It’s funny how life unfolds. How you adjust. Having made all the small necessary changes you felt directed to make, you took the leap from solid ground. You free- fell. Then before you knew it, you were not falling at all. Rather you found yourself swinging over a gorge that was wide and deep. The rope holder lassoed you. He caught you before you plummeted down. You had no idea what came next and the only thing that you feared now was that maybe you shouldn’t have jumped at all.
Through the months that passed, you discovered that you were okay in this new kind of limbo. You grew accustomed to not having solid ground beneath your feet. You had been on the swing before, hanging on to life with the tightest grip. You held on when the summer sun burned you. You held on as you watched every autumn leaf fall. You held on through the bitterness of winter. You held on with such hope through the spring rain. When you thought you had no strength left, somehow you managed to keep going and you imagined what it would be like to go back to the way life was before.
No one told you how hard it would be to go back. You thought nothing could be harder than this. The memory of how good life used to be gave you coloured pictures to look at and they helped you imagine that you would return. There was no colour in the cancer ward – everything was sepia and aged. You were terrified that you would be swallowed up in that place but you didn’t acknowledge this then. Instead you trained your imagination and dreamed impossible dreams.
You dreamt that new life would come and slowly, surely, it did. You returned as best you could to the life that you used to know; but somehow your shape had changed like a piece of weathered timber and you didn’t fit anymore. So now you hang between the land that was once familiar and the land that is yet to come. You’re beginning to wonder if it is almost time to make the pendulum swing so that you can land on the other side. You’ve examined the terrain below from your vantage point and you can’t quite make out the details of the landscape. You hear distant music from the valley below, and from above you hear the rope holder laughing.
“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great unsearchable things,” He says as you enquire about the music.
Suddenly you are in the valley and He shows you a circle of children playing pass the parcel. When the music stops, the child who holds the parcel peels off a layer of newsprint to discover a gift just for them. The mound of newspaper grows higher in the centre of the circle and the parcel being passed gets smaller and smaller. As you watch you realise that no one misses out. There is a prize for each child.
“Just keep waiting, your turn’s going to come,” whispers the rope holder. Suddenly you are up again, swinging over the gorge and the edge of the new land seems closer than before.
“All things work together for good for those who love me, who’ve I’ve called according to my purpose,” He says.
“I think I’m almost ready to let go of this rope,” you respond and you feel the momentum of the rope as it begins to swing. Something good is about to happen. A dream is about to materialise.
…And as I prepare to post this blog entry, Sam enters wearing this: