by Donna Poole
Late afternoon shadows lengthened; mama robins sang soft lullabies to babies cradled in nests, and all the world began gentling for the night. Twilight was E’s favorite time of the day. It was almost time for his evening walk.
Every evening E’s walking partner arrived. The two of them ambled along the backroads, talking over the day’s events, admiring the paintings in the sky, or sometimes walking in comfortable silence. E felt most himself on these walks, most understood, most at home. When they arrived back at E’s home and his walking partner left him and walked alone off into the distance, E always felt a pang of regret as he watched him go.
One day the two friends walked farther than they ever had before. E realized they were on an unfamiliar and strangely beautiful country road. The breeze caressing his face smelled sweet, like something from a half-forgotten dream. He’d never seen such a vibrant sunset, and when it faded the stars appeared so close E impulsively reached his hand up to touch them.
His walking partner laughed.
“We’ve walked a long way this time, and it’s getting late. We’re closer to my home than we are to yours now. Do you want to come home with me?”
E had never wanted anything more.
The Bible puts it this way, “And Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for God took him.” –Genesis 5:24
I think that’s one of the loveliest stories in the Bible. I’d love to go for a walk with God on our country road and just keep walking on to heaven, but not just yet.
I don’t know how close to heaven I am. We’d hoped to find my friend, NED, (No Evidence of Disease) in my recent PET scan, but he eluded us again. Morticia, my lymphoma lung tumor, is still active, although my radiation oncologist thinks she’s shrinking. He gives me a twenty percent chance still of living. On Thursday I’ll visit my chemotherapy oncologist and see if he thinks more chemo can possibly kill off stubborn Morticia, who has lived in my lung almost a year now, without paying a cent of rent, and has in general made a nuisance of herself.
Lest I be unfair to Morticia, she has given me some gifts too. One of them is an appreciation of every day I get to walk on this earth with God, my family, and my friends.
Despite how man has mishandled it, this earth is still incredibly lovely. We haven’t yet disfigured it beyond the point of being able to see in it the face of our Creator.
And isn’t life a breathtakingly wonderful yet fragile gift? Morticia tells me that every day. Each time I’ve done anything this last year I’ve been poignantly aware it may be the last time. That’s not a morbid way to live; it’s beautiful. It makes everything so deeply meaningful. I only wish I’d been aware of this gift years before Morticia handed it to me.
I want to leave precious memories for my loved ones, not so they remember me dying, but so they remember me living life fully and loving them unconditionally.
So, thank you, Morticia, for all that. And now that I have your gifts, you can leave. For good. I won’t miss you; I promise.
Tim McGraw sings, “Live like you were dying,” and it would be wonderful if we could only do that without a Morticia to remind us.
I want to stay here to see all my grandchildren grow up and my children grow old. I’d like to someday retire to a quiet little place with John. But when my time comes to die, I’d like to go when late afternoon shadows lengthen; mama robins sing soft lullabies to babies cradled in nests, and all the world begins gentling for the night. I’ll be waiting then for God to come walk me Home.
Dear Donna, when you are gone I will miss your stories, so I’m praying that Morticia will leave and you will be around for a long time to continue to write about yourself and the character of our loving Heavenly Father.
Donna, your stories always touch my heart. This one in particular really got to me, my friend. Walking one another home is something you taught me a while back and that thought has me much comfort 💗. Please continue your fight with Morticia and stay as long as you can with those of us who find such comfort, wisdom, and humor in your writings. I love you💗
Thank you, Sandra! God bless you and yours!
Donna, your stories always touch my heart. This one in particular really got to me, my friend. Walking one another home is something you taught me a while back and that thought has brought me much comfort 💗. Please continue your fight with Morticia and stay as long as you can with those of us who find such comfort, wisdom, and humor in your writings. I love you💗
Jean,
I love you too and enjoy walking home together! God bless you and yours!
My dear Fiend, Our journey together started long ago but so thankful we’re still on it. I love this Rambling. Twilight is my favorite time. Thank you for continued blessings and encouragement with your writing. Love to you both.
Karin,
We’ve been rambling the roads Home together for many years now. We send our love and gratitude to you and Pastor!
Lovely! We are all just a heartbeat from Heaven! God bless you and John.
I think “and all the world began gentling for the night” is one of the loveliest phrases I’ve heard. Thank you for writing this – it touched my heart. Praying for your good health and many many walks.
Jill,
I’m glad you found my blog and hope you return so we can ramble more backroads together. God bless you!
Love this!
Louise,
Thank you! God bless you and the good work you do.
That’s beautiful, Donna! How to appreciate each gift God gives us! Still praying for you my dear friend. Thank you for your kindness and your encouraging words. May our Lord give you a special blessing andmauyoufeelHis loving arms surround you!
Fred,
I love that thought, a heartbeat from Heaven! Won’t it be lovely! Our love to you and Rachel.
Gwenevere,
Thank you for your prayers for me and mine! God bless you and yours! Love!
Love you, Donna. Thanks for still writing and for sharing your heart. You are a special lady and I am so glad you have been in my life.
Ruthie, I love you and your family. What wonderful memories we share! I’m glad God let us meet so long ago.
Dear dear friend.. That’s what you’ve become to me although I haven’t me you as I love across the sea. But dear you are none the less… And this reading today though touched with sadness has within it HOPE too. I will be praying for you on thrurdsay…..be assured of that. I pray for you day and night…😊🙏
I was thinking today on how our heavenly Father hovers over His loved and His own. And HE hovers over you my precious, royal sister in Christ. Rest in Him tonight. Knowing HE LOVES YOU!
Jennifer,
I appreciate your prayers for me and mine! God bless you and your family!
Thank you for this beautiful perspective on living and someday going home. But I pray with you that it’s not time for you yet, and that God has more books for you to write.
Grace, thank you. I’m enjoying your book! God bless.
Walking is good exercise, an gives a person time to enjoy the creation. It also gives a person the ability to appreciate the care God has taken in showing them how to slowdown and smell the roses. Thank You for your rambling on.
Jake, thank you for taking time to ramble with me. God bless!
On that day, Donna, may He do just that…and for each of us who long for His appearing. Praying for you now.❤️
Valerie, thank you for your prayers! God bless!