A Few Concerns

The wind has begun already this morning, branches swaying in its push. By mid-day, they say, gust will be in the forties and the temperature close to seventy. With the tumblings of trash and the thrashings of limbs, I am thinking about such things as this:

This morning, Frank will have two stents placed in or near his heart.
This evening, Bobby will have an MRI that will help the doctors decide whether or not to amputate his legs.
Rusty is trying to recover from surgery to remove a blood clot from his lungs.
F. N. got conflicting information from two specialists at the same office regarding the probability of cancer’s return, the likelihood of serious side effects from radiation therapy, and what the odds are that the weeks of radiation will prevent the cancer from resurging.
Libby will have eight hours of surgery on Friday that may prevent the necessity of having spinal fusion. She is thirteen.

In all of this and more, I remember that we live in a fallen world, a world of pain, disease, affliction and death. I remember that the power of faith, often expressed in prayer, is remarkable and inexplicable. I remember that the God of the Storm has promised that I will be able to bear every burden, every test, every temptation.

And, perhaps not at all the least, I remember that the curse of this body and the prison of this flesh are only for a little while.

H. Arnett


About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Blair, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-five years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-one grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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