(Well, she had to remind herself of Who really was controllin'
the ship that was a rockin' and a rollin'!)
***
The Amsterdam was an enormous boat
Like a city afloat!
The cruise was:
Red and gold décor
On wall and floor
Fine art and swaying chandeliers
Luxury spread over many tiers
A curving staircase by the wall
And in every room; in every hall
English with a southern drawl
(Y'all!!) :)
Narrow corridors, broad promenades
And getting lost with every turn I made!
The astrolabe was stunning, babe!!
The centerpiece of the Ms Amsterdam Atrium is its magnificent and stunning astrolabe, an ancient celestial clock with four faces: the astrolabe itself, a planetarium, the world time, and an astrological clock.
The ship held people of all ages and stages, but of particular note were the large number of those whose years of youth and strength were behind them. Their love for Lord shone on their wrinkled faces, and it seemed that nothing stood between them and having a wonderful time on a wonder filled journey to Alaska. I watched some of those elderly ladies and thought about the Christian life that they had led, the works they might have done, the crown they might receive.
They came
With walkers, canes, and wheels
Halting, lame
They might not be sporting heels,
But just the same...
From their aged faces shines
If you read between the 'lines'
A seasoned beauty
Youth can never claim
Comical memories:
During one song, David Phelps went to step forward, the ship lurched, and he stumbled into Bill Gaither. He continued laughing through parts of the song!
Oz and JoAnne went to the very top of the ship; they were the only ones up there. They enjoyed the beautiful scenery. When they turned to leave, Ben Isaacs and his wife appeared, and started walking towards them. Ben spoke a greeting to Oz; just then a gust of wind swooped down, and JoAnne's skirt shot straight up in the air. Man overboard.
JoAnne was alone in an elevator when the door opened and Ben Isaacs and Matthew the pianist entered. If only she'd had a gun, she would have pulled it out and said: "Hand over the talents and nobody will get hurt!!!!"
Oz and JoAnne joked that a ghostly old captain shared their room because the bathroom door opened by itself several times!! It really did!! JoAnne did not find this as amusing as Oz did. It was creepy!!! Oz seemed to consider the "haunting roommate" the highlight of his trip!
Other memories:
Sitting in the library or on the deck and watching the seas
go by with the breeze.
Delectable food served in the cafeteria and in the formal dining hall. (What fun to look up to the floor above us and see Reggie and Ladye Love Smith chatting and dining together!)
Looking forward to dinner each night because of the fellowship we had with those assigned to our table: Rick and Patricia from Florida, William and Sherrill from Indiana, and Shelby and Lola from Kentucky. Lola turned out to be a pistol packin' mama who regaled us nightly with stories of people who dared to cross her, and how she set them straight! One poor soul on "the list" was a boss who tried to fire her. She told him to return to his office and not to emerge until he had learned how to treat women on the work force. She went back to work, and continued working there for another year while the boss tiptoed sheepishly around her!! Her husband is a big, friendly, easy going kind of guy who smiles from ear to ear and shakes with laughter during her accounts!
William and Sherrill, Indiana
Rick and Patricia, Florida
Shelby and Lola, Kentucky
I met a lady who is from Alberta, Canada, who knew all about the small town, Castor, where my mother grew up, and the surrounding area as well. I don't meet too many people who do!
We visited Juneau, Alaska, as well as Ketchikan, Alaska. The cool air and coastal feeling reminded us a little of Oakland.
We walked and explored in both of these cities. Going into an old church in Juneau, we signed our names in the guest book. JoAnne did not notice that the founding clergyman was buried in the front yard until they came back out. Yep, there he was.
(A deceased priest!!)
In Ketchikan, we walked along part of the Ketchikan river, observing salmon living and dead; mostly dead. Ugh.
(Spawn, then you're gone!)
My favorite part of the trip, hands down, was the concerts. What bliss to be able to drink from that fountain twice a day! The morning concerts were a little less formal, and featured a handful of artists each time. Well, maybe two handfuls.
One of these concerts was particularly moving, and is a very warm memory. Lily Isaacs spoke of when her mother was in the concentration camp, Auchwitz, as a young woman, and how her childhood friend saved her life by pulling her out of one line and into another. The guard watching them was silent when the friend told him in no uncertain terms that Lily's mother was going to be in a different line. The fact that he allowed it was a miracle in itself. It turned out that all the women in the line Lily's mother had been in originally went to the gas chamber.
I have never seen Lily so emotional. Her daughters cried, too, as did many in the audience. In the same concert, Judy Martin shared about her struggle with depression, which has plagued her from her youth, and her sister, Joyce, shared about a time in her life when she backslid into the world. She shared about God's redeeming hand, and afterward she and her siblings sang a song about grace. This was also an emotional time, and I noticed Wes Pritchard, who was conducting the concert, wiping away tears throughout Joyce's testimony and their song.
Russ Taff and Gene MacDonald also shared some of the difficulties they've encountered through their lives, and told how they must they fight to overcome.
There was a lovely spirit present, as Sonya Issacs noted, saying: "There is nothing like the Spirit of the Lord..." It was truly interesting and somewhat surprising to see into the lives of these artists at a close range. They made the point that they, like all of us, pass through trials and have their ups and downs.
The concerts at night were more than exciting, featuring the Vocal Band, Angie Primm, The Issacs, The Martins, Charlotte Ritchie and Buddy Greene, among many others. David Phelps sang a couple of solos. Yay!
Those times spent listening to these musicians were not just 'listening to musicians', they were visits to another world. The music that flowed from the stage into the audience was a means by which one could go places one has never gone before. The songs made us laugh, cry, do both at the same time, and served as a balm to our souls. They invited us to focus on things that are important and to lay aside things that are not.
***
The scenery was awesome!
A crystal world; an icy scene
Like pages from a magazine
Where glaciers loom and seals float.
And turquoise flows beneath the boat
Silver sheets of sleet and hail
The forceful spouting of a whale
Swirling fog across the strand
A summer's kind of winter land
***
There was one family aboard the ship that really caught our eye; with a special focus on the dad. We chanced to sit near them several times in the cafeteria, and found them quite intriguing. He and his wife were in their mid to late forties, obviously from another country, with two daughters in their late teens or early 20s. They didn't overly look like a Christian family, for reasons I will not go into here. The dad was kind of a handsome guy with a dark pony tail pulled back tightly. Their conversations at the table were often quite animated, and unfortunately in a different language so nosey JoAnne couldn't understand them. I did happen to run into one of the daughters in the ladies room one time and nailed her down as to what language it was! "Swiss German" was the answer.
I have to admit that early on I thought the dad seemed a bit arrogant, and gave him the nickname : "Hot Shot".
Early on, we noticed Hot Shot, his wife, and their daughters were in the very front row, right in front of the middle of the stage during a concert. He seemed to know all the words to the songs, and was singing along with gusto. The next concert we attended, there they were again, in the front row, with Hot Shot singing along with the Vocal Band. What was this guy doing, anyway; trying to get an audition with Bill Gaither?
There is a system while attending the concerts to make the seating arrangements fair. Everyone is given a tag with one of two colors, and one has priority seating on a rotating basis, depending on what color tag one has. Oz noted that it didn't matter what color tag Hot Shot and his family had, they would 'thunder down the aisle' every time and get right in front of the stage; the best seating in the house! And so it went, concert after concert. Our booth was positioned so we could study Hot Shot and his family as well as the performing artists, so we spent a fair amount of time watching him during the songs! He sang, he laughed, he clapped, he raised his hands in worship and at times put his fists in the air. He seemed to hang on every word spoken from the stage, his face radiant.
He was 'into' the Gaithers like nobody we'd ever seen, I mean, this guy was DEVOTED. His fervor seemed unparalleled.
As days passed, he began to grow on us, instead of looking at him snidely, we started enjoying seeing him and his family during meals. I mean, we had to hand it to him, maybe on a silver platter. (Cruise appropriate!) He fairly lit up the front row during every concert, his enthusiasm was contagious, and it kind of washed over us and drew us along.
After the final concert, we remained seated for a few minutes as people filed past. When Hot Shot came by, he turned and looked right us, his face lighting up in a huge smile. There was no getting around it.
Hot Shot
Won a soft spot
In our hearts.
The cruise was a relaxing time of fun, laughter, beauty, melodious harmony (minus a couple of 'episodes'...), and fellowship. It was a time of pulling away from the rat race pace we face in our everyday lives.
It was a celebration of forty years together;
a drop in the ocean! :)
Footnote:
For two days after arriving home, JoAnne could feel the gentle rocking of the ship!!
Was she off her rocker.....?
Until next time,
Mizz Babs
