Remember, Hold on for One More Day

My friend is dying. We have been the truest of friends over fifty years. My smart, (I am talking qualifies for Mensa smart), funny, and oh so beautiful friend. We do not speak of dying much. We have long since beaten that “dead horse” (pun intended) a while ago. The buckets of tears, prayers, questions, meeting new Doctors, holding it together for family members…yes, we do all of that together because we must.

My friend is not a person who wants or needs attention. In fact, she is always calling to check on me! She is navigating the cruelest road I can imagine, and I have seen my share of people dying due to my career. My Friend and I talk about how Death is hideous in any form. This does not mean my friend is always perfect or even doing okay because this disease is as cruel as any out there. There are days when she cannot speak or move. There are days she will not stop talking. There are days she cries all day long and other days where she is watching Netflix and stuffs her face with pizza…

We see each other as much as possible or speak on the phone. Every time we part, she says, “remember and Hold on for one more day.” Recently I asked her to explain , and she said, “do you ever enjoy something so much like Christmas morning, or going to your child’s first school play, or your wedding day (or divorce day), or even being with someone when they die but when that day or event is over you know you won’t feel that again for another year or maybe ever?” She looked at me with her spring-green eyes and said, “We, all of us, every single human, are Trusted by the God who made us with remembering those sparks that make life such a treasure. So, we string those bits and glimpses of human treasures together like rare pearls and wear them near our heart. We must remember what love is, remember the sensation of sun on our face, or salt water on our lips. Remember our lover’s breath in our ear and our baby’s smell, and all the while we know that the next day everything will not be like it was on THIS day! So, when I say Remember and hold on for one more day, I am just saying tomorrow could bring a moment of sweetness, ecstatic happiness, or smooth Joy or a sunset in colors never seen before. Tomorrow could gift us a happening, an event, a feeling, a treasure that we never had before…so I just keep remembering and hold on for one more day. When I die, I will be wearing those pearls.”

Again, the Kingdom of Heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it.” Matthew 13:45-46

But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him”— 2Corinthians 2:9

Sweet Eyes

I was looking for a man just like you

but that man was not a runner.

I was looking for a man just like you

but that man was not a Film Flam man.

Just like you but did not tell lies

Just like you but wanted ties

A man like you took my heart away

A man that pretended dreams were true

A man like you who fooled us all

Yes, my sweet eyes were looking for a man

But He was never you.

Finding Godly Courage

I sat by my window. It was a trial this summer with many days in distress and concern. I would love to tell you I handled it so spiritually but at times that is not the case. I cried. I prayed. I talked to the whole tribe of medical people but of course the most important thing is that I went to the Lord and God’s Word.

My heart was longing to have courage but I really wasn’t sure what Courage looks like. So, to the Bible I went. Then I went to prayer. I told God I don’t really know what courage means and asked him to help me some.

In the many weeks I was housebound I began to read about men and women in the Bible who took had Courage and as I read I realized that none of these people had courage of their own. They had Courage WITH them. Courage is not only a verb but it is also one of the very definitions of God himself. Courage much like grace, mercy, and love are not earned they are GIVEN and who is the giver of all thing? God of course, through Jesus!

People who have Godly Courage have it because the Holy One saw fit to send His Son to be born, live, die, and rise again, and then send His very on Spirit to live in us and give Holy gifts!. Courage is God’s gift to us as His children.

Oh, don’t get the idea that Courage is not especially beautiful. This gift might be torn and tattered. It might be beaten and bleeding. It might be weeping until dawn. Courage is the opposite of Fear. Fear is never a gift from God. He does not give fear. Fear tells you God is NOT with you. Fear says you are weak and frail and alone.

I sit by my window. I am gaining my strength as summer is drifting away with a thunder in the heavens.

I sit by my widow. God’s presence abides as faithful and as sweet as ever and I have found his gift of Courage.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights” (James 1:17).

the oil of Joy…

two clear glass bottles with liquids

Photo by Mareefe

she is comfortable with her smile. Her smile doesn’t mask the great pain that undoubtedly lay in her life; it embraces it…and in that embracing, the oil of Joy pours out like a healing balm…

for true Joy is not a feeling nor is it an emotion. True Joy is seeded in Truth. Truth about how the story began and how it will end…”every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is LORD.”

The Drum Keeps Pounding…

pexels-photo-247195.jpeg

Kill or be killed.

How can a baby tell?

How can the government know your heart?

How can the abuse drum on?

Politicians poison consistently flows.

The children all die inside and out!

Kill or be killed.

Who made you this way?

Beat the drum until all is in ruin.

Drums pounding our sanity away!

The world’s words…

black smoke coming from fire

Photo by Pixabay 

The World’s words cannot clothe themselves in peace.

All of this death has a life to each.

Millions of human lives taken cannot be a number.

A child is playing in her yard, daddy taken away by war.

Common sense is a safe boundary no more.

The road seems shorter than it was before.

Countries are convulsing insanity roars.

Letters tied in yellowed ribbon rotted to the core.

These words lack weight and I close the door.