Writing ahead of time again, because strength is now measurably failing. Unfortunate, but expected...and not resented. God disposes. If I can work this week's word in, I will.
(The word's WEAK.)
Hollywood makes dying seem easy. The patient's got a fashionable pallor, and is pretty lucid all the way up to the end...hanging on to make a final heartwarming Hallmark-moment speech.
The reality's different; the pallor's not pretty, and various parts of the body bloat badly from time to time.
You limp, and sometimes crawl.
And talking's hard. I try to say a couple of words and I start coughing which turns into dry heaves that feel like they;re going to tear me in half. Barb figures that in a spell like this, it's how I'm going to die.
Then the blood comes up.
How would you like to see that on a twenty-foot-tall screen at your local mall theatre?
Hold the ketchup on the hot dog, yeah.
And incontinence. Not something for the silver screen.
But it's all good, and it's all still a life more blessed and fruitful than I could ever imagine, because in the times between...I'm enjoying the life I have.
The small moments that I would have let pass - the sound of a bird singing an unusual song, for example - moments I would have let pass, I now hold to my heart.
There's some laughter, too...I wrote about it in my last post, and you can read it here if you like.
And night-time...one would think that's when the fears and anguish come, because there's nothing to distract the mind from the pain that's keeping one awake, and the prospect of unknown horrors to come...
But no. It's a quiet time, and while it's physically very uncomfortable I can hear the dogs snoring and barking in their dreams, the hum of the refrigerator, the distant clang! from the railyard in the valley, the soft whine of an airliner high overhead.
Those gentle good sounds. They call me to life, and the darkness does not call me to death.
And most of all the knowledge that I still have the strength to say, Look, even when you're hurting and hope is slipping away, life can be good, because God is still good.
He didn't wish this on me; He's not testing me. He's drying His tears at the necessity for a fallen world that admits pain...
And He's holding out His hand.
Not to support me while I'm puking (OK, sometimes)...
But to dance. And it's not a dance for the weak, but for those who put on His strength.
I hope you dance.
A bit of news..."Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart" has come home! Tate Publishing has gone south, and I regained the rights, so it'll soon be available in both Kindle hardcopy versions once again. In the meantime, if you absolutely can't wait (!), you can still get used copies from Amazon.
I have another blog, "Starting The Day With Grace". The focus is a grace quote from someone you might not expect (like, say Mick Jagger) and a short commentary. I hope you'll join me.
Marley update... been moved to a sanctuary, and Bay County will revise their 'dangerous dog' codes.
WE MADE A DIFFERENCE!
And marley has a Facebook page! Please drop by to see how happy he is today.
If you can, please do leave a comment. I am trying to answer all, and I am failing, but please know this - I read and treasure each one.
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.
"Those gentle good sounds. They call me to life, and the darkness does not call me to death." It's great that you can notice the small, beautiful things in the midst of the pain and sorrow and know that God is good. Many blessings to you, Andrew. Oh, and I love that song!
ReplyDeleteGayl, thank you so much. The big thing worth learning on this journey is just how important those small things are - far more fulfilling than the 'big dreams' I had!
DeleteAnd I'm so glad you enjoyed the song. It's one of my favourites.
I've come to learn that when God wakes me up in the middle of the night, I need to listen. One day, Andrew. One day, you and I will dance down the streets of gold, and my momma will be there singing us a song. (((Hugs)))
ReplyDeleteHugs,
Melinda (Your neighbor at FMF)
Melinda, I look forward to that blessed day! Hugs back!
DeletePraying for you, Andrew...
ReplyDeleteCindy, thank you so very, very much for the prayers.
DeleteYou are anything but weak in my book Andrew! You have a spirit that is strong and beautiful! Blessings friend!
ReplyDeleteMary, you've made my day. Thank you so much for this.
DeleteAwww, Andrew, again. Your words speak straight to my heart. The little things you notice in the quiet of the night. The perspective you share . . . they convey a gentle, realer-than-real truth. God is with you.
ReplyDeleteThis: "He's drying His tears at the necessity for a fallen world that admits pain...
And He's holding out His hand.
Not to support me while I'm puking (OK, sometimes)...
But to dance. And it's not a dance for the weak, but for those who put on His strength."
I'm praying for you tonight. And for Barb. And for the dogs. And that you'll know His presence throughout this night. Blessed by you, friend.
Jeanne, thank you so much. Your words and affirmation mean the world to me.
DeleteAnd your prayers are felt deeply by all of us.
I love how in the midst of your physical weakness it is so evident that God is strengthening you spiritually and I admire your ability to find joy in the little things.
ReplyDeleteLesley, thank you so much. I wonder if the joy in small things is some evidence of God's 'still, small voice'?
DeleteSo glad you're here today!
Andrew, I've come to enjoy the hours I lie awake in the middle of the night - oh sure I'd like to sleep straight through, but I don't. In the quiet, I pray and listen. I used to hate to lie awake but I have learned to find joy in it...and peace. xo
ReplyDeleteSusan, isn't it quite wonderful to come to that place in which one can. finally, pray...and listen?
DeleteThank you so much for being here!
XOXOXOWaggyWaggyWOOF!
Thank you, Andrew. I would think nighttime would be the hardest. It sort of is for me. When anxiety stirs within, I'll feel it at night, through sleeplessness and my heart pounding out of my chest. But animals ... such a gift from God. My little girl cat comes to sleep beside me ... her little heart beating next to mine relaxes me and I sleep.
ReplyDeleteShelli, thank you so much for sharing your healing-cat with us! She is truly a gift from God.
DeleteAs are you, my friend.
I Hope You Dance is one of my fave songs. So glad you are still with us, brother. I'm over in the 43 spot this week.
ReplyDeleteTara, I'm so glad you like the song! One of my favourites, too.
DeleteAnd your post this week...so stunningly beautiful.
rother andrew,
ReplyDeleteevery time your words appear here, i'm quick to snatch them up. YOur reflections always speak to me, and this one is no less. Thank you for the reminder that Hollywood makes death into something its not, that the reality is not pretty but its reality. that there are good times and bad, and that those there is pain you are held. Dance my friend...hold on and dance.
Janel (viepourcettetemp.wordpress.com)
Janel, I'm so grateful for your words here, and this affirmation. It's an honour that you find meaning here, and I'm very grateful for your presence.
DeleteAnd I will hold on, and DANCE!
You just reminded me that I heard a bird singing this week!! I took his picture and wanted to share his story and you! just! reminded! me! Thank you.(Ok, I'll be back)
ReplyDeleteTondra, I love this! You'll make that bird famous! :)
DeleteAnd then of course there was this..."it's all still a life more blessed and fruitful than I could ever imagine"
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you so much for this, Tondra. Thank you for being here.
DeleteAndrew, your words humble me every time, and make me observe more. #59 this week.
ReplyDeleteOh, Mary...this means so much. Thank you. On my way to #59.
DeleteWOW! "even when you're hurting and hope is slipping away, life is good because God is still good." My mom said that to my sister and I right after our Dad passed away. I've heard it. I've read it, but it is still hard for me. I am not there, Andrew. I am not able to say in my heart all the time God is still good. He has infused you with faith and grace that Job held on to. Blessings.
ReplyDeleteLeigh, it's a process, and a hard one. I saw o much of my life fall apart - career, health, dreams, relationships - and for a long time I could not be convinced that God cared. But something inside me asked me to keep looking, for one more day. It wasn't 'eureka!' moment, but rather a slow accumulation of small blessings that eventually tipped the scales. I didn't know when it happened, but am sure glad it did.
DeleteI don't know if it might help, but I'd be glad to end you a PDF of "Faith In The Night". Please let me know? It' kind of a map of how I got here.
Thank you so much for being here.
Beautiful post, Andrew; thank you for it. Blessed by your words today.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Jeannie, and thank you for being here. I'm grateful for your presence.
DeleteThank you for sowing hope Andrew - you have rmeinded me that while I wait for my own miracles, I can still enjoy life and find something for the nerves or anxiety. Bless you! <3 and may Abba's Grace enfold you! Aliyah
ReplyDeleteAliyah, I'm so glad that my words touched you. That's so very important to me, and I truly appreciate your taking the time to let me know.
DeleteI'll be praying for you, and for the quick arrival of your miracles.
great post andrew. good reminder of the things that are happening while most of us sleep:)blessings. thanks for stopping by my blog today:)
ReplyDeleteMartha, I was honoured to visit your site; your wisdom is a source of comfort and support for me.
DeleteThanks so much for being here!
Oh, I needed this. Just came back from a visit to my grandmothers. It was reminder that the road to death is long, hard, and not as graceful as I'd imagined. I love this image of a dance for strength. Thank you for this, Andrew.
ReplyDeleteAnnie, I'm so glad that this could speak to you! I'll be keeping you in my prayers.
DeleteAndrew, I appreciate how you weave grace into a brutal reality. Thank you for sharing your story.
ReplyDeleteDebbie, thank you so much for this...and for being here today.
DeleteLast year, I experienced a lot of those symptoms before I was hospitalized with pneumonia. It wasn't fun - often dismaying. Your post shows how God redeems the so very, very hard - if we just let it. Those were 5 minutes gracefully spent, Andrew! Praying God's Shalom over this week for you and your wife!
ReplyDeletePneumonia! My gosh, that's not fun. Thank you so much for being here, and most especially for your prayers.
Delete