s rendition of Grandma & Grandpa’s house.

As a pick-up truck would drive by from time to time, the driver would wave at the folks on the porch, and a warm kind acknowledgement was exchanged. It seemed everybody knew everybody in the community, especially on the old Lower Tonk Valley Road.

Photo: Old windmill pumping water for the livestock at the old Brook’s Homestead in Upper Tonk Valley.

After Grandma’s larrupin’ dinner, often other family members would come over and we would gather around the slightly out of tune upright piano to sing old hymns. (At the church, the Brown family practically filled the choir loft.) This was a very memorable time as we gathered for what they called, “The Singin'” complete with full harmonies, and old dusty hymn books from a box an uncle would deliver. After about an hour of melody-making, many of us returned to the front porch with tall cold glasses of sweet tea. I was always amazed how DARK it was out in the country. Depending upon the time of year, or weather, we would watch the fireflies dancing around in the front yard for a natural light show. A few of us cousins were given mason jars to do some firefly hunting. It was so much fun. We would chase them around, often bumping into one another in the process, with the sound of the tin jar lids clanging on the glass. Some took their captives home, but I didn’t have the heart for firefly prison. I was happy to let mine go free.

The marriage between my mom and dad only lasted about four years. However, they were terrific, adventurous years for me when at the age of 5-9 years old, I soaked up incredible life-long memories so very worthwhile. The Brown clan continues to be my family today. They are great people.

Grandma and Grandpa Brown have long vacated this earth, but their laughter, voices, and hugs in the pages of my memory, continue to deliver unanticipated smiles on my face. The old house is gone, as well. In the early 1980’s, after my Grandma passed away, after my Grandpa died in 1977, the old place was removed making room for a new house built on the spot by a dear cousin of mine. He and his family have lived on the land ever since. I still drive by there now and then.

Not a lot has changed there over the last six decades, with the exception of a partially paved stretch of road which has taken the place of Young County red sandy dirt. Often I will pull over in an unpopulated spot of Lower Tonk Valley Road, stop the engine of the car, and close my eyes to capture the familiar sounds of the place of old love and wonder. When listening close, one can hear the doves, roosters, and the bellows of the Longhorns close by. Somehow, I tend to leave there with a hankering for a tall glass of iced tea.

In the hustle of today’s schedule and the glow of the screen from the cell phone, a trip back to more innocent days can be as refreshing as a tin washtub of cool rainwater.

We all understand thirst when the heat is overpowering. It’s a craving, especially for cool water for the tongue and throat. It’s so easy for the imagination. Also, we all have a thirst within our natural man/woman, where the hunt for quenching begins, often pulling us to a whirlpool where we don’t belong. The smell of it is distasteful and sour, but unfortunately we, along with our society, grows accustomed to it in our daily choices. Away from the public faucet of such, is prepared a pure reservoir, filled with cool, clear water for the soul. The purity of it pushes down the sediment of the day. A drink to be trusted. A drink to quench deeply. A drink which quells everlasting.

Maybe for you, it might be a quick return visit with the Fount Of Every Blessing found in fuel for the race.

“But whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” – Jesus John 4:14 (ESV)