This will be, appropriately, a meditation on gratitude in the midst of terminal canc...ZZZZZZZZZ.
Oh, sorry. Just closed my eyes for a few minutes, and while I did this came to mind. Cancer, schmancer, who cares as long as you've got your health?
Be grateful for the
jumping frogs
and for the lowing cows.
Give thanks now for
barking dogs,
and the hogs and sows.
Look up and see the
eagle,
and low night-silent owl;
behold the bright and
regal
plumage-crest of guineafowl.
Lay praise upon the
stubborn goats,
and the wooly sheep
(gentle donors of their
coats
to give you warmer sleep).
And last, tip hat to
alligator,
who lent his rhyme to “See
you later!”
And, because I'm grateful for ABBA, here's Dancing Queen. (Please click here if the video doesn't load on your device.)
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.
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.
Marriage is not about two people looking at each other. Do that for too long, and it's "Good grief, what was I thinking? (Grief is the Five Minute Friday word-prompt, an I had to work it in somehow. Hey, don't laugh...it works, kinda.)
No, marriage is all about two people looking forward together, with shared values, and a shared vision.
I think that we should
find a way
to work together, Barb
and I,
at a job that’s also
play,
and is sweet unto the
eye.
We do have our share of
talents,
quick response and no
mean strength,
agility, and also
balance;
oh, I could go on at
length!
There is one venue that
will serve
our skill-set
cornucopia,
and thus we really do deserve
a shot at Wrestlemania,
a coed tag-team none can
match,
Genghis Kong and
SassyQuatch.
For anyone who's wondering how it's going, the simple answer is, really bad. Can't take anything near a full breath, and tumours in the armpits have my arms out at an angle, like the Michelin Man.
But hey, would Hulk Hogan quit? Jesse Ventura? Me neither!
Music from Barry Manilow, with Daybreak, simply because I like the song.
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.
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.
Alex Trebek is gone, fallen victim to pancreatic cancer.
He was a good man, a staunch Christian, as recorded in his words, from Guideposts(the embedded link in the quotation is a tribute to his wife, Jean):
“There were moments of great pain, days when certain bodily functions no longer functioned, and sudden massive attacks of great depression that made me wonder if it really was worth fighting on. But I brushed that aside quickly because that would have been a massive betrayal–a betrayal of my wife and soulmate Jean who has given her all to help me survive. And it would certainly have been a betrayal of my faith in God and the millions of prayers that have been said on my behalf.”
Pancreatic cancer is a horrible, cruel thing...the pain it engenders is unreal, and the humiliations, in uncontollable bowels and vomiting and soul-destroying fatigue and depression...well.
I never met Mr. Trebek. But his fight, carried out in faith and in public, was my lodestar.
If he could do it, I could try.
I am bereft. I know I should look to God, but I did look to Alex.
Hope isn't canceled, but it took a hit (and cancel is the Five Minute Friday word prompt this week).
The world’s a little
paler
beneath the winter sky,
and hope is somehow staler
when heroes have to die.
We followed your bright
shining light,
courage like the hardest
stone,
but now God has called
the fight
and gently brought you
home.
I’m glad your battle’s
finished,
and that Heaven is your
gift,
but my heart, it feels diminished
and I find myself adrift
upon a sea without a
shore
where your tall sails are seen no more.
A musical tribute from the Dropkick Murphys, with Forever. If the video doesn't come up, please click here.)
"Your strength is the power that carried me through...forever."
I do try to answer each comment in a timely fashion, but with Internet providers really stretched, I have only about half of the access I once did. Please bear with me!
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.
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.
I want you to remember me as something like Tony Stark, at the finale of Avengers: Endgame
That would not, however, be the truth, and as things continue downhill (new and bigger tumours, making it hard to breathe, among other things...and as for the other things, don't ask), I find my mind going places that are weak and maudlin...
I think, but for the
love of Mike,
don’t think on it too
long,
what my world might be
like
when I am dead and gone.
Will the dogs prick up
their ears,
run barking to the door
when they dream that
they hear
a voice that comes no
more?
Will Barb, on waking, smell
the bread
that I once used to
bake,
and remembering that I
am dead
wish there was some
mistake
and though she’s not the
sort to cry,
put head in hands, and
ask God Why?
I would guess that everyone who's watching death approach thinks this...what will thing be like without me? Will there be an echo of my presence where I once walked?
The answer is, well, of course. As John Donne wrote, Ask not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
Every death's a loss; every death changes things.
So it's a natural path for the mind to follow. It's also (to my mind) the wrong path, because it bespeaks a lack of trust in God, and something of a repudiation of Paul in Phil. 3:13-14
13 - Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before,
14 - I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.
In looking forward, I can't look back, and I have to place everything that I will be leaving behind in God's hands. I can't allow the sentimentality, and, yes, the self-pity, to distract from the road ahead, for how I live the coming days is what will truly determine how I am remembered.
And after all, you can't plow a straight furrow while looking over your shoulder.
Look ahead. Don't look back. (And ahead is the Five Minute Friday prompt this week.)
I woul love to hear your thoughts. Am I wrong, here? Am I overlaying an asumption of perection on human nature, the nature that God loves?
Music from Jenn Johnson, with Goodness of God. (Click here if the video doesn't appear.)
I do try to answer each comment in a timely fashion, but with Internet providers really stretched, I have only about half of the access I once did. Please bear with me!
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.
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.
