Waiting for June … 11?

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

Waiting for June … 11?

(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)

Monday morning. Our eye appointments went well. I didn’t move very quickly, an inch at a time. Everyone helped me. Dr. Odette suggested a couple of tweaks for Margaret and me and reminded us of Solomon’s poetic description of our senses as we age.

Remember your Creator
in the days of your youth,
before the days of trouble come
and the years approach when you will say,
“I find no pleasure in them”—
 before the sun and the light
and the moon and the stars grow dark,
and the clouds return after the rain;
 when the keepers of the house tremble,
and the strong men stoop,
when the grinders cease because they are few,
and those looking through the windows grow dim;

 when the doors to the street are closed
and the sound of grinding fades;
when people rise up at the sound of birds,
but all their songs grow faint;
⁵ when people are afraid of heights
and of dangers in the streets;
when the almond tree blossoms
and the grasshopper drags itself along
and desire no longer is stirred.

We do what we can. Wimber said to his Vineyard congregation, “Please don’t pray against aging. God gives aging to us, fallen men and women, as a gift.” Remember God’s words at the gates of Eden, “Don’t let them back in, lest they eat of the Tree of Life and live forever.”

Forever in sin, that is. Forever in despair. Forever living … in death.

Paul said, “Whatever does not proceed from faith … is sin.”

Sin’s a Christian word. What Paul means is that if we try to figure this out for ourselves and refuse the guidance of God who made us, if we live our lives with self-confidence but no faith …

But either way in time our teeth fall out, our eyes get cloudy, our hearing fails, we might have neuropathy in our feet (like me) and even our taste and smell might be sent askew. Please don’t ask God to help you live forever!

Still … my dentist friend’s dad, himself an oral surgeon for decades in Wichita Falls,  depressed at 98 and tired of life, soaked his face in watermelon juice Saturday night. He slurped, he swallowed, he smiled. O taste and see. Just don’t expect either of those senses to be the same at 98, or 76, or 66 that they were when we were 9 or 19 or 29. Sometimes, actually, those precious moments with watermelon are better than anything when I was 29.

No problem. Unless I make it one.

Same is true of quadruple bypass surgery, although that’s kind of a big jump for any of us. Opening the chest and repairing so much at once is something only Native American shamans used to do, but now cardiac surgeons take it on every day. On Monday we met Josh Grimm, a very “vivacious” enneagram 7 (I think), who loves life, has three kids, gave us his cell phone # in case our own kids want to call and talk. In the context of what he knew needed to happen, he gave me lots of space.

No one can take you of your Father’s hand, Jesus said … Jesus says … Jesus will always say.

Tomorrow I want to detail what “needs to happen,” but tonight I’m just happy to feel safe, feeling the God-with-skin-on that Dr. Grimm provides for me and many others. We waited awhile for him to see us, because the surgery he was assisting took longer than expected. Like …  he was busy saving someone’s life down there. His friendly confessional apology certainly belies his last name. “Just call me Josh,” he said.

The Lord is within me. My home is within you, says the Lord.

 (Acts 11, Psalm 87, John 10)

(posted at www.davesandel.net)

#