On Not Getting Stuck

I saw a restaurant scene in a movie today, and had a fleeting sorrow that I can't do that anymore.

And this is very wrong...the thought, not the situation.

It's a slap against the face of God. He has brought blessings aplenty in spite of the cancer (hardest week yet), and to moan about what's lost to me is like a disappointed child pouting on Christmas morning, surrounded by piles of toys, because he didn't get a pony.

Christ didn't take on and pay my debt of sin for that. He wore my shameful squalid garments to save my soul.

Not so I could go to Outback again.

They say it must be galling

(and that I should admit it true)

that I get quite depressed recalling

the things I can no longer do,

and what I can no longer be,

no longer give, not longer get,

and live earthly eternity

in the dungeon of regret.

Yes, my days are sore constrained,

and some failures can't be remedied 

but with much lost much is retained,

and my Saviour didn't bleed

that I'd put His pain upon the shelf

to feel so sorry for myself.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is COPY.

Please don't try this stuff at home,

please don't try to copy me.

Do as Romans when in Rome,

but please, friend hear my simple plea

to not face cancer without aid,

no docs, nor 'cancer group' support.

It's the worst game to be played

when in pride you come up short

and face the things that might have been,

the chance to give, and take help given.

Remember hubris is a sin,

and not a way you should be livin',

but when the whole thing's said and done,

on my own, I did have fun.

Three minutes, and truth in the dichotomy.

Music from U2, with Stuck In A Moment

Sylvia doesn't regret, but she sure can pile on the guilt if ice cream isn't shared.