Will my rope break?

Today, when I was dressed, my carer asked me, "How has your illness affected your faith?" Oh, crikey! as Billy Bunter would have said. But it was a good question.

"Well," I replied, "it's got thinner. It's like a rope that was fat, with lots of strands, and now it's thin, but it's not less strong. I think it will still hold me. Before a lot of the strands were made by me - such as being useful, doing things for God, like being a vicar, praying. Now those strands are fraying. For example it find it very hard to pray."

"Really?"

"Yes. When I hear of good friends with terminal cancer, I really don't know what to ask for. I can't find the words to pray. I just feel upset."

"Isn't that the best kind of praying?" asks my carer, who doesn't go to church. "It's honest." He's not wrong. I continue musing. I agreed.

"Are you worried about the future?" he asks, meaning the inevitable shutting down of my muscles.  

"I don't think I am," I reply. "There's a difference between worrying what might happen and worrying about what will happen, isn't there? The first is understandable; the second is pointless.

"Although my strands have frayed, what's left are God's cords and I reckon they are utterly reliable. It's a bit like abseiling with a safety rope. Even if you let go of the brake rope, you're still safe. Of course," I admit, "I don't know what I'll feel when I can't speak or do anything for myself. Maybe I'll think differently then. Maybe my faith will give way."

"I don't think it will, somehow," is my carer's comment.

"I hope not. There's a great verse in the Bible: 'If we are faithless, He remains faithful' (2 Timothy 2.13). I might let go, but God won't, because that's his character. That's where my faith has got to now."

 Our conversation had to end as my legs were locking up and I needed to move towards the lift. So off I tottered hanging on to the rollator. Oh yes, and at some point I'd commented that my faith was less cerebral now, less a matter of ideas or doctrines. I didn't doubt God's existence or his love, but I didn't understand it at all. There's much more mystery about God and everything than I'd ever imagined. And somehow I'm comfortable with that too.

I love this picture from the National Geographic. I trust I'll be as free as that when I am left entirely suspended on the rope of God's love.

God in the ordinary and extraordinary

Readers of my Diary of a Donkeybody blog may remember that early in our time here I had many early mornings communing with a irritatingly cheerful robin, who would sing at all hours of the night in the shrubs outside our bedroom. I grumbled ungratefully about him, and then in the cruellest cut of all we had the shrubs removed and replaced them with a couple of, as yet, spindly trees. And the robin deserted us. I can't blame him. In the past few weeks, a replacement has come. He doesn't start at midnight, as his predecessor used to, but I've heard him from three o'clock onwards. In fact I was listening to him this morning. And so far, I've not complained.

When Jane was rushed to hospital on the Tuesday before Christmas, lying alone in her rather bleak hospital room, collar-bone splintered, a not-so-dim light in the corridor outside, her mood matched her surroundings. Such is my surmise. Maybe she was also wondering how I'd cope without her.... In those sorts of situation one does wonder what God's up to, whether maybe he's taken his eye off you for a moment. Suddenly in the concrete jungle of the John Radcliffe Hospital a robin sang outside her window, and it seemed to Jane that even there her Creator God was present, after all. That's why I'm not going to grumble any more when robins wake me up at an unearthly hour, because as I've said before it was very clear that God was always on our case even when she fell. You may remember what Jesus had to say about birds: "What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it." It's a reasonable deduction that the same is true of us - which is, it has to be said, hard to get your mind round. 

It takes time to assimilate. So here's something that might help. Lillian Boutté singing 'His eye on the sparrow'. It's a video made a couple of years ago in our old church in Oxfordshire, at memorial concert for a friend. The great thing is that Lillian believes every word. And so do I, except that when I sing I sound more like an owl than a robin.

And here are two more things that make me feel God is on our case: the service I'm getting from the NHS and our local MNDA branch. Perhaps it's more to do with the love I experience through and around them. For example, a fortnight ago I was enjoying a chocolate - no, it wasn't hard-centred - and out popped a big old filling. So we booked an emergency appointment; our son took a day's holiday (no less!) since Jane can't drive or hoik me around. A nice new dentist dealt with it painlessly and I was out. Three days later, it was soft baked potato that did for the inner wall of the same tooth. This time, John whose wife died just before Christmas came to the rescue with his converted Fiat Doblo (for sale, by the way, if you're interested, vgc, low mileage) in the back of which I rode in style in my wheelchair. Another young dentist dealt with me at the clinic and I've had no trouble since.... What's struck me was how ready everyone, family, friends and professionals are to accommodate and help. That's quite special.

Lesley, MNDA branch secretary

On the Saturday between dental visits we had our first branch meeting of the year. Again it was a case of our son chauffeuring both ways. The overwhelming feeling I come away with from such meetings is how many people care about those of us with the conditions, from volunteers such as Lesley, the secretary, to the professionals such as the top-class team who do the research and coordinate care in the area. There's no question but that they are motivated by determined kindness. It's humbling to be on the receiving end - and I'm grateful, grateful to them, and grateful to God for them.

Fanny's exemplary death

I've just read a blog post in Alison Bailey Castellina's Between Worlds. It's about Fanny Dickens, Charles' talented older sister, about whom, I'm ashamed to say, being a former English teacher, I knew next to nothing. 

"She was two years his elder, a child prodigy, who was trained at the Royal Academy of Music and studied under Beethoven's pupil. As an adult, long before feminism, she taught music at the Royal Academy.
"Charles Dickens was not the only gifted person in his family. Charles grew up in Fanny's shadow, in terms of talent. He was rather jealous of his parents' focus on her gifts and future - but still loved her dearly. She became a converted believer, a non-conformist. She tragically died an exemplary death aged only 38, leaving young children."

from Wikipedia en.org

Alison also gives a link to the letter that Dickens wrote to his friend, John Forster, after his last visit to Fanny, when she was dying of tuberculosis. Being interested in the idea of "an exemplary death" I clicked on the link. "I asked her whether she had any care or anxiety in the world. She said No, none. It was hard to die at such a time of life, but she had no alarm whatever in the prospect of the change; felt sure we should meet again in a better world; and although they had said she might rally for a time, did not really wish it. She said she was quite calm and happy, relied upon the mediation of Christ, and had no terror at all. She had worked very hard, even when ill; but believed that was in her nature, and neither regretted nor complained of it. Burnett (her husband) had been always very good to her; they had never quarrelled; she was sorry to think of his going back to such a lonely home; and was distressed about her children, but not painfully so." 

Not that the meeting was devoid of emotion. Far from it. The letter reveals the emotion on both sides. Fanny, "though she shed tears sometimes, clearly impressed upon me that her mind was made up, and at rest" and for Charles, "God knows how small the world looks to one who comes out of such a sick-room on a bright summer day. I don't know why I write this before going to bed. I only know that in the very pity and grief of my heart, I feel as if it were doing something."

I'm reminded of St Paul: "If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.... But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep." Fanny wasn't wrong.

Unknown, but not alone

I was talking recently to someone about King George 6th's Christmas broadcast in 1939. He's the king of The King's Speech of course and there were five years of the 2nd World War ahead. In the face of the unknown darkness, he ended his message quoting this: "I said to the man who stood at the Gate of the Year, 'Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.' 

And he replied, 'Go out into the darkness, and put your hand into the Hand of God. 

That shall be better than light, and safer than a known way'" - which is part of a poem called God Knows by Minnie Louise Haskins. He had been given the whole poem by his wife. I shouldn't be surprised that it was more than a token gesture. From his brother's abdication through the war his was a hard burden to pick up and one he'd rather have been without.

I was reminded of it again when Jane forwarded this New Year's meditation to me yesterday. 

SIX OF THE NEEDS YOU WILL HAVE IN 2012

If the Lord is willing, we shall live and we shall do this or that [thing]. James 4:15 AMP

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Matthew 6:34 AMP

Teach me to do Your will, for You are my God. May Your gracious Spirit lead me forward on a firm footing. Psalm 143:10 NLT

One thing you can be certain about in the coming year is that you can’t be certain about what is ahead. This is a great blessing, because you do not need to know. To know what is ahead and the details of what will happen would be too great a burden to carry and too great a responsibility to bear.

What you do need to know about the future is not what is ahead of you, but Who is ahead of you. It is the Lord who goes before you, is ahead of you, and is preparing the way for you. Your future is in His sure, strong, caring hands.

 I am with you, and I will protect you wherever you go. One day I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have finished giving you everything I have promised you. Genesis 28:15 NLT

As you pass through the door of 2011 and enter the door of 2012, here are six of the needs you are certain to have:-

1.     THERE WILL BE THE NEED FOR PRAYER:

Until you get to heaven, there will always be the need for prayer. In every prayer as a believer, you will be speaking to the living God, your loving Father—the One who invites you to come, the One who hears your cries, the One who answers your prayers, and the One who will work all things together for the good according to His will and purpose. (I don't think spoken prayers are always needed, by the way; I'm sure the Spirit interprets our aches and groans to the Father when we can't "pray".)

2.     THERE WILL BE THE NEED TO TRUST:

God does not want you to be fearful or worried about what is ahead. He will give you what you need when you need it; He will tell what you need to know when it is time to know it; He will show what you need to see when it is time to see it. When He is silent about any matter, be at peace about it and do not become anxious.

3.     THERE WILL BE THE NEED TO OBEY:

You will never outgrow your need for obedience. To obey the Lord is to please the Lord. He will always give you the provision, the time, and the opportunity to do what He has asked you to do. If He is not asking you to do anything new or different at the present time, continue to do the last thing He asked of you.

4.     THERE WILL BE THE NEED TO FORGIVE:

No one will ever act perfectly or speak perfectly to you. Even those who love you will not perform perfectly. Forgiveness is an attitude of the heart and a choice of the will that you must walk in each day. Some people carry hurt, bitterness, or resentment in their hearts for years, never wanting to let go of the past. As you go through the door of 2012, drop at the entryway, all the hurts of yesterday and carry them no more.

5.     THERE WILL BE THE NEED TO BE FAITHFUL:

In 2012 you will need to press on in the will of God for your life; you will need to walk on through the valleys and over the mountain tops that you will face; you will need to carry on in your service of love to others; you will need to live on in the will of God with a thankful heart, with praise upon your lips, and with zeal in your spirit.

6.     THERE WILL BE THE NEED FOR JESUS:

Every day, in every moment, through every circumstance of 2012, you will need Jesus. You will need Him fully and you will need to trust Him completely. You will need His grace to enable you, His Spirit to empower you, His strength to support you, and His counsel to instruct you in all the will of God.

The best place is wherever He puts us, and any other would be undesirable, all the worse because it would please our fancy, and would be of our own choice. Do not think about distant events. This uneasiness about the future is unwholesome for you. We must leave to God all that depends on Him, and think only of being faithful in all that depends upon ourselves. When God takes away that which He has given you, He knows well how to replace it either through other means or by Himself.  (François Fenelon)

Strive to carry yourself with total resignation to the Divine will that God may do with you and all according to His heavenly pleasure, relying on Him as on a kind and loving Father.   (Miguel de Molinos)

New Year meditation by Roy Lessin

Good stuff, Roy. And I think I'd add a 7th: "You will always need forgiveness." In other words, don't be surprised or disappointed when you 'fail' in the six, because God knows you will. And He's full of love and mercy. So don't beat yourself up. Just accept you're not perfect and we all get it wrong. BUT HE STILL LOVES YOU - FOR JESUS' SAKE!

Saying goodbye

Another sad funeral yesterday of our friend Jean who lived in Grove and also had MND, though hers was rampantly quick. I hadn't expected to be able to go, but thanks to Paul taking a shift of caring duties this week and thanks to RSA Insurance being very obliging with insuring our Motability car, he drove us and pushed me there. As always at funerals we learned a lot about her, including a lovely story about the start of her romance with John in West London, involving "Fight or flight"! After marrying they moved into a new house here, where they've been ever since.

Her life was incredibly full, and in particular full of people, whom she'd cared for or helped, run clubs for or raised money for. Most of all she enjoyed her family, including 7 grandchildren. We really got to know her in the last year of her life because of her MND, and even in its frightening onset you could see her sense of fun and her enjoyment of friends and family.

I was reminded of her when I read this from the empower network.com. It's about the top five regrets people have on their deathbeds. I think it's written by a palliative care nurse named Caroline, and I thought, "I doubt Jean had many such regrets, especially about neglected relationships":

"For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives. People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality.

"I learnt never to underestimate someone’s capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.

"When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:

"1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
This was the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.

"It is very important to try and honour at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.

"2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.
This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.

"By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.

"3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.

"We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

"4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.

"It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end.
That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

"5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again. When you are on your deathbed, what  others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying."

I'd add one more, "I wish I'd stayed in touch with God." I suspect it's a big one.