At a time of uprooting and forsaking all once again, my wife was finding it difficult and this song came then. It held the promise of better things ahead as we had always experienced in similar times before. Encouraged, we plodded on.
Don’t ever let your bottom lip hang down;
Don’t let it happen when I’m around.
I’d rather see a smile on your face;
A frown on you is so out of place…
CHORUS:
You know there’s lots to be thankful for.
You needn’t crawl; let your spirit soar.
Before you know it I’ll be back for more
Of your smile…of your smile.
We all have troubles that are hard to take;
We have bad habits that are hard to break.
Don’t let them get you down for goodness’ sake;
You need to know your happiness is at stake…
CHORUS
There’s open highway just around the bend;
Morning’s almost here for us, my friend.
Then tears and sorrow will be at an end;
It won’t be long before for us He’ll send…
CHORUS
Lethbridge, AB; September 18, 1983
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There exists the notion that victory speaks only of joy, peace, love, rest in their counterfeit forms, the wishy-washy, mushy-gushy kind that has no place in reality. This song expresses the reality. There is war before victory. With war comes bloodshed, hard times, threatenings, loss and destruction, but the victory is there in real terms, earned and established by the Lord.
On September 24, 1996, Marilyn prophesied that the Lord was taking me, as He did Moses, for trespass, and that He had a ministry in the next world for me even as He had for Moses (as was seen on the mount of transfiguration). There came a resignation on my part, with sadness, and in this circumstance came this song which expresses that God does have a place reserved for saints. It is the destination of every believer, the goal of his spiritual trials and journey.
This satire is an expression of a time oft repeated wherein I felt incredulous and scornful of the thinking of so-called "theologians." They shape and size God, formulate the things they think He does, analyze Him, dissect Him, figure Him all out, put Him back together again according to their desires and tastes and put Him in a neat box, gift-wrapped and stamped, ready to be reproduced and mass-marketed to the ignorant masses the world over who swallow their doctrines as unsuspecting fish swallow bait, hook, line, sinker and rod. By the way, God hates the term "theology." How presumptuous is man that he should dare try to study God!