"I will praise Thee,for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Thy works;
that my soul knoweth right well." (Psalm 139:14)
I have thought about this verse a lot lately in relation to the Golden Years. My Dad used to say that the Golden Years were not all they were cracked up to be as health issues began to take over his life.
Lately I have had blood sugar, blood pressure, arthritis and other autoimmune issues. Not to mention the thyroid going bonkers and needing to be nuked, various and sundry cysts and lipomas. Well, I think you are getting the picture and that list goes on and on and on. Yep, we are fearfully and wonderfully made, now if I could just figure out what that really means to me. My latest discovery includes the list (pages and pages that the pharmacist nor MD seem to be aware of but my body sure is) of meds that make your blood sugar zoom upwards. Seems like many of my wonderful blood pressure meds are on that list. So, we fix the blood pressure only to have the blood sugar zip out of control and then you get “metabolic syndrome”, and it becomes even more tedious. I need some answers to all of this even if I have to “go figure” for myself.
I came to the conclusion that you do what you can with asking God for wisdom and then dialoging with your health care providers. After that you change your focus. The following is what I came up with.
THY HANDS FASHIONED AND MADE ME
I see another wrinkle
Around my eye
One more smile line?
The clocks ticking faster as the calendar counts
More gray hairs I find
Jogging's a drag
But my clothes don't fit
Even when I lose pound by pound
My crazy body's rearranged
What used to be up slipped down
New aches here and there
Which I never had
I could go on and on
But somehow I know there's more
Lord, You're not bound
By place, dimension
It surely isn't my earthly body
You're working to make Thine
'Cuz You've promised
In Your Word
Written in many a place
You'll give us glorified bodies
When we meet you face to face
The falling apart
that's taking a toll on me
To polish up my rough cut soul
And draw me closer to Thee
A complete creation, I wasn't at birth
Nor even at 53
Perhaps not until
Death comes around
To set your servant free
Thanks for helping me
Refocus in You
By knocking at my vanity
By destroying some of my self concern
You helped me look at Thee
"Thy hands fashioned and made me,
Now thou dost ....destroy me."
Thy servant Job wrote down.
All those many years ago,
I believe the key he found.
Sand me, buff me,
A faithful, loving servant
You'll greet at heaven's gate!
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(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with proper credits.
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