Dancing On The Edge Of Forever

This was originally intended to be quite a different post (pertaining to the lovely evening picture above, which Barb took from our front door), but coming back from near death earlier today... well, that may be worth a few words.

It was a hard experience. I realized, very suddenly, that I was about to go down very hard, and, vision fading, managed to lunge across my bed.

There followed a period of passing in and out of awareness, and I can liken it to drowning (I was once trapped beneath seaweed when diving).

I became too weak to fight, and handed the situation over to God...and gradually my breath came back, and I could, later, see again.

Barb came home from lunch shortly thereafter, and was horrified to find me ice-cold, with pale, and with very poor veinous return at the fingernails.

Now, several hours later, I'm as shaky as a shopping cart with a bad wheel.

And what does it mean? What's the lesson from this terrifying morning?

God is.

No matter how proud, nay, arrogant we are in our own strength (I have cornered the market, here), there's a limit.

And there God stands, shaking His head, perhaps rolling His eyes, sleeves pulled up, ready to work.

Perhaps to put you back, perhaps to take you home.

Or something in between.

He holds all the cards.

I paid out in arrogance

far more than I could fain afford,

and, as if in recompense

I was forced unto the Lord,

unwillingly into His arms,

where He smiling bade me hide,

safe from earthly harms,

but not from that which lurked inside.

'Twas pride that led me to resist

in my heart, with pious face,

and it's hard, with tight-closed fist

to receive the gentle grace

that the Lord so wants to give

through every moment that we live.

Music from Soundgarden, with Live To Rise.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is VIEW. Let's take a look.

Come and visit us, right here,

yes, we do mean you!

My friend, we hold your friendship dear,

so let's enjoy the view.

A mountain range lies to the east

across the desert plain,

and its best matches its least

when peaks are clothed in rain.

Un-named mesas in the west

will shine red in the morning light,

and receive the sun in rest

at the fall of night.

But beauty goes on, have no doubt;

just wait 'till all the stars come out!

Four minutes. Good enough.

Sylvia learned long ago that trading pride for ice cream is a good exchange,

and that ice cream presents a lovely view.

 

What 'Terminal' Feels Like

One of the most frequently asked questions about terminal cancer is... what does it FEEL like, knowing that you're under a death sentence, date of execution unknown?

It was hard to answer until I had an epiphany while watching Pirates Of The Caribbean. No, the revelation did not involve rum. Unfortunately.

What It's Like is walking the plank, blindfolded. You can't stop, let alone go back, and you don't know if the very next step might be a really long one.

It's incumbent on a Christian to say, I'm falling into the arms of Jesus!, and while this is my secure belief, the truth is that we have to go through a one-way door to get there. We can believe what's behind the door, but we can't SEE it, and that's scary.

Normally, when at least reasonably healthy, we put it off, channeling Scarlett O'Hara... I'll think about that tomorrow.

But for me, and for many, many others, it's tomorrow.

(For the record, another common question is How Have You Lasted This Long...I don't know, but Olivia Newton John fought cancer for thirty years. Quite an inspiration.)

Each footfall's further in the dark,

over the vast abyss,

dominion of the hungry shark

(am I on his to-do list?).

I don't know where the plank will end,

and though I tread with care,

there's courage I just can't pretend

for when I step, and nothing's there,

and so I lift my shrouded eyes

unto the Lord who reigns above,

somewhere beyond the darkling skies,

that He might look down with love

that when that final step is taken,

I land in His palm, unforsaken.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is FORGET. Had something in mind, but I already forgot. My brain's like a shelf without a rear wall; put something on the front, something falls off the back.

Well, here goes.

It's easy to forget 'bout God

when things are going well,

but we remember (oh, how odd!)

when life goes straight to hell,

and we cry out, "Catch me, Lord!"

with all our strength and might

when we think we're spinning toward

an endless Stygian night.

I wouldn't blame ol' God at all

if He laughed and turned away,

but He will not let us fall

on this or any day,

so He lends faith we can borrow

'till He's ignored again tomorrow.

Four minutes. Does it show?

I couldn't find a musical accompaniment the fit with walking the plank, but here's Tightrope Walk, by The Damned, set to stunning scenes from 'The Walk', a film about Phillipe Petit's high-wire walk between the towers of the World Trade Centre.

Sylvia knows she's in God's hand, and that hand holds ICE CREAM!

 

 
 

The Embrace Is The Test

I used to think of myself as a warrior, and of cancer as the enemy.

Didn't realize I could be that dumb.

No, cancer's not pleasant (and having a perpetually broken arm due to metastasis kinda sucks), but it's real, it's what's there...and it's not personal.

Fighting it as if it was a kind of single-combat knightly joust was helpful for awhile, but in the end it was draining.

Learning to embrace this experience, however much I might prefer it to be something else...it's the hardest thing I've ever done.

It's also the most rewarding, because I can, at last, clearly see and feel the blessings in which I have been daily bathed.

I did not see this truth at first,

but know now it's a test:

if you cannot embrace the worst,

you won't accept the best.

This life's a chiaroscuro game,

light and shade defines the rules,

and in our hearts we find the same,

saints and beggars, knaves and fools,

and thus we must take in the whole, drink it down without a flinch

to nourish an expanding soul,

ounce by ounce and inch by inch

until we come to gifted right

that Christ bought, eternal light.

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

Together we have got this far,

together we have chased the sun,

together we have wrecked a bar

or three, just while having fun.

Together we have danced in glee,

together we have wept in sorrow,

but now I fear that there will be

no 'together' on the morrow.

I think I will be leaving soon,

and know that I must document

the mundane done from noon to noon

with a clear precise intent

that taxes, mortgage, these and more

will have no fell surprise in store.

Four minutes of hard truth. Don't want to do THAT again.

Music from the Fab Four, with Let It Be.

Sylvia is delighted to embrace ice cream, especially McDonald's vanilla.

 

On The Acceptance Of Grace

Barb, bless her little cotton socks, is hard at work transforming parts of the yard...making safe footing for me, so I can walk the dogs.

Because the thing is my legs don't work properly now, and a misstep will send me into a flailing fall worthy of the Three Stooges.

I am thankful that I have been able to put resentment against cancer aside, to let pride be a discarded cloak by the wayside, and accept this offered grace with a full heart.

And now the gate is far away,

the ladder can't be climbed,

and I've lost much that yesterday

I truly thought was mine,

beholden unto me alone

in my long-flower'd youth,

but circumstance calls to atone

and face the cold hard truth

that spring (so treasured!) will not last,

and in this life not come again,

that I cannot live in the past,

and only forward, through the pain

can new meaning still be found

to keep my heart on solid ground.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is BE. Not hard.

I know you did not want to be,

my dear, what life's demanded,

and it truly hurts to see

that you have been remanded

to a life of wearing care,

to a tether firm and close;

I wish that you could breathe free air,

live the days you would have chose,

a biker trip 'cross mountain passes,

a visit to the Windward Isles,

toasts with friends, and upraised glasses,

bright evenings ending in bright smiles,

but, by, God, I'm glad you're here

as the scary dark draws near.

Three minutes. Truth runs fast.

Music from Dire Straits, with Walk Of Life .

Sylvia happily accepts the Grace of Ice Cream.

 

Attitude Of Gratitude

Past the sorrow of losing my service dog, Ladron, past the rapidly increasing infirmity of cancer (Barb needed to replace a ceiling fan, and I can no longer climb a ladder to help...but I COULD read her the directions), one still needs to cultivate the Attitude of Gratitude.

So, this is for Barb, with love.

She walks like a happy camel,

has the style of Superfly;

hair is cut like skater, Hamill,

soft brown eyes for which to die.

She can raise your spirit higher,

just like falling off a log,

when she sings in the church choir,

sounding like Kermit the Frog.

As caregiver she's a collie

faced with some unruly sheep,

but remaining ever jolly

'fore dawn when she'd prefer to sleep,

and as accountant (more than grace and looks),

she can really cook the ledger books!

Now don't you wish YOU had married a poet?

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is CHANCE.

Another one for Barb.

If you had another chance,

a second try at What To Do,

would you change things to enhance

the life of years that you'd walk through?

For my part I am truly blessed,

but as a spouse I think I've failed,

lost the paper for the test,

and I'm just glad you haven't bailed.

Every court must have a jester,

and daily, here, I am class clown,

but in despair, regrets do fester,

and cancer's got me feeling down,

but then your smile shines through our pain

to say you'd do it all again.

Five minutes, just barely.

Music from the OC Supertones, with "Superfly".

Sylvia wonders if she can eat ice cream while rolling her eyes.

The Goodbye

 Snow melts from the temple eaves,

and the first tears of spring

fall to the stones.

RIP Ladron, my PTSD service dog.

August 2008-July 12, 2022

She made my world sane.

The picture of the Kosho-Ji temple in Fukukusa comes from https://terebess.hu/zen/sojiji/koshoji.html

I hope that it's OK to use it here.

Music from Sir James Galway, with Nakasendo.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is PROPOSE.

I cannot propose an end to winter

beyond faith

that there is spring.

Yesterday's You

God made you, yeah?

Knew you before the womb?

OK, maybe you've gone off the rails. We all do, to some degree.

But when Jesus makes all things new, He's using what you were, and making that into what you can be.

Even in the times you were furthest from God, no part of you was a throwaway. 

No shame, for with Christ, disgrace is clothed in glory.

Look back on the emptiness

of all the years now dead and gone,

but that death's all a sham unless

you refuse to take along

the younger self that lived those days,

did best or worst with what he had,

who daily offered curse or praise

to our patient Heaven-Dad.

Why take him when he was a jerk,

a scoffer at the bright and good?

Well, it's true he needed work,

but really in your heart you should

know this to be well and true,

that part of him still lives in you.

Appropriately, the Five Minute Friday prompt this week is TWENTY.

I was twenty way back when,

convinced that I would never die

until that weirded moment when

I bet my life against the sky

and drove an aeroplane straight through

some 250 kV wires;

it seemed that 'twas the thing to do

in matching madness to desires,

and by God and His mercy hand

that He keeps prepared for fools,

I was able then to land,

and having broken many rules

was asked that I not soon return,

but, dude, I flew again next morn.

The only quote I can think of here is 'stupid is as stupid does', but I've had a blast.

Music from America, with Work To Do.

Sylvia shall meanwhile work on her ice cream.