The Caravans- I Find No Fault In GOD/Work Until The Day Is Done

Perspective is a marvelous thing. It reminds us that the tiny irritations nibbling at our ankles are, in the grand cosmic ledger, barely footnotes and basically cosmic lint. You can carry them around like a grudge filled backpack, or you can shrug, breathe, and move on like a reasonably evolved human. Forgiveness is key, even when it feels like trying to hug a porcupine.

Why am I writing all this? Because I had to talk myself into praying for guidance and forgiveness over something so trivial it barely qualifies as a problem: returning my allegedly “self propelling” lawn mower to the shop that recently worked on it. Yesterday, while I was mowing with all the dignity of a suburban monarch, the back wheel with all its intricate mechanisms decided to detach itself and pursue a solo career. It had had enough of this earthly plane and simply fell off. Just… plop. Freedom achieved.

Naturally, the shop had failed to reassemble it properly. So, I drove it back to the shop and watched them attempt the ancient art of performing interpretive excuses — a delicate dance in which they tried to explain why it wasn’t their fault — gravity, vibes, the alignment of Jupiter, who knows. Eventually, reason prevailed when they finally realized the wheel was, in fact, a crucial part of the self propelling mechanism they had worked on. Their grand concession? They wouldn’t charge me to repair it (again). I maintained my composure with the serene poise of a man who has decided, for once, not to unleash his inner operatic diva. I consider that a personal triumph.

I suppose this is where music makes its entrance — gliding in like a well‑dressed accomplice, giving me every excuse to abandon the day’s nonsense and slide, effortlessly, into something resembling peace. In the land of music: I haven’t listened to much Shirley Caesar, even though her records seem to multiply in every crate I flip through. And I’ll admit, I had no idea she was in the Caravans. But this little single? A delight. The sleeve doesn’t match the 45, but the pairing looks fantastic and it feels intentional like two stylish strangers who met at a bus stop and immediately began harmonizing. 

“I Find No Fault in God” came belting out of the speakers yesterday while I was recording it, and I thanked God for forgiving all my pettiness — including my temporary, mower related descent into melodrama.