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.

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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.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Journaling Wild and Gray

Don't make too much of the "Gray" thing.  Life is bright, exciting, full--too full.  "Gray" gives mystical tone to the Wild Goose, the description of the Holy Spirit by my Celtic forefathers.  And mystical and myserious and magical and mighty are the wings I follow.  Seldom predictable are the glens and glades, the mountains and the valleys, the glistening lakes and the swamplands, He will take me to.  Wonderfully odd that He is the portion both indwelling and guiding me of the immutable God with Whom there is "no shadow of turning."  And Who awaits my presence.

The "Wild" part sure fits, though. For some--not all--"wild" and "wonderful" are twins.  I'm pensive today.  You can smile when pensive, you know. I smiled scanning my journal and pondering what a wonderful and wild life He had assigned me.  Yes, "assigned."  It's a Grace thing.

So, I wrote this morning.  Really, I WROTE.  By hand.  In my journal. That holds lots over keyboarding.  Keep in mind the frame of reference; cancer, Deep Rivers Family Ranch, the Book (Generational Fathering), and a joyful marriage that fills in the pastels of a wild and wonderful life.

One journal section reads,(After reading, again, Proverbs 19:21, "We humans keep brainstorming options and plans, but God's purpose prevails.").  "I make my plans as if the end were in sight.  Well, it is.  And I do.  It's just that the fog of God's mystery shrouds the milemarkers ahead.  I guess I'll catch a glimpse of my Father's cairns here and there. Wassat I hear? I believe it's the honk of my Friend luring me on ward into the Grand Mystery."

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Anonymous Jack said...

Good stuff here Gary. Love what u bring brother.

1:01 PM  

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