Scars of Gold

 Do you know about kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pots with gold? The underlying philosophy is that scars are history, to be honoured.

I've been thinking about this lately, and about how Jesus appeared to the apostles after His resurrection...scars and all.

Are our scars somehow transfigured in gold...and is this how we will recognize one another in heaven?

Is it just possible that as Christ was wounded for us, our wounds are our offering to Him, when we let Him highlight them in pride? (Possible is the Five Minute Friday prompt this week.)

The pot is cracked and badly broke;

no wonder, it's so old,

but then the quiet craftsman spoke:

“I'll fix the thing with gold,

and though it will not look as new,

that can't be my repair,

but when I'm done I think that you

may yet find beauty there,

in scars whose trace is now a-shine

in sun's reflected light;

no need to thank, the honour's mine,

and so is the delight

in taking what is thrown away

to see, with love, another day.”

Instead of a music video, here's the Resurrection scene from The Passion of the Christ. (Click here if your device doesn't load the video.)

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 Need Your Advice

 First and foremost, I apologise to those whose comments I have not yet answered from last week. I had rather a bad fall (ironic that last week's post was called Fragility), collected a small refrigerator on the way down, and did myself some damage.

But, onward.

Barb brought up an interesting point last week, that some people get lost in the process pf dying...that is to say that they fall between the cracks of Christian comfort.

Their best days are not ahead, and they know it.

Heaven awaits, but they don't want to go.

Counting their trials as joy...well, uncontrolled vomiting and not being able to breathe...not joy.

And they are afraid.

If I have any kind of ministry at all, it's to such as these.

So I need your help, to give them the green spring hope of today, and of eternity. (And the Five Minute Friday prompt this week is green.)

What on earth does one say?

“You have a future and a hope”,

but Jeremiah gives no answer

to how on Earth I am to cope

with dreadful death from cancer.

“Just think yourself on Heaven's streets,

a white robe and a crown, oh, wow!”

That's great, but how am I meet

the burning hell that is called 'now'?

To count it joy seems like a thought

in which I really should believe,

but I can't do that which I ought

for it's become so hard to breathe.

I'm told in Christ there is no fear,

but I'm afraid, and I am here.

Music from the Electric Light Orchestra, with Mr. Blue Sky, as choreographed to Baby Groot dancing in the opening scene of Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2. (If your device doesn't bring up the video, please click here.)

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.

Fragility

 It took awhile for me to hate being fragile.

Every dog-walk is measured against how much breath I have, and every step is measured against tumours in my leg-bones...will they break, if I step too hard?

And I used to be something of an athlete.

But that's pride talking, pride in what I once was...and now, what I am, the glory is to accept, to live with the restrictions...and to come up smiling, joking, playing the fool.

And somehow, that acceptance enables me to be more than I was...and this week's Five Minute Friday prompt is enable.

My world has gotten fragile now,

with bones that ache and breath so short,

and I can scarce remember how

I had once excelled at sport,

but perhaps this is a game

as well, upon a killing field,

and I will earn a greater fame

in my choice of not to yield,

but accept the daily weakness

with good heart and cheery will,

and make of this a kind of meekness

that my Saviour may instill

and make my soul a mirror clear

reflecting that there's nowt to fear.

Music from Val Doonican, with Paddy McGinty's Goat. Really? Yes, and click here if the video doesn't come up.

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 Wish You Love

 I'm so damned tired, and my heart is so full of love.

Cancer is winning; I can't deny that. But on the other hand, I have won, because I have been able to defeat resentment and anger.

I haven't defeated fear; I'm terrified. But that's to be expected, and that's OK. Father, why hast Thou forsaken Me? I'm in good company.

But in that dreadful question, its own answer is formed. I may feel forsaken...

...but I will not forsake Love.

And if death is the last enemy, love is the ultimate victory.

For all of you. my kind and faithful readers, I wish only the best. I know that these are hard times, and that anger flows from so many sources...but I hope that you can keep your feet, and that you can know the love of Christ, the love of Paul, the love of Maximilian Kolbe.

I love you all.

I wish for you a gentle world,

that you see peace on Earth,

with the flags of hatred furled

and storm-clouds by sun dispersed.

I wish for you a hopeful dawn

borne out in truth for every day,

and that you hear the robin's song

as you travel on your way

down the miles and through the years,

over hill and dale,

and you have no cause for tears

save those that entail

from the Love the Empty Tomb

could not contain, for lack of room.

Music from Steve Winwood, with Back In The High Life Again.

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.

Up, Up And Away

And so the metastases are in both legs, and my walk is now a shuffle...sideways, when I can, because it hurts less that way.

Not walking is not an option; we have a lot of dogs, and Barb works for a living. But, thank God (or, for the dyslexic, thank Dog), the guys seem to understand, and adapt their desire to run to my capabilities.

Nights are a rotisserie...lay on one side until the pain's beyond endurance, turn ninety degrees until I can't breathe, turn again to face the pain...you get it. Or, rather, I hope you don't get it. No-one should feel this, or see it.

The other night, particularly bad, and I felt for a moment or ten that I was falling...like the feeling you get when you're dozing off...

Except that I was falling up, and consciousness was becoming more, and not less, clear.

Is this what death is like? Have you heard, have you felt it, have you been told?

There was nothing of 'meeting Jesus in the air'; it wasn't a rapturous experience, but it wasn't a bad one either.

There was a sense of expectancy, but to be more specific than that would not be honest, so I'll leave it there.

Is death like falling upward,

piercing through the clouds above,

more like rocket than like bird,

rising on a flame of love?

Is death a leap that o'ertops

‘till one hits Heaven’s Gates,

the hang-time jump that never stops

and jumper graduates

from this earth, this mortal coil

unto transcendent plane

where’s ended fruitless strife and toil,

and all that doth remain

are the blessings we were given,

oft unseen while we were livin’?

Music from The Fifth Dimension, with Up, Up and Away (My Beautiful Balloon).

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.