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Love and marriage are the greatest adventures in life, and they point they way to our relationship with the Almighty.

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Thursday, February 23, 2023

The Best Choice

And so it goes, mainly downhill. Well, physically.

Days get pretty limited by a lot of trouble breathing when I try to move, and a lot of coughing thereby, which leads to a lot of puking.

My cup runneth over, all right, but let's don't go there, and you're welcome.

And why am I so happy?

I love my days, and even love the long sleepless nights (do you know that wonderful feeling of sliding back under the covers after a cold 3am dog walk?).

I love the beer that cuts the nausea so I can have at least a small meal. The way my body processes alcohol now, I don't even get mildly drunk, darn it, but BEER is my One Word for 2023.

I love Barb and the dogs and the cat and you, the people who drop by to read this stuff, share the trip, and offer encouragement.

Love's a choice, I guess. The best choice of all.

When the push doth come to shove,
I really love my wife,
so I'm buying her a copy of
The Porpoise-Driven Life.
With this I will go real big,
and think it would be cool
to alter the backyard and dig
a deep wide swimming pool
in with the big fish could enjoy
water-walking on his tail
(he, assuming he's a boy)
and round the pool would be a rail
to allow anointing, porpoise-fashion
with a whole great lot of splashin'.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is ASSUME. I assume I can do this.

People will not give me room,
and I'm often pressed,
because they feel free to assume
that I am real depressed.
"Talk it out, " they like to say,
"tell me how you're feeling down."
When I say that I'm OK,
they shake their heads and frown,
thinking I am in denial,
delusional, or am on drugs.
Then they really hit their style,
and offer smoochy teary hugs
while I try to make it clear
that I really want a beer.

Four minutes fifteen of veracity. I really am OK, but a case of Fosters ale sure wouldn't go amiss.

Music from Thirty Seconds To Mars, with Do Or Die.

Sylvia says, "Ice cream. Don't forget to say you love ice cream. Comes before the cat."

Thursday, February 16, 2023

Good Morning!

 In the dark before the dawn
as the world rests from its sins,
something turns the switches on
and The Car Alarm begins.
It starts out with a high-pitched "Yeeee!";
Cocoa's always on it first.
Then Latte joins in, in high G,
enough to make God's eardrums burst.
They rush to wake up all the crew;
Henry rumbles, low and deep,
"Don't know what YOU want to do,
but as for me, I'd rather sleep."
And then yawning, shakes his head,
and joins the whirling dance instead.

Did you know that the human eye can detect a candle flame from 1.6 miles away on a clear, dark night?

Coping with cancer is like this now...in a week that's been worse than ever, regarding just flat-out pain and fatigue, I lean into the small bright things.

Like Chihuahuas before the dawn.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is MANY.

Two Chihuahuas in the place 
running through the open door
barking a glad hymn of grace
leave me wanting much more.
Chi's are like potato chips,
you can't have just one or two,
and notwithstanding little nips,
there are more waiting for you
that will very soon arrive
to take places in the pack.
The big dogs have now learned to thrive,
and there is no looking back
to the cooler days long prior
to when they brought Chihuahua Fire.

Just under four minutes.

Music from Vanity Fare, with Early In The Morning.

Sylvia would rather sleep in, and dream of ice cream.

Thursday, February 9, 2023

It's OK To Be Scared


"Faith and fear can't coexist." - Jesus sweated blood, and still accepted God's will.

"No true Christian fears death." - see the 'sweating blood' thing above...if He was just perturbed about the process and could see to the other side, I kind of don't think Jesus would have been that bummed out.

"Fear ends where faith begins." - not really; fear is the storm-tossed sea, and faith is the life preserver. The storm's not gone; it can be survived.

I do not see how one could face cancer without faith informed by fear, and without fear mitigated...not subdued or eliminated...by faith.

Fear makes me reach out to God.

For me, the need for a constant conversation with God is simply not negotiable. ("Hang on, it's Andrew. Again. (Big sigh)"

The prognosis seems real grim,
and death may take a painful while,
but if you lift your eyes to Him,
there's still sufficient time to smile.
Maybe, yeah, your upraised eyes
are filled with stinging tears,
and then He says, to your surprise,
"Banish not your fears,
for they are now the very things
that brought Me to your side.
They shine as dew on golden wings,
and there's no need to hide
from the terrifying harms,
for you are safe here in My arms."

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is ACCESS. Hmmm.

If you won't access your fears,
then your courage is a fraud,
the kind bucked up by lots of beers,
and so very far from God.
You have to face and understand
the terror that chokes out your soul,
for only then can trembling hand
be taken, you by Grace made whole.
Look quite carefully at this,
don't think that fear must never be,
for if you do then you will miss
the lesson of Gethsemane,
by which the Christ, though filled with dread,
chose not to flee, obeyed instead.

Four minutes and a bit.

Music from For King And Country, with Shoulders.

Sylvia likes the song. She's got big shoulders.

 In the absence of music (Blogger won't let me link a video on my phone), here are a couple of things pictures of Sylvia, my blog's public face, on an ice-cream run.

Thursday, February 2, 2023

To The Child I Had No Chance To Meet


This is for everyone who has a child they never met, waiting for them in Heaven.

The precious baby of my heart,
whose earthly life I could not see,
is waiting, yes, to be a part
of the wonder that’s to be.
I think he will be tall and strong,
so gentle, and so fair of face,
and I do hope it won’t be long
until our meeting, full of grace
when he tells me of the time
that while I wept, he played with God,
hopscotch and jump rope divine,
on that playground bright and broad
on which his new-found body thrived
to see the day that I arrived.

The sonnet above was written this morning as a comment for Bob Hostetler's post on the Steve Laube Agency blog,  "6 Joys Of Finishing A Writing Project"

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is IGNORE.

Today, ignore the sorrow,
today, ignore the lack,
but know that by tomorrow
they will be coming back.
Drink ye hearty, to forget
'till hands are all a-tremor,
but you'll find that even yet
you will still remember
the ghost within that has no face,
that did not come to be,
and yet will demand a place
a-seat upon your knee,
for only thus are wiped away
the tears for he who had no day

Three minutes thirty.

Music from MercyMe, with Homesick.

When we found Sylvia, she had a dead puppy in her womb. She grieved, too.