Replaceable Me

Things are really bad, and I usually now get Barb out of bed every night, when I'm screaming in pain, but nonetheless, I do try to keep fit.

To the point where today, Barb had a stubborn juice-bottle that she asked me to open.

She asked, kind of rhetorically, "What will I do when you're gone?"

My response was, "Get a good pair of channel-lock pliers, some duct tape, and some JB Weld. That'll do it."

We can delve deep into this conversational exchange, but what's the point?

The juice-top lid was staying on,

and you had to ask for aid;

“When you're gone, what will I do?”

That, my dear, is what you said.

I understand the deep emotion

that doth lie behind this plaint;

not disrespecting your devotion,

don't make me what I ain't.

Get some channel-locking pliers,

duct-tape, and some JB Weld,

and you'll find that hell's own fires

can, with these, be distant-held.

I love you, dear but am a tool

that is, at end, replaceable.

Apologies to those who left comments that went unanswered. With the spring winds come long interruptions in internet service, and I've been really, really sick. Internet works in the wee hours, but I just can't anymore.

Music from Brad Paisley, with I'm Gonna Miss Her. 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.

No Excuses

There's no excuse for things I've done

that you may (or not) have seen,

and there's no-where I might run

to flee the man that I have been,

who  favoured cruelty and dim sloth

over faith and diligence,

who counted industry as loss,

and sits now in the deep silence

of a place so far from God

and far from lost and absent friends,

waiting only for the rod,

for that is how this journey ends...

but Lo! He comes to sit with me,

His nail-pierced hand rests on my knee.

Yep, five minutes, for Five Minute Friday, keyword excuse.

Music is Amazing Grace. Please click here if your device doesn't bring up the video.

Centre Of The Storm

 

When forced to drink defeat's hard cup,

and there seems nowt more to do,

then go ahead, put both feet up,

and pop a can of brew,

(or whole six-pack, beer don't bite!),

and ponder ye this riddle

that oft comes to me in the night:

What use might be this middle

ground we live, 'twixt Heaven, hell,

what purpose can there be?

Why won't God ring the final bell

for failure's victory?

Or does He need to see our best

in the centre of the mess?

Music from R.E.M, with It's The End Of The World As We Know It choreographed to the engagingly goofy gamer anime, Final Fantasy.

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.

Were It Not So, I Would Not Have Told You

 I hope Jesus is OK with my using His words.

It happened again, on the morning of Monday, May 3. I died, went to Heaven, and returned (the first trip was March 14). Breathing is a real problem now, and I guess my lungs just got overwhelmed.

This time, I did not want to come back here; I was in tears at being made to return.

I haven't been well enough to write a full narrative yet, but no worries about it being forgotten in any detail. Won't happen.

It was experientially consistent with the first visit in terms of sensory fidelity and an unambiguous and logical sequence of events, though the setting was different.

It was a party, put on by Barb, in my honour, with food and entertainment and people I am meant to know. One of our current dogs, Strawberry, was there. She's a petite Bullmastiff, and in Heaven she is not petite but huge, with a window-rattling bark. And a scarlet-and-gold harness!

We all arrive at the same time. Paul said that, I think, the "we who are alive and remain" thing. That's what Barb says, anyway.

This was not a place of 'happiness', for that word denotes the existence of its opposite, and that's not the case in Heaven. The opposite isn't just gone...it never was.

In Heaven, Happy is the noun that defines the whole.

On coming back to this life, I was devastated, but was shortly given information. By God? Perhaps. By an angel, as Barb suggested? Maybe.

It didn't come in words, exactly, but it did come in words. Try to make sense of that. I can't.

There will be another trip. I was at first told that I would not return from the third time, but the 'Voice' then amended Himself to say that I would come back to tell the story.

The three trips are analogues of the Triune God; the first is something of sweeping vistas and majesty, and is a voyage of discovery ("Oh, of course...that's the way it's supposed to be.")

The first trip is being taken up into God the Father, as a wick is taken up into a candle-flame. Only the wick is not consumed, and the flame does not burn.

The second trip, described above, is being taken up into the New Life in Christ. It is an out-and-out celebration. 

The third trip will be...wait for it...taken up into the Holy Ghost. I have no idea what it will be like, but look forward to finding out.

I am writing as factually and clinically as I can, without interpretation, because I truly want you, the reader, to take comfort and joy from these experiences. I suspect it may be why I still live; Barb thinks so.

So why have I been selected for this, and charged with the task of writing about it?

Darned if I know. I'm deeply honoured, don't get me wrong, but probably any of you, reading this, could do the job better.

But it's in my lap, and I will do my best. I won't write anything that didn't happen, and won't leave out anything that did.

But it's hard, because I can only describe what I experienced. I saw no New Jerusalem, no streets of gold, no angelic choirs.

I saw no Throne Room.

I did meet Jesus on the first trip, but the encounter was so laid-back that I did not realize until later whom I'd met.

I wasn't taken up into the air, and no-one wore robes or crowns. The clothes were 'nice' comfortable wear, and I saw no headgear of any kind.

What I'm trying to say...and why I have still held back from posting the narrative of the first trip...is that I don't want to undermine anyone else's picture of what Heaven will be like.

I only saw what I saw. The other stuff may be there; I simply do not have that information.

But I do have what I saw, burned indelibly into my heart.

Were it not so, I would not have told you.

 I died on Monday morning,

sent Heavenward, returned.

I saw new life a-borning,

but have I truly earned

the right to tell of glories

through which I have now passed?

Can I relate the glowing stories

of the effervescent joy that lasts,

or should my words be now constrained

unto an earthly plane,

speaking as though I have remained

with those whose vision stays the same

to see the bright eternal age

through well-loved words on holy page?

Music from Kool And The Gang, with Celebration. (Please click here if the video doesn't come up 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.