Every dog-walk is measured against how much breath I have, and every step is measured against tumours in my leg-bones...will they break, if I step too hard?
And I used to be something of an athlete.
But that's pride talking, pride in what I once was...and now, what I am, the glory is to accept, to live with the restrictions...and to come up smiling, joking, playing the fool.
And somehow, that acceptance enables me to be more than I was...and this week's Five Minute Friday prompt is enable.
My world has gotten
fragile now,
with bones that ache
and breath so short,
and I can scarce
remember how
I had once excelled at
sport,
but perhaps this is a
game
as well, upon a killing
field,
and I will earn a
greater fame
in my choice of not to
yield,
but accept the daily
weakness
with good heart and
cheery will,
and make of this a kind
of meekness
that my Saviour may
instill
and make my soul a
mirror clear
reflecting that there's
nowt to fear.
Music from Val Doonican, with Paddy McGinty's Goat. Really? Yes, and click here if the video doesn't come up.
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'm so damned tired, and my heart is so full of love.
Cancer is winning; I can't deny that. But on the other hand, I have won, because I have been able to defeat resentment and anger.
I haven't defeated fear; I'm terrified. But that's to be expected, and that's OK. Father, why hast Thou forsaken Me? I'm in good company.
But in that dreadful question, its own answer is formed. I may feel forsaken...
...but I will not forsake Love.
And if death is the last enemy, love is the ultimate victory.
For all of you. my kind and faithful readers, I wish only the best. I know that these are hard times, and that anger flows from so many sources...but I hope that you can keep your feet, and that you can know the love of Christ, the love of Paul, the love of Maximilian Kolbe.
I love you all.
I
wish for you a gentle world,
that
you see peace on Earth,
with
the flags of hatred furled
and
storm-clouds by sun dispersed.
I
wish for you a hopeful dawn
borne
out in truth for every day,
and
that you hear the robin's song
as
you travel on your way
down
the miles and through the years,
over
hill and dale,
and
you have no cause for tears
save
those that entail
from
the Love the Empty Tomb
could
not contain, for lack of room.
Music from Steve Winwood, with Back In The High Life Again.
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.
And so the metastases are in both legs, and my walk is now a shuffle...sideways, when I can, because it hurts less that way.
Not walking is not an option; we have a lot of dogs, and Barb works for a living. But, thank God (or, for the dyslexic, thank Dog), the guys seem to understand, and adapt their desire to run to my capabilities.
Nights are a rotisserie...lay on one side until the pain's beyond endurance, turn ninety degrees until I can't breathe, turn again to face the pain...you get it. Or, rather, I hope you don't get it. No-one should feel this, or see it.
The other night, particularly bad, and I felt for a moment or ten that I was falling...like the feeling you get when you're dozing off...
Except that I was falling up, and consciousness was becoming more, and not less, clear.
Is this what death is like? Have you heard, have you felt it, have you been told?
There was nothing of 'meeting Jesus in the air'; it wasn't a rapturous experience, but it wasn't a bad one either.
There was a sense of expectancy, but to be more specific than that would not be honest, so I'll leave it there.
Is death like falling
upward,
piercing through the
clouds above,
more like rocket than
like bird,
rising on a flame of
love?
Is death a leap that o'ertops
‘till one hits Heaven’s
Gates,
the hang-time jump that
never stops
and jumper graduates
from this earth, this
mortal coil
unto transcendent plane
where’s ended fruitless
strife and toil,
and all that doth remain
are the blessings we
were given,
oft unseen while we were
livin’?
Music from The Fifth Dimension, with Up, Up and Away (My Beautiful Balloon).
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.
First, I need to apologise to those whose blogs I have not visited in the last week or two. I've been doing my best, but am just too ill. I'm sorry.
The cancer's in my bones now, and last night was spent, well, screaming. Seems that during the day the body produces cortisol to numb the pain, but at night, you get the full show.
And it was horrible. A fold of blanket under my left femur, and it felt like the thing was going to break.
And the fear. What will itbe like tomorrow?
The Bible says fear not three hundred and sixty-five times. One for each day of the year.
And I'm still frightened out of my socks. What will happen tomorrow? Makes me feel like a second-rate Christian. Be not afraid? Sorry, nope, can't do that.
Turns out, I'm not alone. Jesus was scared too, and He had to be, otherwise the whole death-and-resurrection thing woul have been an act.
Sometimes I feel abandoned by God. So did He.
And at the ninth hour, Jesus cried out with a loud voice, "Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani?" which means, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Mark 15:34
Sometimes I just have to trust. So did He.
"And when Jesus had cried out with a loud voice, he said, Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit": Luke 23:46
They say that faith will
banish fear,
that trust will win the
day,
but in these days grown
harsh and sere
it doesn’t work that
way.
The pain is now within
my bones,
and terror rules the
night
in which the quailing
heart atones
for all ‘twas not done
right,
and Christ is in the
midst of this,
He sits and notes my dread,
not saying that I should
dismiss
my fright, but shares it
all, instead,
saying, “Dude, this is
not new to Me;
I felt it at Gethsemane.”
Music from Tangerine Dream, with the theme from the movie Sorcerer, which was based on the earlier film The Wages of Fear, about a group of men hire to drive nitroglycerin-laden trucks across a South American mountain range. The video's tense, and stunning, and features the great (and, sadly, late) actor Roy Scheider (yep, he from Jaws). (Please click hereif the video doesn't load on your evice.)
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.