No church today.
I missed being there.
No way to rise, stand or kneel without putting my knee at further risk. This week it decided to lock in place at unexpected times, leaving me hurting and tip-toeing.
Even though the teaching in I Corinthians 12 refers to the Church; it doesn’t take much pain or malfunction of the human body to realize the truth, “all parts of the body are needed.”
From my Perch, today’s vista stayed cloaked in fog and mist, blurring the line between land and sea.
Aging can blur more than vision, leaving one fearful of letting loose of what was, to grasp hold of what’s out there, if interested.
It’s tempting to dwell on what I did but can no longer do; to waste whatever time I have lamenting losses instead of learning what’s possible. (In the practical, it could mean possible surgery for a balky knee.)
Sometimes, the unpredictability of this end of life feels like encroaching fog.
Some of you might be thinking, “she sounds like she’s preparing to die.”
Nope, just reflective.
Fog does that to me.
Part of what makes life so mysterious and laden with wonder is the unpredictability of it all.
It’s also frustrating and unsettling.
Joan Chittister in The Gift of Years writes,”Holiness is made of dailiness, of living life as it comes to me, not as I insist it be.”
Time to back off from control.
This story has been viewed 5 times3 people HEART this story