Scootering

Scootering

Tuesday, 8 November 2016

In Control

It is taking me slightly longer to get back into routine in this last cycle of chemo. A bit of insomnia at the beginning followed by binge sleeping over the next couple of days. In between, is the lethargy. I resorted to Netflix to provide my brain with the much needed stimulation. I paced myself, 2 to 3 episodes of The Crown over the last few days. I am not entirely sure how much of the script is factual but there was enough history weaved into the story for me to feel I was watching something important. And if you forget everything else, you will still be left with an overwhelming sense of duty over self. Claire Foy was masterful in her portrayal of the young Queen trying to find her footing as the sovereign in the fast changing post-war Britain society. She sought the find the balance between being herself and being the Queen.

I particularly enjoyed John Lithgow's rendition of Churchill. One of the series' sub-plots was how Churchill dealt with his waning popularity even though the Conservative Party had regained power in the 1951 General Elections. The man who had led Britain to victory against Nazi Hitler was portrayed as a man who had lost his spark and lacked the focus to deal with the domestic economic issues facing Britain. 

In one episode, Lithgow's Churchill came face to face with his own mortality as he confronted Graham Sutherland, who had painted a full-length portrait of him. It was commission by the two Houses to commemorate Churchill's 80th birthday. Churchill hated the portrait and later summoned Sutherland to his home in Chartwell for a dress down. He poured out his contempt onto the artist for portraying him as "a broken, sagging, pitiful creature" and that it was "cruel". To which Sutherland responded "Age is cruel! If you see decay, it's because there's decay. If you see frailty, it's because there's frailty. I can't be blamed for what is. And I refuse to hide and disguise what I see. If you're engaged in a fight with something, then it's not with me. It is with your own blindness."

Yesterday morning, I nudged myself to go for a morning walk after dropping my daughter off at the kindergarten. I decided to visit St George's Church in Tanglin. We often drive by this wonderful Anglican church on the way to Dempsey Hill and I've always wanted to visit. I was the only one there at that time of the morning. I sat down to say a quiet prayer and thank God for getting me through the last few months. I read from Isaiah 45 and was reminded that everything is in God's sovereign hands even when it is incomprehensible to the human mind. And as if to answer the question of how I should view each day going forward, I saw the words taken from John 16:33 on the stained glass window "Be of Good Cheer, I Have Overcome the World".

My apologies if this blogpost is all over the place - Netflix, The Crown, Lithgow's Churchill and my visit to a church. It may well be a form of madness to see patterns where they don't exist! How I would sum it up is this - we spend a lot of energy and effort to make our lives work. Whether it is a call of duty or whether mixed in there somewhere is our difficulty in letting go. Sometimes it is just a matter of survival, fighting an illness or waning popularity or both. Or pushing back the thoughts of ageing and the frailty that comes with it. After so much of your life has been expended, and you don't feel like there is much more you can afford to give, what happens? Can you afford to let go and will it turn cruel?

I think we need to see life for what it is, and God for who He is, and rest upon the assurance of the work He has already done on the cross for us.


When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most, 
I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

~ When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, Isaac Watts

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