Miracles and Setbacks

 You think that having experienced a healing miracle, you're golden.

But that's not, and can never be, the case. Even Lazarus had to die.

I survived a sustained fever of 107 with the pre-existing conditions of pancreatic cancer and non-Hodgkins lymphoma, and that is miracle enough in itself.

But I wondered...might the cancers have been burned out, too?

For a few days I felt so good, I thought maybe they had.

But now, some of the old symptoms are resurfacing. I'd say it's discouraging, but that seems a bit ungrateful for the miracle I received.

I did receive a miracle, and if its purpose was to return me, alive and in good spirits, to the dire straits of cancer, it's still a miracle, and good enough for me.

I managed to answer the comments from last week's post, and will try to do the same this week...and I was able to visit some of you. Not easy, but y'all are worth it, and I do get lonely.

I thought that past mirac'lous cure,

my trials would surely see their end,

and all that I must now endure

was a body on the mend,

but it does not work this way,

not here, not in mortality,

and malignancies of yesterday

may be yet bound up in me.

I know that Lazarus came forth,

but in the end, he had to die

as all must do who walk the earth,

eyes turned unto the arching sky

in faith of the Elysian plain

where no cancer dare remain.

having used the term 'dire straits' above, what can be more appropriate than to offer Dire Straits, with their iconic Walk Of Life? (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.

I Got My Life Back, And Now What?

 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.

The Land of Frogularity
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.

Only By God's Grace

I am alive, after several days with a fever of 107; dark side of living, bright side of dying.

It is solely and completely God's Grace.

Recovery will be slow (but has begun); I won't be able to read or reply to comments but Barb will read them to me.

Meanwhile, I'm just so glad to be alive.

Some Evil Days

 This should not have been written, because yesterday, I should have been dead.

Been very sick; high and consistent fever since Saturday, trying to breathe around a solid 'block' in my chest...and yesterday Barb thought the jig was up, with a temperature of 104.5 and breath that really had to be pushed.

And then the fever broke, and breathing became more normal.

Not out of the woods but I'm here.

I won't get to many of your Five Minute Friday posts...if any...and certainly with no sonnets. I'm too tired.

But I hope you'll like this Ode to Barb, the last one I wrote before I was overwhelmed.

She stands there in her do-rag
and her mirrored shades;
some peers are now becoming hags,
but that's not how Barb's made.
She's got a small chain steering wheel
in her sport utility,
and speakers that will let you feel
hip-hop in her vicinity.
She's put in top hydraulic gear,
the best she could afford;
Christ on dashboard makes it clear
she's low-ridin' for the Lord,
and when bright Heaven's days arrive
she'll school the cholos how to drive.

Here's WAR, with Low Rider (please click here if the video doesn't load on your device).