He’s going to make it

My beloved is following his dream

To fly, fly away, up into the sky.

Tis nightfall before the test of his study

Everything in him has turned accordingly.

I knew from my past what to do

The helpmate must get behind her man.

Extra chores, some sacrifices and then

You will share the joy of your man realized.

For settling one’s fears yields a greater good

Don’t worry dear wife, he will share this with you.

Your life will be even better than ever, it’s true

Fall in love with his loves as you do him too.

The rewards will come naturally and exceed your dreams

Your own desires will be satisfied along the way too.

God’s plan is so good. Trust in it this night.

My beloved is going to become a private pilot

“Gooooo Steeeeve!” I love you!

UPDATE: And after rescheduling due to overcast skies, Steve became a private pilot on Tuesday, August 20, 2019. Congratulations my love! We celebrated with his first flight that Friday with my beloved as Pilot-in-Command and yours truly. Story to follow . . .

It’s just me, It’s just You

It’s just me Lord

Laying my burden at your feet of glory.

Tempted to pick it up again

To etch out stains left on my life, on my story.

Alas Your Word doth profess

You have it already in your plan:

The end, the redemption

The entire beginning from the end.

For the race is so hard

I admit day after day

When the lows speak loudest

And overshadow the sunnier ways.

It’s not as bad

I do proclaim overall

At least I can rest

And in the quiet, hear Your call.

What a gift to behold

Your goodness in so many forms

Let it not shadow under

These deviations from the norm.

For You know the score

The rise and fall of my failings, my pain

Holding my tears

Allowing me to rise out of bed once and again.

It’s just me in humanity

My weakness, shame, failings, doubt

Oh could You just take

My thorn, soon and forever pull it out?

Seems so simple

Yet I cry and too easily give in to worry

Will have to be You my Lord

Leading us onward, yes for Your glory.

When you search no more

Google and Google Scholar have gotten way too much traffic from me these past 8 years of battling serious illness. It’s time to spend less time there and more time dwelling in the presence of my Lord, Jesus Christ.

And so I shall.

Facebook has been my link to the world outside the comforting yet speechless walls of our home when there were no more folks to call on the phone. A recent relapse in convulsive episodes brings a state of mental fog afterwards. While not a true “post ictal” phase of an epileptic seizure, it is still a time when goal-directed activity (as I used to call it when working in my profession of occupational therapy) simply does not occur. Reading short phrases while lying in a passive state is about the best I can do. Well, except when my beloved is nearby and comforts me dearly. But I follow way too many disease-oriented groups on Facebook so spending time there is not really a break from life, a connection to the living, or even as entertaining as it once was. It’s time to spend less time there and more time dwelling in the presence of my Lord, Jesus Christ.

And so I shall.

Endless planning in my mind or on the calendar on my smart phone has increasingly become a source of frustration rather than relief or even hope. Focusing too much on the future brings tomorrow along too soon, robbing me of the gifts all around me in today. I simply don’t know when-or-if I will be a candidate for parathyroid surgery now that I have a diagnosis that explains so very much of what is wrong with my health. I simply have to wait for others to review my case and call me. Steve and I will adjust our schedules and lives accordingly. It’s time to spend less time there and more time dwelling in the presence of my Lord, Jesus Christ.

And so I shall.

Gardening has become both a hobby and source of identity when my role as an Occupational Therapist went away. I am grateful that a couple of months of better health in the spring allowed me to largely finish a rain garden project in my community as a Master Gardener. My volunteer work continues as the Assistant Editor of the quarterly publication, Canoe News (of the United States Canoe Association), and Editor of the monthly newsletter, Across the Fence (of the Master Gardeners of Purdue Extension, Allen County). Often these are difficult to get done; somehow with the Lord’s grace we do. But I am struggling to keep up with our own landscape that requires daily maintenance and some brute strength that is tough for me to do these days. The degenerative changes in my spine are not going to go away so what will I/we do about all of those flower and fruit and vegetable beds out there? Keep watering for now, pray about it, and realize that it’s probably time to spend less time there and more time dwelling in the presence of my Lord, Jesus Christ.

And so I shall.

Gee, suddenly I feel less stressed about things. Thank you Jesus. You care about these issues in my life and in those of the Gentle Readers out there too, holding every one in the palm of your hand, the love in your heart, with the promise of your return. Things will work out according to Your Divine plan for our lives. In this we can rest tonight.

And so we shall, eh?

He is out of the woods

As soon as we made it across the States to his hospital bed in that massive place

I was overcome with the smell of sickness, gloom, and death beeping along the layers of sheets and tubes.

Therein lain my dear brother, eyes swollen shut and breathing guided by the lifeline protruding from his mouth. Are you in there Mike?

Four days he would sleep, barely stirring when painful procedures ensued . . . then we knew: he is waking up! And out came the feeding tube with one sharp yank. Ouch!

It wasn’t long before he was demanding this and that, or so I am told, as the old cravings for smokes also awakened in his stiff, ace-wrapped frame. Let’s hope “the patch” holds him over.

I can hope for better days once he starts to move a little more yet I know better than that. He and his love/caregiver will have to figure out how to make it past this first major crisis since his stroke 6 years ago. Yet there were others with seizures from meds prescribed amiss.

Long term care sounds better to me but I am not the one in the driver’s seat even as my beloved and I returned home from our whirlwind Sunday visit. So glad there will be more days together, to come.

I saw her love for him and that was enough for me to let the “big sister syndrome” go. To just listen will be my way of showing support when she calls me now and then, returns my own.

Dear Mike, do find meaning in this broken phase of life: something to give yourself to and to care for the vessel albeit wrecked with pain and parts that don’t work right at all. Our Lord will sustain you and treasure you through the many hours alone when your body begins to spasm or shake. This I do know. He is there both inside and out of the woods you know . . .

I love you Mike. JJ

UPDATE: Mike woke up about 4 days later and was discharged home another 3 days thereafter, to be with his fiance. He was shaken up from not remembering those early days in the ICU yet is seeking a renewed direction for his life. This is good! Oh, and his insurance issues giving rise to medication issues and this medical crisis are largely resolved as well. Praise the Lord!

Freedom from Rain

Rainy weather working its foggy magic on a landscape is beautiful. A rainy day encourages introspection. Or at the very least a nap. I love the rain in all of its spirited and benign forms. But we have had rain day after day without much respite. This is rain of a different sort. Too much rain foments rot both above and below ground. Too much rain spoils blooms. Too much rain dampens the spirit. We have had all of the aforementioned. 

Deborah Silver

Is it the rain or the cold that gets to my weary bones far beyond the havoc it reigns in the garden landscape?

Perhaps the dry-out late in July that parches the land through the Fall is even worse, when my soul aches for a simple cup of relief?

How will I look back on this season of my own life where moments of respite, nourished from the right care gives way to occasional relapse and now tragedy?

Alas my dear brother, survived with me but not with our youngest, Rob, lies in a coma amidst the sterile hum of machines you could never repair

In your appliance servicing days let alone fix your own broken spirit from never quite fitting into the affections of our Dad but perhaps too much by our Mom?

What is Mike’s world like right now: can he hear the buzz, taste the plastic tube down his throat, smell the air now sanitized and finally free of cigarette smoke?

I ache for you as I did for Rob. You two never did get the advantages I had as the oldest nor fight long enough for better despite our childhood traumas.

Or perhaps that first year of my life cinched it when there was more love to give in both bloodlines . . . oh how I wish I could go back and carve more out for you!

The Lord grieves for us three as now you are now in the juxtaposition from time to eternity. It’s just not how He meant it to be you know.

I will love you forever Mike. Godspeed if this is the end. Go to your Maker and live at last, totally freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

A rain garden rises from the soil and rocks, bringing beauty and purification. Consider this a sign in the natural world of His creation that imitates the glory of a life surrendered to Christ.