“’Tis alright.”
When I read Lone Ranger’s text, I immediately heard her. Her words brought a smile to my face because at the time, she was away at a summer program, and I hadn’t talked to her in a day or so. She usually says this phrase with a hint of a British accent, and it carries myriad meanings:
- Things are “mid.”
- Things are so-so or okay; it could be better, but no complaints.
- Everything’s right with her world.
Though I try to keep my ears and heart attuned, I don’t always detect the subtle differences. It was much easier when she was a baby when I could identify her every cry. The Lord knows it has taken more than one teen tutorial to explain “mid”—No, not just okay or middle of the road, but bad; ’tis terrible, in fact. Yet, I know Lone Ranger is the main one in our household who uses this phrase, and she wrote it exactly the way she says it.
“All is well” is my version of Lone Ranger’s “’Tis alright.” Many a person has heard or read this answer of mine, whose meaning varies from
- I’m losing body parts or bandaging my broken heart.
- I’m gritting my teeth, but if I say it often and loud enough, I’ll believe it.
- I trust God’s got it.
Folks who know me know the difference.
My sisters and I debate everything from politics to pound cake recipes, but our parents’ voices? Those we agree on. We can each mimic Mama’s unique inflection or Daddy’s particular tone and can recognize who we’re talking about without saying a name. My characters in my next release, The Stories We Carry, can both quote their parents verse by verse even if they don’t see eye to eye on much else. Memories of them dog and determine their every step.
Don’t we all have people in our lives who know how we sound, react, or behave? Mine can tell you that on Sundays, I like to slip on a caftan that’s lounge-worthy but too sparkly to be pajamas so I can still greet comp’ny; my policy is “If it crawls across my threshold, it doesn’t get escorted out in a cup”; I prefer to binge an entire series than watch a two-hour movie; and I get quiet when I’m angry and funny when I’m uncomfortable. (Now all y’all know, too.) Our near-and-dear folks know why we laugh, what makes us cry, and that we still love them even if they haven’t heard from us in a minute. And if I said, “’Tis alright,” they’d ask me why I sounded like I belonged on Downton Abby instead of on my back porch. And that I rarely sit on my back porch.
Because they know me. They know my voice—and where my voice usually hails from.
Such mirrors my relationship with the Lord, who hails from on high, yet abides within. As one of His own, I should be able to recognize that it’s God speaking, because “…the one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for Him, and the sheep recognize his voice and come to him. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. After he has gathered his own flock, he walks ahead of them, and they follow him because they know his voice. They won’t follow a stranger; they will run from him because they don’t know his voice.” (John 10:2-5)
Well, I’m running full out to Jesus, and I’m tripping over His feet in my desperation to draw nearer to Him and away from the world. I’m close enough He can clasp my shoulder and chide, “Robin, Robin…” when I take my eyes off the good part, to hear Him whisper “No,” “Yes,” or “Wait,” and trust that He’s telling me “All is truly well,” not merely ’tis alright. In my desire to know Him and be known by Him and to believe Him—not merely believe in Him—I’m striving to imitate and heed my heavenly Father just as I imitate the parents He gave me. I study His Word, front to back and not only the ones in red, to determine His direction and His answers.
And what is the Lord saying at such a time as this?
He is our comfort. “As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you…” (Isaiah 66:13)
He is our hope. “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.” (Psalm 42:11)
He is our joy. “…I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you…” “(John 16:22)
He doesn’t fail or falter. “God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:26)
He’s in charge and nothing surprises Him. “For by Him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through Him and for him. And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” (Colossians 1: 16, 17)
He is our peace. “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)
He’s not done. “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” (Romans 8:18)
I don’t always understand His message, and there’s still so much for this babe in arms to learn…and endure. He’ll probably have to Godsplain this same word to me more than a few times in the hard days to come. Yet I know that in terms of my soul, all is well. ’Tis alright.
