Rabid Fun

A Dirty Old Man On Wheels

05/04/2012

Friday, May 4, 2012

God sees to it that we have whatever we need to do whatever He wants done.

Case in point: last summer as my daughter Jennifer and I shopped in a thrift store, we spotted a walker. One of those contraptions with four wheels decrepit folks can push along. It had a fold-down seat where the poor old dears can sit when they tire.

Jennifer wanted to buy it for me.

I said, “Humph! Grump! Don’t need no @%*^ walker! Gruff, Groan. Aint that old and feeble!. Not me! Humph. Insulted. Prefff. Whistle. I’m ok! Don’t even really need my cane. Humph!”

She relented.

Time passed.

Guess who can hardly walk from here to the bathroom now?

Guess who came to see the advantages of a walker?

Guess who didn’t have one?

Guess who is so loved by family, friends and neighbors that when I admitted I needed a walker…?

Earlier this week I came within inches of owning four wheeled walkers!

Yes, four!

Whittled those down to  one, but I had to beat loving people off with a stick, they all were so intent on making sure I have what I need.

Makes me feel like Ezekiel.

When he saw the vision of God coming at him with all those wheels—I think maybe Ezekiel may have needed a wheeled walker and the Lord poured them on him.

Having my walker lessens my pain and increases my range. I’ve walked for blocks this week, further than I have in the past year.

I tied a folding lawn chair on the front of my walker so when Ginny and I went to the park, we just pick a place in the shade and we can both sit without having to search for a free park bench.

The other night we strolled in Riverside Park to watch wading birds squawk, and flutter seeking a roost on the island. Cranes, egrets, herons and wood storks—beautiful white wings in the sunset.

Last night, to watch the rising of the periodic Supermoon over the river, we had to park six blocks away from the Northbank Riverwalk because of concert crowds, but I managed to walk to the romantic spot where we sat and talked beside the beauty of the moonlite river.

I wanted to stroll down to the memorial spire commemorating the Great Fire of Jacksonville (111 years ago today) but I faded too soon. Having a walker does not make me Superman, though I’d like to think so

I have to learn that however far I walk, I must walk that same distance to get back to the car. With the walker, as with everything else, I tend to overdo it.

“Humph! Grump! Don’t need no walker! Gruff, Groan. Aint that feeble!. Not me! Humph… I’m ok! Don’t even really need my cane. Humph!”

On a different note, I’ve been reading Rule And Exercises Of Holy Living and Holy Dying by Jeremy Taylor, a happy and helpful book!

Taylor (1613-1667) served as royal chaplain to England’s Charles I, the king they beheaded.

Referring to some Virgin Martyr in the far past, Taylor observed, “It is easier to die for chastity than to live with it”.

Concerning work he said, “It is presumption to hope that God’s mercies will be poured forth upon lazy persons”.

On preparing for a happy end, he said, “Let a man frequently and seriously, by imagination, place himself upon his deathbed, and consider what great joy he shall have for the remembrance of every day well spent”.

And Taylor encourages me to think on Christ and to live happy and content. “If thy bed be uneasy, yet it is not worse than His manger; and He suffered all the sorrows which we deserve. We therefore have great reason to sit down upon our own hearths, and warm ourselves at our own fires, and feed upon content at home,” he said.

Learning of a neighbor’s entering a hospice program yesterday caused me to think a bit about my own demise soon or late. And Taylor’s book puts me in a happy frame of mind.

I feel ready for whatever comes—I got wheels.