At the Battle of Spotylvania Courthouse, on May 9, 1864, he was dismayed to see his heaquarters staff ducking to avoid bullets being fired from a thousand yards away. When a subordinate begged him to find cover, Sedgwick said, "They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance!"
And then he was shot in the head.
Superstition's a funny thing. How many of us claim to scorn it, and then step around cracks in the siewalk, or avoid walking under ladders?
Here, it takes the form of my saying (to Barb's horror), "Well, it could be worse."
And then it gets worse.
Granted, it's going to get wore anyway (cancer's kinda irritating, that way), but it's eerie how the statement is usually followed by a sharp setback.
So I don't say it any more. And I carry a rabbit's foot.
Which didn't work out so well for the rabbit.
Just kidding; that's one thing I don't do, but, influenced my the dogs, I do turn around three times before going to bed.
I mean, can't hurt, right?
Hell is now in session here,
and won't be ending soon,
and surcease seems as near
as Burroughs' Mars, Barsoom.
The pain that outlives the night
is worsened by the day,
and tumours of such hideous fright
grow on, without delay.
I wish that I could call a truce,
that I could catch my breath,
but save my words, for what's the use,
I can't move the heart of death.
So I take the pierced hand of He
who offers to share the road with me.
And here, of course, is Stevie Wonder with...yep...Superstition.
Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.
Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.
Marley, the canine waif from Afghanistan, whom WE helped save, has a Facebook page! Please drop by to see how happy he is today.
"If I say, "Surely the night will fall on me, even the night will be Light around me." ... The only superstition I remember really having growing up was when I was a young girl. Someone had painted "Jesus Saves" in neat stenciled red letters on the sidewalk in front of their house. On our adventure to "Speedy Mart" to buy candy with a pocket of allowance change, it became a ritual to have to touch those letters on the way. HAD to. NEEDED to. Through the years, many life struggle tears were shed along that walk, as I stepped on those letters (by then faded but their memory and import still bright and fresh)... Stepping on those letters again this early morning for you, Andrew. Jesus, save my friend from these painful darts. Let the bubble of your grace infiltrate every nerve ending being messed with. Let there be real respite from his and Barb's pain. Rise up, Lord. Send in every troop on their behalf.
ReplyDeleteJane, thank you so much for sharing this memory with me!
DeleteI have to share one with you...when I was growing up, I too regularly saw a sign that said 'Jesus Saves', and I had to touch it. Every time I passed.
It was in front of a bank, and the full text was, "Jesus Saves...2at .3%, compounded daily!"
I have a feeling that whoever thought that up was scheduled for the eternal flames, but God was laughing too hard to remember to sign the orders.
Yes Jesus shares the road with you, and He has before and after. There is no superstition in that. I love your words, and your heart!
ReplyDeleteMary, thank you so much for this...and most especially for being here. I am always graced by your presence, and your words.
DeleteI'll be keeping my fingers crossed for you - at least until I need to use my hands. ;-)
ReplyDeleteJan, LOL! The New Dog, Belle, has a habit of lying down with her front paws crossed over one another, so I think she'll be willing to keep that watch when you need to use your hands.
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