A few years ago, our youngest daughter, Elizabeth, gave us Amazon’s Alexa as a gift.
According to Wikipedia, Alexa is described as virtual assistant technology largely based on a Polish speech synthesizer.
I do not have the gray matter to comprehend the internal workings of this technology.
A precisely cut piece of marble sitting atop an antique storage cabinet is where Alexa sits in our eat-in kitchen.
I love being able to say to Alexa, play “When The Sun Sets On The Sage” by Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen. And in a matter of seconds, the song is playing.
That’s how I stumbled upon a recording of a song by Alison Krauss and James Taylor—titled “How’s The World Treating You?”
The song was written in 1952 by Chet Atkins and Boudleaux ( pronounced Bood Low) Bryant.
The recording by Alison Krauss and James Taylor appeared on the 2003 tribute album—
Livin’, Lovin’, Losin’: Songs of the Louvin Brothers.
The Louvin Brothers were an American duo who from the mid-fifties into the early sixties were known in country music for their tight harmonies. The brothers, Ira and Charlie, were very successful until Ira’s death in 1965.
In 2004, this tribute album won two Grammy awards, including Best Country Collaboration with Vocals for Alison Krauss and James Taylor.
The song is a classic country tear-jerker about the end of a broken romance.
Lyrically, the writer captures the brokenhearted feelings with lines like: “I’ve had nothing, but sorrow, there’s no hope for tomorrow, every sweet thing that mattered has been broken in two, how’s the world treating you?”
With the madness of March and the NCAA men’s and women’s basketball tournament, I imagine some fans feel “nothing, but sorrow, no hope for tomorrow, and have been left brokenhearted,” when their favorite team was beaten in the tournament.
Clearly, these discouraged fans probably feel like the world is not treating them too well.
And yet, the song’s title, “How’s the world treating you?” is relevant for people who have been punched hard by life.
How is life treating the families of the construction workers who fell into the cold waters of the Patapsco River when the Key Bridge collapsed after being pummeled by a massive container ship?
How is life treating the families of a Texas school bus that was carrying Pre-K students when it was hit by a cement truck. The crash injured 51 and killed two. The students were returning from a field trip to a Texas zoo. Sadly, the driver’s confessed use of marijuana, cocaine, and lack of sleep contributed to the accident.
How is life treating the families of the loved ones who were killed and injured in the terrorist attack that took place at a concert in Moscow?
How is the world treating the family where Alzheimer’s disease has pushed a loved one into Hospice care?
How is the world treating the person who can’t find a ray of hope in any daylight as depression continues to wear this silent soul down?
Clearly, how the world treated my NCAA bracket is nothing in comparison to the brokenness that people experience any place in the world twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
Proverbs Chapter 18, verse 14 reads: “The human spirit will endure sickness; but a broken spirit—who can bear?
I suppose I could ask Alexa who is responsible to help mend broken human spirits?
Maybe, Ed Sykes would be her answer.
For several weeks, I’ve been reading the book, The Patch and The Stream Where The American Fell.
This book was written by former United States Air Force Fighter Pilot, Ed Sykes. While flying a fighter jet during the Vietnam War, Lt. Sykes experienced the multiple challenges of wartime trauma. This included the loss of his roommate whose jet was shot down while completing a bombing mission.
Forty years later, and still haunted by the death of his friend, Lt. Sykes made a commitment to recover his roommate’s remains from the Laotian terrain where the jet crashed.
Sykes, with devotion and support from his roommate’s family, led the diplomatic and personal effort to recover Dave Dinan’s remains. He held firm to “Leave No Man Behind.”
Everyday, we encounter people who the world has left behind.
As best we can, with gentle, sincere kindness, we need to let these people know that while not experts in providing counseling or therapy, that you, me, we, us do care.
And maybe our caring includes hanging on to this wisdom from playwright, Eugene O’Neill: “Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.”
might be baloney 