#6 The Panic-stricken seconds and the closing smile
Listening to: the melancholic mood yet upbeat tempo combination of Isaac Delusion’s Let Her Go
I’ve been pondering the future, lately.
Future.
Lately.
Two words that sound so ill-suited to one another.
But it is what has occupied my days. The future bleeds into our present, persistent and stubborn. It is, after all, only one second ahead.
The Righteous Brothers sing about time going by so slowly, when in fact, as mid-year came and went, we ask ourselves where the time ran off to. Or rather, when did it decide to ferrari itself into oblivion.
I watch videos on crises in Australia, in Japan, in Canada. The cost of housing becomes unaffordable, either you eat or you pay rent.
And the chance of ever purchasing a home becomes second to none.
People have begun living in their cars.
I extrapolate all these videos I’m watching into my own life.
And for more than a minute, I am ashamed to say -
I, who count my faith in God as the defining purpose of my existence,
I, who wrote a memoir about my relationship with God and how it kept life at bay,
I, who said: were it not for God, life would have crushed me.
I felt panic.
Dread crept inside all those nooks I thought were panic-proof.
And I felt very much a one-man army.
I’ve written about how God breaches the divide that separateness imposes on the human condition. I never feel alone. I always have a sense of God watching over me.
Even now, as I type these words in my kitchen I can feel His reassuring presence. A non-believer could not possibly understand God abiding within (Romans 8:9-11, Romans 8:14-17, John 14:23, John 14:16-18) but if you’re a believer, you feel, you sense, you know.
And despite knowing, for one brief moment, as I watched Justin Trudeau talk about housing while the narrator speaking over Trudeau, highlighted the dire dire situation, making folks actually flee Canada (because there simply is no future to be found), for one brief moment it was I who found myself adrift, without a future, feeling a weighty disconnect from my God.
My mind went back to Scripture:
Isaiah 41:10 - So do not be scared for I am with you. Do not be discouraged for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
This has been a very trying time for my family.
Yet life is never “not-trying”. The pilgrimage, the trek on Earth is characterized by strife and struggle.
And it is all used by God to usher us onwards.
I have never found myself in awe of those to whom everything was given. On the contrary, my awe lies at the feet of those from whom most things were taken, and yet they clung to God; becoming tiny lights in the darkness.
The weight of the glory of God, his “kavod” (in Hebrew) is what made Moses’ face shine. A second hidden behind a rock, while the presence of God passed by, was enough to bathe him in light. Light that lasted for days.
Moses had to wear a veil, such was his light.
This same light resides in us, through the Holy Spirit of God, our comforter.
The Duracell battery that powers us up and so we shine, these tiny lights that comfort others. And for a moment, God’s glory is brought closer. We become His hands, His embrace, His words.
Isn’t that the Kingdom? The place where Jesus is King. Where everything is illuminated by the light of His glory, where we dole out benedictions. Where we comfort and are comforted.
But to understand the light (as much as one can) we have to grapple with the dark.
So times may be rough, but we are not helpless.
I am not helpless.
Certainly not hopeless.
Never forgotten.
I am seen and thoroughly known.
I say this to myself as I lift my eyes to the sky -not because God resides there, it is but a cumulus of gas and light, but the sky is what reminds me of him. The Maker of the stars. The Source of all Light.
Philippians 4:8-9 New International Version
8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.
One must self-censor.
Catch the panic-stricken seconds and wage the winning battle.
And close it off with smile.
A sad smile.
A tired smile.
But a smile.
For all He’s already done. And for all that He will do.
David, the great biblical song composer would censor himself and take his mind back to the goodness of His Creator. We can learn from him:
Psalms 43:5 NLT
Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again— my Savior and my God!
The negative monologue in our head is life-flattening.
But we can life-affirm. Speak to ourselves and know that we are not our thoughts.
So if you’re going through a rough patch, take heart. The Spirit of the Living God dwells within you.
He will never slacken the (loving) grip with which he holds us.
John 10:27-30 New Living Translation
27 My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. 28 I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one can snatch them away from me, 29 for my Father has given them to me, and he is more powerful than anyone else.[a] No one can snatch them from the Father’s hand. 30 The Father and I are one.”
Listening to Issac Delusion’s “Let Her Go”
Don’t you just love the musical stuff in minor chords?
Especially when the minor chord emotional zeitgeist of the song is accompained by a faster tempo, a beat that should be uplifting, but no. Paired with the melancholy of the song, it creates a fascinating musical dichotomy that sinks it’s musical hooks into your soul (this is a good thing, good musical hooks).
It truly is my favorite type of sonic texture.
A-HA does it beautifully in “I’ve Been Losing You”, as does The Cure with “Lovesong” - and Simon Gallup’s bassline is of course, excellent.
In this stylistc vein, Isaac Delusion’s Let Her Go, from their 2024 album Lost & Found (four years in the making), reaches minor chord (ok, maybe one, but the tone is melancholic) and upbeat-tempoey dichotomous perfection. Yes, I used a lot of adjectives.
The lyrics are sweet enough, kids leaving the parental home and parents learning to let go, and ID’s dream pop is as enchanting as ever.
A lovely song to walk to.
And speaking of walking:
Buenos Aires Moments
The first three photos are on the iconic Avenida Alvear, one of the loveliest (and wealthiest) avenues of Buenos Aires. It’s characterized by having two Hotels Particuliers (Grand Private Palaces) on the block, one Victorian palace, a Petit Hotel (smaller mansion) and several Edificios de Renta in a Rationalist language and French Academicist language. There’s even one Petit Hotel that resembles the Rucellai Palace in Florence.
Photos 1-3: the first building reminds me of an airport lounge (I’ve hardly traveled abroad; sadly, there were always more pressing things needed to be done with the funds; but my mind and heart have travelled far and wide) -as I was saying, this building, Rationalist if we had to put a label on it, maybe Modern is more fitting (the Pilotis remind me of Le Corbusier) never ceases to impress me. There’s just something about those lights in the hall, the clean lines, the tree. It looks warm and inviting, like you’d sit inside, wait for your flight in a cozy seat and read while having coffee (and do some people-watching).
And those lights. Gosh, I love city lights, lounge lights, soft lighting.
These towers stem from the vision of celebrated architect Mario Roberto Álvarez, who imagined two elegant structures — one reaching 28 stories high, the other 12 — built with a sturdy reinforced concrete frame. Rising proudly on Avenida Alvear, they quickly became part of the neighborhood’s refined charm and architectural heritage.
In 1991, this remarkable project was recognized by the Central Society of Architects and the Professional Council of Architecture and Urban Planning, who awarded it their Annual Architecture Prize in the Collective Multifamily Housing category — a tribute to its thoughtful design and lasting beauty.
Photo 4: Alice and the Rabbit embedded into the sidewalk (Caballito district).
Photo 5: A beautiful eclectic facade in Recoleta. Pointed arches, classical pilasters on the second floor, balustrades. A rose window. And it’s for sale.
Photo 6: Raymundo Glayzer was a documentary filmmaker who was detained and made missing (translation of detenido desaparecido) during the Argentinian Dictatorship of the 70’s. The plate honors his memory.
Photo 7: Street where I came across the plate (Recoleta District)








