Going Godward

I found the beginnings of an interesting and curious new blog by a young Southern Christian mom calling herself and her blog; “Going Godward.” Her first expressions in this new blog of hers in many ways expresses what to some extent, I am doing with this blog of mine.

Going Godward

May 9, 2021

There’s something about the ground you grow up on that stays with you long after you wander. That’s true for me and the red dirt. I really did grow up on a dirt road. My school bus was no match for the red, Georgia clay after an afternoon thunderstorm. The tow truck had to come pull us out of the mud more times than I can count.

The foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, a southern section of the greater Appalachians, are a mighty fine setting for childhood and coming of age, and it is where my cultural inheritance lies. Preserving it feels like my life’s mission.

Perhaps, that’s why I am writing now. I feel a sense of urgency to tell the stories of my childhood – of my region. I don’t know if it’s my age or what seems to be the shifting cultural sands that prove less sturdy than my red clay footing, but I feel I must tell you everything I can recall. And, I want to tell you, reader, how my life has taken shape – how I’ve wandered over mountains, and through valleys, and been marred in mud – I want to tell you the story of a red dirt girl going Godward.

Pretty Baby 1964

Doris Day

In 1948, Doris Day recorded a song called, “Pretty Baby.”

It was a huge hit in 1948, especially since all the GIs were returning home from overseas and marrying their sweethearts and starting families. Hence the “baby boom” that began with all of these joyous reunions and marriages.

Pretty Baby, 1964

“For you’re just a baby to me
Your cunning little dimples and your baby stare
Your baby talk and baby walk and curly hair
Your baby smile makes life worthwhile
You’re just as sweet as you can be”
Doris Day

“Everybody loves a baby that’s why I’m in love with you
Pretty Baby, Pretty Baby
And I’d to be your sister, brother, dad and mother too
Pretty Baby, Pretty Baby
Won’t you come and let me rock you in my cradle of love
And we’ll cuddle all the time
Oh! I want a Lovin’ Baby and it might as well be you
Pretty Baby of mine”
Doris Day