It's Been A Beautiful Life

 

Henri Matisse once visited Auguste Renoir, and saw how difficult it was for the old master to hold a brush, due to his rheumatoid arthritis.

"Why do you punish yourself so!" cried Matisse.

"The pain passes, my friend, but the beauty remains."

I don't count beauty in my words.

I count it in the many dogs and cats who found a home here, and none were ever turned away.

Sure, it's been hard, and exhausting, and sometimes heartbreaking.

And instead of a video, here's Anthony Hopkins with the most powerful prayer in the world.

Yeah, that.

That's the resume I am giving to God.

Amidst the wide world's loud bright chatter,

soft hurting eyes are turned to me,

and in the end it doesn't matter

what I thought that I might be

compared to hurt, compared to fear,

compared to hell lived on this Earth.

Yeah, okay, we'll share a beer,

and in this house you'll find rebirth

from the hard life you've been living

that you never could deserve.

From here on you will be given

every thing, and I will serve

your needs as my worn aching heart

tries each day to do its part.

OK. And yes, dogs and cats do enjoy beer.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is ESCAPE.

I once thought I'd outrace time,

and death would be left in far dust;

eternal summer would be mine,

and thus in mine own strength I'd trust,

and not deign to wait upon

a Lord I could not hear nor see,

but now those days are truly gone;

one can almost say the same for me!

But a funny thing did happen

en route to my bare funeral:

Jesus popped out, fingers snappin',

and said my joy could still be full,

'cause what's supposed to be a tomb

is God's eternal party room.

Three minutes flat. Did I get away with it?

Sylvia was found in a high-summer southwestern field, abandoned with a dead puppy in her womb, left to die.

She deserves all the ice cream she can eat.