Sometimes I wake up and I sing; and then I say:
"This is the day the Lord has made." 
And I rejoice in it, and I am glad.
Other times I wake up and I weep.  Then I say:
"There are too many terrible things in the world.
Too many things that can't be explained away."
Then I am full of doubt and fear,
And I feel abandoned and profoundly sad.
Sometimes I look at grass and leaves and all green life;
Then I see God's gift of light as the foundation of my life:
Sun-soaking factories that transform solar energy into me.
But then I see the sundew offering sweet nectar,
To lure insects to a stinging death; and the Venus fly-trap,
Closing death around its victims like a green iron maiden.
Should I not care for what insects may suffer and feel as they die?
Shakespeare surmised: "The lowly beetle that we trod upon,
In its death, feels a pang as great as a giant's."
Everywhere in nature, I look and see
Living things that want to live, and have to flee
Other living things that want to kill them.
I have to wonder why
This predator-and-prey pursuit, capture, and killing,
Happens under heaven's watchful eye.
I find it bone-chilling. 
Yes, the miracle of a new-born baby's cry
Makes me know why I can never disbelieve.
Yet, when I see a new-born baby die--
Inexplicably--
As happened to poor little Philip, two of my friends' new baby son--
They called him "our little porpoise" because of the sounds he gurgled--
My heart cannot look away, and simply say: "Thy will be done."
My moods swing, and my perspectives vary.
And, for me, the bitterest of all,
Is that now I have to recall
The slow torturous death that my precious best friend Brian suffered;
The deadly ascites fluid build-up, so painful, negligently left undrained;
The last six days of his life, hungry and thirsty, forbidden to eat or drink;
Then, when his blood pressure fell,
How they pumped him suddenly too full of chemical, and raised
His blood pressure over 200--
When they saw me writing down the climbing figures,
They shut the monitor off--
I saw blood pour out of his ears and stream from his nose.
The most trust-worthy, steadfast, faithful, truest friend,
The most life-joyful, life-loving, and most grateful spirit,
The most gentle, child-like innocent, open-hearted, trusting, good-willed,
Kind, caring, loving, compassionate, tender, sensitive soul,
That I was ever privileged to meet and know.
The doctor made him, not their free patient, but their forced prisoner--
 Refusing requests to transfer him to the VA--for twelve days of hell.
He robbed Brian of however much future he had left to live and enjoy.
He stole Brian's proper ending, the caring, love-surrounded hospice
That I had set up for him in advance, to prevent pain and to comfort fear.
My precious friend, who had so much faith in God,
And who loved the Lord,
Died so brutally, so horribly, so painfully, so fearfully--
The worst of his times; and my life's most terrible, horrible time--
For I was there--and I had to see it all.
They acted on orders; one man bears gross guilt of this inhumane crime.
My mood sinks deeper than despair, when all of that nightmare I recall.
But then, I remember my friend always praying, before every meal:
"Thank You, Lord, for this food. 
Thank You for providing the money for it.
And thank You for my friendship with Michael."
So now I pray the same,
Only I change to Brian the thanked-for name.
I lean on Brian's faith now,
Hoping and praying there is an answer
Why the blessing of life should ever have to suffer the curse of cancer.
And why my dearest, Lord-loving, God-faithful, believing, trusting friend,
Was allowed to suffer so much, and come to such a terrible end.
But still I hope, and I pray every day,
Because Brian's faith and love still light my way.

==============================
Written by Michael LP, aka MLP
Written on Tuesday, April 19, 2011  3:02 pm PDT
79 degrees F.  Humidity: 19%  Forecast: overcast
Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael LP.  All rights reserved.