It's the cry of everyone besieged by circumstance or illness..."I want my life back!"
And now, having survived a sustained fever of 107 with cancer as a pre-existing condition, something that should have killed me...I have my life back.
What should I do with it?
God has an answer, for now. (Yes, I talk with God these days. He's a good conversationalist.)
Anyway, here's God's suggestion as to what I should do with my life:
"Right now, nothing. This is your time to heal. You're a skeleton, and you have to let Me grow purpose on your bones. I am not in any rush, so enjoy this time, and I will enjoy it with you."
So that's what I'll do. I will continue to write blog posts, though answering comments is still beyond me (I can only sit up for a little while each day, still); Barb reads them to me, and I truly appreciate your friendship and love.
I'll try to at least visit your posts through the week, and say Hi. Please bear with me?
I wrote this sonnet for fun, just before I got sick. I hope you like it. I made up the term 'frogularity', and Barb thought it too good to lose.
where goats serve tiramisu,
and there's no need for charity,
for all know what to do
to care for fellow critters,
high-five or belly-rub,
then have five pints of bitters
quite nightly, in the pub.
We race our ancient roadsters
until the bonnet's hot,
then use the steel as toasters
and warm the cooking pot
upon the steaming engine-head
that we may have soup with our bread.