I often ponder, and wish to write about, the challenges to open discussion of problems in the world. How words seem to morph in meaning, and some are used as arrows and mud rather than to discuss and illuminate.
But while I was writing and rewriting such a post, some new words were dumped into our lives. Ugly words ~ like biopsy. Cancer. Bone scan. Treatment protocols. Radiation.
And maybe a few hopeful words. Contained. Seven weeks. Good chance. And “God is in control.”
So while these words are dominating our days, my time will be spent elsewhere. Hope to meet you here again soon, but until then, I’m spending my words on medical jargon and insurance companies and on keeping my hubby encouraged as I drive him to daily treatments. And writing ~ of course.
May the words in your life during this season bring peace and joy to you.
An old-fashioned-looking print hangs where I see it first thing every morning. A young girl, clad in pink dress with white apron, pink hat with bow tied under her chin, and black-stockings and little black slippers stands in a wheelbarrow. She grasps a pink rose in the hand hanging at her side. Her other is held out to the tender ministrations of a tall, white-haired man. He studies her hand, whole body intent on her, as he removes a thorn.
I love this picture, a gift from my husband. The absolute tenderness with which the gentleman attends the child’s wound is touching. A clear representation of God’s tender care.
Roses in the painting have thorns. That’s realistic; they do. They’re also a perfect picture of God at work in our world—wrapping tough, painful things like thorns in the fragrant beauty of lush roses. And though the rose gardens of this world are lovely, we live in a fallen world, and thorns abound. But they’re not a mistake. After all, do you think roses had thorns in The Garden of Eden? Or did the prickly things only appear after the fall? Continue reading