Home to House – The Final Push

Greetings Dear Reader,

Charter is revealed in so many things.  How do we handle ourselves when no one is watching or when we think we will not be found out?  How do we behave when we are hurt, angry, or broken hearted?  What is the attitude that we carry in our hearts?

I already know that the week will be trying.  Both the social and physical aspects of completing the move will be challenging.  The days for rest with my Son helped.  Other things have made it more difficult.  My friend Val observed that I seem very sad. 

I supposed that I am sad.  There is also the joy of anticipating how Christ will lead me in these new surroundings.  I admit that I hold little hope for liking it.  I have a hard deck where hope is concerned.  I refuse to lose my hope in Christ.  My hope for other things, however, is quite thin. 

My fallen nature wants me to believe this is some kind of comeuppance for the failures of my earlier life.  I realize that this is not how God deals with us but sometimes the taunting voice is quite loud.  I want to see this pain and separation as an opportunity.   I have no life experience on which to base that hope so it is hollow and unformed.

As I go back to the chore of turning home to house today I do so with a heavier heart than expected.  New sorrows have found companionship with the original ones and try to turn my efforts to lead.  In this time I will do as I must but I am struggling to find joy in the journey.

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 ͡°)

The Best of Times; the Worst of Times – Losses

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 ͡°)