The cure

"There's no cure for... [insert any physical or psychological ailment].

I think most folks kind of believe that, with all those "incurable illnesses" we hear about. They are, you see, illnesses that no one ever recovers from.
Except, that is, for the people who do actually "miraculously" recover from them, but are in a statistically insignificant minority.

But when we pause to recognise that each and every one of us is a statistically insignificant minority then that sort of thinking starts to lose its appeal, if we can temporarily allow the words "appeal" and "statistically" to appear together in a sentence without coming to blows.

The fact is - and it is fact in very deed, although not at all widely known about and oftentimes viewed with scorn when revealed - that we have an advocate and redeemer in the form of the Lord Jesus Christ, who, when he walked among us as a man, showed time and time again that he could heal any illness and even raise the dead. He no longer walks the streets or fields, but the angels are among us and the will of the Lord will always be done, so we can ask Him for healing in prayer and abject humility, as befitting the King of Kings, as we are commanded.

So these day's I never talk of terminal this or incurable the other.

Let us praise the Almighty and place our trust in Him.

Hallelujah

Love in the Bible

From the 1537 Matthews' Bible, I Corinthians, 13

Though I speake with tounges of men and angels, and yet had no loue, I were euen as soundinge brasse, or as a tynklinge Cimbal.
And though I could prophecye, and vnderstande all secretes, and all knowledge: yea, yf I had all fayth so that I coulde moue mountaines out of theyr places, and yet had no loue, I were nothing.
And thought I bestowed all my goodes to fede the pore, and though I gaue my bodye euen that I burned, and yet had no loue, it profeteth me nothinge.
Loue suffreth longe, and is curteous. Loue enuieth not. Loue doth not frowardelye, swelleth not, dealeth not dishonestlye,
seketh not her owne, is not prouoketh to anger, thinketh not euil,
reioiceth not in iniquitie: but reioiseth in the trueth,
suffreth all thinge, beleueth all thinges, hopeth al thinges, endureth in all thinges.
Though that propheciynge fayle, other tounges shall cease, or knowledge vanishe awaye, yet loue falleth neuer awaye.
For oure knowledge is vnperfect, & oure prophesiynge is vnperfecte.
But when that which is perfect, is come: then that which is vnperfect, shal be done awaye:
When I was a child, I spake as a chylde, I vnderstode as a child, I Imagined as a chylde. But assone as I was a man, I put away childishnes.
Nowe we se in a glasse euen in a darke speakinge, but then shall we se face to face. Nowe I knowe vnperfectlye, but then shall I knowe euen as I am knowen.
Nowe abideth fayth, hope, and loue, euen these thre: but the chiefe of these is loue.

Vibratory Action

Due to the vibratory action of my washing machine, my breadboard has wriggled between it and the worksurface in the space it calls home, and ultimately, due to my ham-fisted attempts to retrieve it, fallen down behind this built-in appliance. It is a major incident and a crew (currently on a break) has been assigned to resolving it.

Windows onto the unreal

This morning Windows offers me a few tips:

Watch your content come alive
Insert animated 3D graphics, and watch hearts beat, planets orbit, and T-rex rampage across the screen.

There's no exclamation mark at the end of this fun-packed little sentence, so we must be grateful for small mercies, but it's interesting to note that the three examples of things that will make my content come alive are all deceptive:

"watch hearts beat"
The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?

The heart is not the source of life or even the seat of love

"planets orbit"
Hast thou with him spread out the sky, which is strong, and as a molten looking glass?

There are no planets, just stars in the firmament. Nothing is orbiting; the host of heaven rotates above us.

"T-rex rampage"
O Timothy, keep that which is committed to thy trust, avoiding profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called

All science concerning dinosaurs, including the Tyrannosaurus rex, which was invented in the early 20th century, is nothing more than Babylonian fakery.

Here's an idea: instead of watching our content come alive by copying the tactics of Hollywood, we could just attempt to write clear, incisive and, if the Lord will allow, beautiful prose... Prod included.

An Eulogy at my father's funeral

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players
They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.

Dad liked to recite this soliloquy, which he had committed to memory at school and then, typically, kept with him for more than eighty years like a well worn pocket knife. I think he believed it, and that's probably why it stuck with him. 

He was an exceptionally reliable man - diligent and thorough in every endeavour. He invested his time and money wisely, and he has provided very handsomely for his heirs, something for which, I think I can speak on behalf of all, we are most grateful.

Our father planned meticulously, taking care of mum for many years by treating the kitchen as a laboratory in the paint factory and preparing food in accordance with carefully compiled formulas.

He was a stoic, never complaining at his lot even when our older sister and his beloved daughter Alison passed away so unexpectedly and tragically at a young age. He was deeply wounded, but it took a keen eye to see it.

He was an exceptional man in that he existed in a cerebral sphere that is outside the ordinary. It is of course an exaggeration to say that he considered people to be dynamic expressions of electrochemical phenomena, but his extreme rationality and philosophical materialism certainly led him in that direction.

Dad was a creative man, forever making bookcases, models, tables, a guitar case, and anything for which a need was expressed, also for neighbours and community functions when he was given the chance. Carole found a painstakingly engineered foam padded box with bespoke hinges and aluminium fastening mechanism designed to accommodate a "photographic timer" according to the label.
Apart from his handicraft and homemade country wines , he also had something of a thespian spirit, and never drew back from an opportunity to tread the boards. Although I didn't follow his acting career personally, the photographs suggest that comedy was his preferred genre. He certainly had the ability to raise a laugh, and he was entertaining the paramedics, nurses and doctors even in the last month of his life.

He was a mainstay and point of reference, and perhaps not just for his immediate family, to whom he was a true patriarch although in the vesture of a modern and enlightened man.

He was not, however, enlightened by the Words of the Holy Bible, a Book that he made a point of avoiding despite having three copies on the shelf by his chair. He did however once suffer me to read these few verses from Ecclesiastes without reporting any particular harmful effects afterwards:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Dad's beloved verses from As You Like It reach a grim conclusion: "the Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion;"

but Dad cheated Shakespeare's finale because he retained his wits until the very end. As for the oblivion, we shall have to wait and see.