December 2, 2008
Without snow, the scene at Sanctuary is muted. The deer, pheasant and quail are all quiet and watchful since the hunting season has arrived, so squirrels, bluejays, cardinals, cedar waxwings, juncos, and various woodpeckers get the most attention. The sharp-shinned hawk comes to sit very quietly upon the arbor, perhaps pretending to be a large branch, who knows, but apparently the smaller birds have yet to be fooled into rash inattention, and upon those occasions, there is no motion to be seen anywhere until the hawk flies on.
Our trip to Chicago was completely satisfying, with no residue illness and high marks for “the mask”. It is not quite as severe as the one which John-paul depicted in such a splendid manner, but rather it clamps over the nose and mouth keeping out 99% of germs. While at the concert, there was a young woman sitting directly behind me who was coughing, sniffing and hacking and remarking to her companion that she really didn’t feel all that well; without the mask in place, I likely would have turned to stone in fear of contracting anything more than already had taken up residence in the lungs. Now, on this day in early December, I look ahead to a Cat Scan of the lungs tomorrow, to establish whether the antibiotic is working. I feel that it is, since my breathing and voice have been better recently. Later on in the month, it is back to the oncologist. . . the blood readings show that soon I will be into “bullet biting” and making some choices re. more chemotherapy. (I looked up “bite the bullet” as a phrase, and it goes back to soldiers having limb amputation, for example, before there was anesthetics. They were given a bullet to bite on as they endured the procedure. . . I feel fortunate that my experience will not require such extreme measures.)
Advent has come with its beautiful music and myriad preparations. Since these songs haven’t joined the sound assault of endless commercial renditions of the once beloved Christmas carols, the Advent hymns can still present lovely words and melodies without having to pass through the loudspeakers and torturous tinsel tones of mall music. Charles played his setting of “Come, O Long-Expected Jesus” on Sunday, and it was a wonderful beginning to a wonderful season.
“Come, O long-expected Jesus, born to set your people free;
from our fears and sins release us by your death on Calvary.
Israel’s strength and consolation, hope to all the earth impart,
Dear desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart.
Born your people to deliver, Born a child and yet a king.
Born to reign in us forever, Now your gracious kingdom bring.
By your own eternal Spirit rule in all our hearts alone;
By your all-sufficient merit raise us to your glorious throne”.