Thanksgiving sunrise (above) and sunset (below).
And the Manzano range after a front came through.
I never really thought to give thanks for lack, but there you go.
Aviation has been a part of my soul for as long as I can remember, but lack of funds always held me back from the participation for which I longed.
Now I understand why.
I didn't have the maturity to cherish the gift. I took stupid chances, once almost killed myself (I did manage to cut my throat), and, not having learned, continued to showboat.
Lack let me live.
Similar thing, with cancer. Insurance went away long ago, and instead of hanging my hopes on others' 'healing prowess', I was on my own.
I had to work with God to reinvent every day, to find motivation to...well, not thrive, that's out of reach...no, it's motivation not to quit. For one more day.
There's no anxious waiting for test results, no waiting rooms freighted with the scents of antiseptic and doom.
There's just the here and now.
Mind, by the time the insurance ran out the doctors had given up, and were only offering palliative care. So there wasn't a whole lot to lose.
But in my lack, I won.
I cannot afford insurance,
had to care for self instead,
and have thus found, with some assurance,
that had I wealth, I would be dead.
I had to fight each living day,
I had to learn my enemy,
but if perchance I might just pay
someone to do this work for me
I would have ended drugged and slack,
petitioner to human grace;
persist in this, you can’t go back
to that harder, better place
where alone you pit your will
against that thing which aims to kill.
This sonnet first appeared as a comment on Steve Laube's blog post Money Problems.
The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is LIKE. I like it.
Ok, dude, so well it's like
not too good and not too gnarly;
don't remember where I parked my bike,
and the worst thing, it's a Harley,
really too big to misplace
so on will come my thinking hat,
and thus I hope by God's bright grace
I will recall just where it's at.
Could it be out on the street?
Nope, it could be, but's not there.
Did I ride it out to greet
the arrival of the dogs' au pair?
Oh, I worried much too soon,
it's parked here in the living room!
Doesn't everyone keep Hogs inside?
Three and a half minutes. Doesn't show, eh?
Here's The Holly And The Ivy by Mediaeval Baebes. Yes, really.
Sylvia says, as long as I don't lack ice cream, no-one gets hurt.
We both had to learn to accept lack as a more faithful road to Trusting God's provision if need because in eternity our want only relies on the Want of God Alone.ReplyDelete
Dear Heart, I am so blessed that you came along on this journey.Delete
Andrew, you may think you are on your own and having to take care of yourself but in reading your post, I realized this >>>> God has been taking care of you a whole lot longer than you think. Friend, you have the best Physician and the care you are receiving is top notch. And you continue to remind me of this with every word you share. So grateful God crossed our paths in this vast world we live in! Blessings!ReplyDelete
Joanne, you're right. God is in the midst of this.Delete
I am blessed to have met you, and I know that one day we will toss a Frisbee on Heaven's Joisy Shore.
profound, Andrew. a needed reminder for us to look into lack to see what awaits us there.ReplyDelete
i hope today is a good one for you.
Linda, thank you... internal bleeding is bad, but God's here.Delete
I love the twist in the poem at the end. I misplace things fairly often myself, and try to make it a game with my kids, "Who can help me find the ________(fill in the blank.)." I am praying that you and Barb feel God's presence in tangible ways this week. Praying for you both -JoleneReplyDelete
Jolene, it's been a rough week, but a good one.Delete
Finding things...lost a set of car keys once, found them in a patch of grass, and was then rear-ended by an SUV going 50 MPH in a chain-reaction collision.
But I was there to render aid to the other drivers involved.
Andrew, your words hold such amazing insight and truth. Our situations are different, yet the same. Motivation to not thrive but to not quit....yes. To trust God and reinvent every day, yes. That is faith. To look in the face of lack and say "What famine? God owns it all...is He not willing to share with those who ask?" And I know someone who keeps their motorcycle in the living room. A bicycle would not fit in mine.ReplyDelete
Mary, thank you so much for this, and I love the thought, "What famine?"Delete
hey, I have a friend who does! His hog has often been in his living room. Just makes me shake my head at him. FMF16ReplyDelete
It's where a treasured Hog belongs, Annette!Delete
"Lack let me live." Simple. Profound. Lack is your reality. It is also your choice. You could quit, but you don't. You have shown the strength that's in mind over matter. You made me think with this post. It made me remember something. I've written about a thing I call 'gain.' Your lack is your gain, what you gained from the experience. Life is full of interesting concepts. Have a good one, Andrew.ReplyDelete
My dear Norma, I am so glad this reached out to you, and am honoured by your affirmation.Delete
It's been a dreadful week, but I do have a good 'un, every day. By choice.
Your insight in interesting and deep, Andrew. Thank you for sharing. Keep on keeping on---and writing posts. BTW---I did know a guy that kept his bike in living room too. :)ReplyDelete
Mitzy, thank you so much for this. There's not much riding in my future now, but I will keep writing.Delete
Andrew, I so appreciate your thoughts on your insurance issues. Your still being alive is a reflection of God's plans being carried out over man's. It's quite possible, had you followed the normal insurance track, you would no longer be here (I, for one, am selfishly glad you are still here), and we would have missed your insights and humor. I so appreciate your sonnets, especially the first. Though, I don't know anyone who keeps their hog inside their home, in my neighborhood I have seen cars parked literally outside the front door.ReplyDelete
I'm continuing to pray for you and Barb, my friend.
P.S. I loved the photos!
Jeanne, I'm pretty glad to still be here, too. This last week has seemed the worst, but as Shakespeare said, if you can SAY it's the worst, the worst is not yet.ReplyDelete
Barb keeps her truck just outside her bedroom window. Folks around here drill into gas tanks to steal petrol.
I'm so glad you like the photos! I have fun taking them.
I'm glad you found your hog! Ha! I enjoyed your photos too! Perspective is such an interesting thing to have, isn't it? Something that seems negative, can become a positive, when we see with grateful eyes of the heart.ReplyDelete