Subtle Symphony

Note: Diffcult subject ahead. Please don't take offense at this servants ramblings and opinions.

So I intended to have all but wonderful things to say tonight and I do indeed plan on getting to them, but first I was hopeing to let my mind wander over this ever imminent topic. As I type this two lives very dear to me hang in the balance. I have at the moment two very sick Grandfathers. Two very different, but very loveable men who have impacted many in the wake of their lives. Tonight as I sat at bible study with my friends I was given the opportunity to close in prayer again and though it did not come out as elequently as I intended it was a blessing to have my friends praying with me in such a time. Prayer is so potent a tool. Not easily abused, if ever, by design and yet capable of devistating the realm of possibility. Yet some things are...unavoidable.

I listen to how others have been handleing it. This delicate rhythm built of slowing heart beats and silent cries. Some people are capable of handling it, by which I mean to say that though they are wracked with grief they are able to stand strong through it. These people, dare I say, are either assured in some fashion or capable of great acceptance. It is often harder for me to watch those around me faulter and fall due to the circumstances than it is to sit beside the one whos song has come to its closing.

By contrast I admit I am only partialy wounded by the state of affairs my Grandfathers are in. I am prepared, not oblivious. I am assured, not rebelious. (I am NOT implying anything to any reader.) Truly it is not death that scares me but the transition. No one want's to watch their mother, brother, or friend deteriorate because we know it plain sucks. It is not fuzzy bunnies and ice cream. So I am truly saddened by the struggle if not the outcome. I'm sure that sounds in some way to be shallow or without care, perhaps even a shade heartless in the midst of these days. If it does I am sorry, please forgive me.

Truly though life is like many things among metaphores, I like to think of it as a song for the moment. A subtle opening with a gentle beat, blossoming into waves of either a melodic symphony or a cacophony of mis-smatched sounds. The ending though is one we will not avoid. As the beats count down we grip each other for support in our weakness, in our helplessness. Most of all in our horrible anticipation of the moment that the beat will stop and this song will end. We should know, and many of us do, that no song lasts through the ages save for the song of salvation. A song which played since their was a man to play it to and will continue for those yet to come. Take solace in this if you can and when you can. Know that every beat is divinely composed and harmoniously delivered weather you like the sound...or not. For some it won't matter that this is true. It will simply be too hard to take a deep breath between the gasps. Understandable, not every song ends well and not every song ends when we want, but like the song says. "...And life's like an hourglass glued to the table..."