Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Entering a new land

I woke up this morning to a beautiful bright blue sky. After I struggled to get my trash and recycling outside (five trips and I was exhausted), I went back to bed.

It occurred to me that I have entered a new land; I have a new baptism. I am no longer a part of the world that was once mine. I am no long invincible; I am no longer immortal. I am no longer so strong that I can do anything I set out to do. I am human, finite, limited, mortal.

Instead of sadness, there is sweetness. The blue sky is somehow bluer, the birds are somehow more melodic, the grass is somehow greener, the azaleas pinker. It is a gift, this life on the otherside.

I have heard folks who have battled cancer, who have come back from the brink of death say that life changes for them. I have listened to their descriptions and have wondered and been, I must admit, a bit jealous. I have tried to live in the present, but often it is in the past or future. For right now, this minute, though I am in the present.

I imagine this newness will become old; that I will get used to life again; that I will find myself not in the present but in the past or future. But for right now, I have been given a gift.

5 comments:

Dorcas (aka SingingOwl) said...

Smiling at this, and at your thot of flames on your bald head (oh!) and also praying for you and for your church family, after reading the post below.

Joan Calvin said...

Thanks! I really would like the flames, but I want to keep my hair as long as possible.

Gannet Girl said...

I left you a message on RevGals but don't know whether you will see it. Where you are probably going for a second opinion is a matter of blocks from my home and I go there, imagine that, from seminary for most long week-ends.Please email me @ gannetgirl@sbcglobal.net if you'd like me to come hang out with you for a bit.I see that as liberal Presby photographer former lawyer types we could find plenty to discuss in addition to your present reality! It would be my pleasure to meet you at the hospital or take you somewhere away from there so that you can have other memories of Cleveland, too.

Deb said...

Hi Joan-
I love your sense of humor - you could go all out and tatoo them on your head, you know... (just kidding!)

I am praying for peace and joy and grace for you. I think that when we grapple with our finiteness there is always a sense of shock and awe (not the military kind).

You're in my prayers..

Deb

Jules said...

Thanks be to God.