Wild Gray Goose

Celtic tradition identifies the Holy Spirit as a Wild Goose. He is the wings of a Wild God best followed by the wildest of men. I'm gray. I'm wild. Like He, I am not always predictable, rational, or safe. I believe my full life and my still maturing years of Walking With God offer both heart and substance for younger lads to consider. Now with 4th stage prostate cancer, following the Wild Goose has a different pace and perspective worth reflecting on...and sharing.

My Photo
Name:
Location: Full Time RV, mostly near Temecula, California, United States

I'm a young fella not far from 73 who's made it to the far and frayed edges of the adventures I‘ve been hankering for since boyhood. The age thing and my pursuits are relevant since I now have advanced 4th stage cancer, moved from unsuccessful chemo treatment to oral med...and they seem to be working. Now, after selling the ranch, my beautiful life-mate of 48 years and I live and travel in an fifth wheel RV we call our "covered wagon". The new and rich development of 2012 is our purchase of ranch in the marvelous plateau above GRAND JUNCTION at the head of the Colorado National Monument where my young family with six children run a whole-family therapy ranch, DEEP RIVERS FAMILY RANCH.

Friday, November 30, 2012

SONrise on the way to Sunset


Yes, it's a lame play on the word. But it fits.

My life, unlike this blog, has few empty spots. Full is good. But, sometimes, "full" is too much. Under the "finish well" mantra, we full-life guys overdo a lot of things when we see the end in sight. Guilty, your honor. Slowing more than just a bit forced by a fatal disease allows reflections that do not mature at high speed. Reflections that turn inward where the heart, redeemed by God, becomes a filter for all else out there.

 These are the days called by some the "sunset years." The mystery of post-Fall disease is really the wonderful mystery of a holy God's character. How He dispenses pain and suffering and to whom He dispenses it is a question whose answer can only find sense in Heaven.

Which brings me to Sonrise and sunsets. My fourth stage aggressive prostate cancer hastens the end of life metaphor. From light to shades of dark to "lights out" when referring to the shortened life of one of God's elect and redeemed is like one of those slow motion replays. "Yikes, where did it all go?" But the Grace of Death is like the sunset, hastened or not. Right before the dark comes the dazzle of mellow golds, oranges, blues, and greens. Most of that is family, three generations all in one place, our blessed Deep Rivers Family Ranch.

So, the Sonrise thing? Today, again, I am seeing at this very moment as I write in haste to catch its full impact, the most, the absolutely most, incredible beauty in a sunrise. I watched it for an hour yesterday, eager for the family to awake so I can share its joy. Honestly, it is a delight to be shared but somehow this slow UNhastened sunrise--fiery red like I've never, ever seen--seems a gift just for me. So, SONrise ain't so lame after all.

I'm up early for my cancer meds (you'll get the picture in a second). It's quiet for another hour. There's ten of us living here. So I see--yes, the sky is still incredibly ablaze--this morning as a gift. I will prize all the day then look eagerly ahead for tomorrow's gift, first the Sonrise, then the love it represents found in this family.  

I cannot answer the question. That, too, awaits Heaven's timeless moment: Why me? Election, salvation, and years of Grace unearned. Why this Sonrise?

'Scuse me now. I have just enough of the Gift left to pace the deck outside to take in its full expanse. I wonder if this is the morning I'll see deer or elk. That would be ribbons and bows on the Gift.

NO WAY!!  Ribbons and bows of gold.  Nope, nothing off the deck across our valley.  Back to the kitchen for one more cup of coffee...THERE THEY WERE!.  Four deer just above the woodpile munching their way slowly across the hillside. What a wonderous and gracious God.  More lessons from On High?  Some of the Creator's best qifts are wrapped with a note on the tag. Mine read:  "Keep it slow and full.  My best gift of all awaits up here.  I'm preparing a ranch mansion for you, but I'm not ready for you quite yet."
The SON rises to greet me.  What Grace! 
And wrapped with Golden Bows