Greetings Dear Reader,
As I ponder the home that is turning back into a house I
ponder some of the losses that have transpired in these rooms. I moved into this house to make a place for
Christmas as we adopted her. We needed
someplace large enough for three adults.
Within a year Avalon had decided that being married to me
was the worst of times. She moved out
and moved on to the best of times she wished to have. Avalon leaving me is an eternally echoing worst
of times.
There was a winter where Christmas was bed bound for
weeks. She felt so guilty for being ill
as she had not healed enough emotionally to know that it was out of her control. I felt so helpless to help with her pain and
discomfort. It was not until she was
healed that I shared my fear during her illness.
I have prayed alone in the darkness for Avalon, my children,
my grandchildren, and others. I have
wept in wee hours of the morning when the loneliness overwhelms me. I have seen the death of dreams in this
place. That may be the deepest pain of
all.
There have been other very dark times in this house. In all of them I have found two things to be
true. The first is that no matter how
dark it is there is deeper darkness out there. The second is that in the
darkness there is always the Light.
This is not a platitude.
Christ has seen me through the worst of times. He is the constant in the chaos; the fulcrum
in the void. No matter how dark it is if
I follow the Light I will make my way out of the darkness.
Even the worst of times work to achieve the final good of
retuning all things to Christ. If the
darkness serves that then all is well with my soul.
One
Whit Duck – Jethro Tull
There's a haze on the skyline, to wish me on my way.
And there's a note on the telephone --- some roses on a tray.
And the motorway's stretching right out to us all,
As I pull on my old wings --- one white duck on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
One white duck on your wall, one duck on your wall
I'll catch a ride on your violin --- strung upon your bow.
And I'll float on your melody --- sing your chorus soft and
low.
There's a picture-view postcard to say that I called.
You can see from the fireplace, one white duck on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
One white duck on your wall, one duck on your wall
So fly away Peter and fly away Paul --- from the
Finger-tip ledge of contentment.
The long restless rustle of high-heeled boots calls.
And I'm probably bound to deceive you after all.
Something must be wrong with me and my brain ---
If I'm so patently unrewarding.
But my dreams are for dreaming and best left that Way ---
And my zero to your power of ten equals nothing at all.
There's no double-lock defense; there's no chain on my door.
I'm available for consultation,
But remember your way in is also my way out,
And Love’s four-letter word is no compensation.
Well, I'm the Black Ace dog-handler: I'm a waiter on skates
---
So don't you jump to your foreskin conclusion.
Because I'm up to my deaf ears in cold breakfast trays ---
To be cleared before I can dine on your sweet Sunday lunch
confusion.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer
who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home
owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure
store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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