I mean, when you can't bend over to tie your shoes without throwing up...
I think it shows how much God trusts me.
I used to think of the Parable of the Talents, that if you do well in smaller things, God will trust you with bigger things...and the implication, to me, was being trusted with stuff like wealth and status and fame and power.
But it may be a lot harder to be entrusted with pain and exhaustion and having the Angel of Death as a permanent dinner guest...while still believing, and keeping a positive attitude.
Let's dance! As long as you can dance, you lack nothing...and lack is the Five Minute Friday writing prompt this week.
I'm dancing on the precipice,
upon the windy ledge,
trusting that my feet won't miss
its vague inconstant edge.
I'm dancing with a joyous heart
some say I can't afford,
but in the dance I play my part;
I'm dancing for the Lord.
I'm dancing for the grace He gave
to be grateful for the pain
that proved His conquest of the grave.
He rose, and will remain.
This is no frantic dance of death;
it's the newborn leap of Living Breath.
If you're going out, go out bloody.
As a PS, I wrote this on the morning of Thursday, April 11, 2019...and by afternoon the day had devolved into something so ghastly and frightening, I find that words fail me.
I can see the growing tumours in the mirror.
And, just for you, or maybe for me, a final quatrain:
Tho' the enemy win this round
and in hauteur bids me kneel,
I will in pride fall to the ground
and my teeth shall rend his heel.
Music from Lee Ann Womack, with I Hope You Dance.
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.
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.
Andrew, you always amaze me! And I love that song by Lee Ann Womack. Your poem is great and I love this thought: "This is no frantic dance of death;
ReplyDeleteit's the newborn leap of Living Breath." Amen! Love and prayers to you and yours, incl. your dogs!
Gayl, thank you so much! We truly appreciate the love and prayers, all of us.
DeleteKind of funny..."I Hope You Dance" is one of the few songs that I remember exactly where I was when I first heard it.
I think the first time I heard it was on the radio while driving somewhere. Not sure exactly when, though.
DeleteYour Dying Spouse 98 - The Comfort of John 3:16
ReplyDelete"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him might not perish but might have eternal life."
As I write this, the pain in my upper right abdomen is intolerable. It's like a large fish-hook has been passed under the ribs, and pushed out my back...and it's being tugged. Hard.
Morphine is not helping, and there's no getting away from it, save going to an ER and getting knocked out.
That's not an option, for two reasons. First, I have no insurance - can't afford it - and saddling Barbara with that kind of debt would be rather selfish on my part.
But there's a more fundamental reason not to go. I have to witness this. Yes, I'm cheating by taking morphine, but I'm not taking enough to put me under. Because of cost constraints I have to ration it, yes, but it would simply be wrong to bid pain a temporary 'Adios!" and drift off into la-la land.
Taking up the mantle of the highest presumption, I might be tempted to say that Jesus bore the pain, so I've got to do it, too.
I'm not getting myself measured for a robe and sandals, and have not yet ordered a halo from Amazon. And I look really bad in a beard.
It's just this...John 3:16 is both a Gift, and a Responsibility. We're called to live like Jesus, and He didn't back down from the pain He knew was coming, because He had to both take on our sins and thus expunge them...and He had to witness the process to the world.
So now I have a chance to witness a terribly painful and scary journey. How can I pass on this cup, how can I even think of trying to escape? Only a fool would say, "I love this painful and debilitating illness!", and I'm no fool (well, usually...or maybe sometimes not)///but I am here.
What would Jesus do?
I hope that I am right in this, that He would say that in spite of truly evil physical pain - and fear of how much worse it might get - He would say that life, from moment to moment - is still something for which to be grateful, that the promise of eternal life with the Almighty transcends each dreadful spasm.
And more than that (can there be more?).
Yes, maybe there can. Life is not about me. It's about you guys, reading this, who may be where Barbara is, as a caregiver, or who may be where I am (I hope you're not!)...or who may be in one of these place, one day.
I want you to know that there is still fun and joy here. I want you to know that you still have love to give, and that you can extend a hand and heart of faith to those who are faltering.
John 3:16 means that you matter.
December 2015, Andrew Budek.
WOW Tammy. Thank you for sharing this from the archives. xo
DeleteTammy, I'm just privileged to still be here. I don't know why.
DeleteOne of my favourite songs, Andrew, and you are such an example of someone 'giving faith a fighting chance'.
ReplyDeleteBut I can't help the Occupational Therapist in me from suggesting elastic shoelaces and a long handled shoehorn!
Much love and continued prayers x
Liz, I am so glad you enjoyed this...and I had no idea that elastic laces and a long-handled shoehorn existed!
DeleteThank you so much for the prayers, and love back!
This country music fan is reminded of Garth Brooks singing:
ReplyDelete"Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd have to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I the king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance"
((((Andrew))))
Annie in Texas
((((((Annie!))))))
DeleteThis is great...thank you!
Such beautiful and encouraging words in the midst of such pain. You have a gift, Andrew. These words especially:
ReplyDeleteit's the newborn leap of Living Breath.
And that song: so precious. Thank you for encouraging us from the depths. May God return that blessing multiplied to you and Barbara both. ❤
Anna, thank you so much for this...your words are filled ith grace!
DeleteBeautiful words as always, Andrew! I love that song and I'm always struck by your faith and your positivity in the midst of such suffering. Praying for you and Barbara!
ReplyDeleteLesley, thank you so much for your prayers and kind words...and I'm so glad you enjoyed the song!
DeleteWow! I hadn't heard that song before, and it gave me chills! So beautiful. Your writing and poetry is amazing. I'm visiting you from FMF #39 this weekend.
ReplyDeleteMyrna, it really is a wonderful song. It had me from the first hearing. Thank you so much for being here!
DeleteAndrew...your faith in pain makes me feel so small in mine. Faith is hard to be joyful in when pain is biting hard.
ReplyDeleteAnnette, a lot of the faith I have, I have drawn from your writing. 'A Net In Time' is one of my prime faith resources.
DeleteAndrew I have never looked at the talents this way. Thank you. I love and appreciate your wisdom. And the song...it was popular when I miscarried. it has always meant so much. Praying for you right now. God bless you.
ReplyDeleteKelly, thank you so much for this...and I am so very, very sorry for the miscarriage. I know that the pain softens, but it never goes away, and you are in my prayers, as I thank you for yours.
DeleteBlessings to you, brother. You're a remarkable warrior and fighter. May God surround you with his supernatural power every second of your life. Grace upon grace, blessings upon blessings, peace upon peace, love upon love.
ReplyDeleteMari-Anna, He really is here...always. I have the life I would never have thought to ask for, but always wanted, right here, right now.
DeleteThank you so much for being here!
Love you and Barb. This is one of your best.
ReplyDeleteLove back, Paula, and thank you so much!
DeleteSo good... the desire and defiant will to dance for the Lord in the presence of the enemy... (Something about how He is preparing a table there, too!) Love you brother! Praying for you and Barb!
ReplyDeleteKarrilee, thank you so much for this! Prayers are so appreciated, and we love you back!
DeleteThat poem is beautiful. The Lord is indeed preparing a table. Love you and praying for both you and Barb!
ReplyDeleteTara, thank you so much...love back, from both of us.
DeleteBeing entrusted with the pain and exhaustion - the one experiencing and the one taking care - that is worth more than wealth. I love how you pulled that out - I understand that now as taking care of the one I love suffering pain and exhaustion - and I understand how big a love it is for the one suffering the pain to love through the pain and exhaustion. Priceless nugget you've given!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for this lovely, welcome affirmation...and for being here!
DeleteI'm not usually one for poetry, but I am enjoying yours. Just wish you weren't writing it from such a place of experience. Know that you are in my prayers. Thanks for sharing your truth with us.
ReplyDelete"I used to think of the Parable of the Talents, that if you do well in smaller things, God will trust you with bigger things...and the implication, to me, was being trusted with stuff like wealth and status and fame and power.
ReplyDeleteBut it may be a lot harder to be entrusted with pain and exhaustion and having the Angel of Death as a permanent dinner guest...while still believing, and keeping a positive attitude"
I have never, not even once, considered that Scripture in this light! Definitely something I want to ponder and journal about. Thank you.
I wanted to add that I'm so glad Tammy shared that post from 2015. I was a caregiver -- for my then 47-year old husband back in 2009. I know you are very (how do I say this without putting something there that isn't) mindful or concerned or even worried about Barbara. Your love for her shines through over and again. I'm praying for her as well, and I hope that if she ever wants to talk, she can reach out to me.