Tuesday 13 April 2010

39

There are computer games, which start with a landscape covered in a "black fog". Wherever your characters move, the fog clears in front of them, revealing more of the game level's landscape until, after a while, everything is visible. Nothing can remain hidden. No enemy can attack from the shadows.

If last year's diagnosis started the game, surrounding me with uncertainty, turning 39 feels significant. A year won back from the fog. A little more has cleared. I'm hoping that a lot more of my "landscape" will become visible in the next few months.

Friday 9 April 2010

Torches



I now look after the boys on Fridays. While Gina Ford wouldn't be proud of us, we do have a sort of structure for what happens during the day. After breakfast, we make the room dark, turn on loud music and go mad with my bike lights!!

At least they're getting some use.

Sunday 4 April 2010

New life

What a precious gift this life is. You only get one crack at it. Its full of mysteries that science tries to unravel and medicine tries to heal. It seems so fragile, and yet its so powerful.

Easter bursts at the seams with it. Jesus' journey from death to life has to be the most significant single event in human history. Death is no longer the full-stop. He is the source of life in all its fullness. Consider that!

During our Easter morning celebrations, Claudia and 3 others - including Darren's Linda!! - were baptised (also a symbol of passing from death to new life).

Friday 2 April 2010

There was a green hill

Its usually overcast for me on Good Friday. Tracking the events leading up to Jesus' death, left me with a lingering melancholy. It all seemed so hopeless. Thank God it didnt end there. The weather certainly played its part.

Today was also a mini-anniversary that was playing quietly in the back of my mind. The 2nd April 2009 was the day my diagnosis was confirmed. The day Claudia, the boys and i went on a very lonely walk, on a hill overlooking Bath, trying to absorb the news.

But perspective is everything. We were given a bottle of champagne by dear friends who, anticipating this day, encouraged us to see the distance we have come and the exciting path to full recovery ahead. Amazing how you can turn glum-ness on its head!