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.

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Divine Detour Along an Irregular Trail

The Detour Leads Where?!

A short post from the Wild Gray Goose? 

Well, not zackly.  Meditating over this beach sunrise IN the Wild Gray Goose (the name we lettered on to our travel trailer), I read my January then my March posts.  They were too good to let slip on to the past post right margin.  A read, smile, teared.  You see, my trail has been irregular and irregularly wonderful.  It's all a gift from a God gracious beyond comprehension. Then the detour.  Such requires re-thinking, re-planning, but mostly re-committing to the Wild Goose I follow no matter the trail, speed bumps, or detour He guides me past.  Yes, "past." 

I think I was taking for granted the laziness of my formerly passive prostate cancer. When I sent the Provenge special forces to the battle, the pc enemy screamed, "GAME ON!!"  Seems there are now outposts in multiple locations in my skeletal and lymph structures.  I start chemo in five days.  Yuk!

SO, it may just be that my contribution to man/woman kind, especially my faith-framed brothers and sisters, is that I aquit well my Finish Well leg of The Race.  Thus, I offer you five minutes, perhaps more, of reflection by directing you to the January and March posts.  Poetic but centered, these captured my state of being along the trail.  Turns out that race is neither a dash nor a marathon, but a cross-country run over obstacles and even detours.

I Starbucked a post at Gendads while awaiting my visit to the oncologist.  Thoughts for you when you are caught between learning What Is and knowing I AM is in utter control.

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