Dear Friends and Family:
"I'm here!! Don't pay the ransom!" Actually I've been here the whole time, but have fallen into some unexplainable lethargy. I get up late, eat a little, wander about the house aimlessly, fall back into bed for another hour or so. No pain; nothing really wrong with me, except that I have no oomph to accomplish anything.
"So what's wrong with that?" you ask. "If that's all you have to do, then that's all you have to do. Take it easy."
Well, that's not I have to do, but that's about all I'm allowed to do. If I do go outside, I see all the things in the yard and garden that need attention...but I'm not supposed to be in the sun or play in the dirt (pollens and bacteria). I can take walks or ride my bike, but that's circular...like a critter in a hampster run. I have in my mind lots of things to do, but I can't do them.
I'm mindful of a book by the Russian author Goncharov entitled "Oblamov." (There was a term created for such a man and his condition: "Oblamovism.") Oblamov was the pampered son of a wealthy land owner. He moved to the big city and was accustomed to the life of an aristocrat: he got up late, was fed and dressed by a servant, and only thought about what he should do in regard to the estate he eventually inherited. The first 140 pages of the book describe Oblamov's attempt to get out of bed (around 11a.m.) whilst pondering what to do about the report that he finally got around to reading. His estate manager was stealing him blind. While Oblamov mentally debates alternatives, he eventually sits up in bed and swings his feet over the side; his right foot searches for and eventually finds its slipper; more mental debate; left foot searches about, locates its slipper, begins scrunching into it...more debate...more scrunching...more debate...less scrunching...mental fatigue...no scrunching..."oh well, there's tomorrow"...one foot now free of its slipper, then both feet unfettered...and fall back into bed!!! I was going nuts as I tried to read this book! "Get your lazy @!#$#! out of bed!!
The upshot of the book is that Oblamov's German friend, who is a real type-A, eventually gets him out of bed, into the social stream, introduces him to a beautiful young lady, and now Oblamov's turning and burning, getting up about 6:30, to the great distress of his man-servant. About page 600, however, he's won the lady's heart and he begins to think about marriage; he starts pondering the implications and responsibilities of marriage and starts getting up later. As the rousings go from 7:30 to 8:30 to 9:30, my mind is screaming, "Oh no! Don't do that! GET UP!"
And Oblamov eventually returns to his former condition, only at the end of the book (page 700+), he has married his shapless former housekeeper who is content to let him sleep all day. The German friend marries the beautiful lady and is very successful in every venture. And after slugging my way through the wretched book, Dick Grant never took another nap for about the next two years!!!
In contrast to that, as I seem to sleep many times during the day, I have to remind myself, I am a "human being," not a "human doing." There are times when it is my job to "abide," not to "accomplish." In my waiting upon Him, God will accomplish what needs to be done.
And He has been doing that. Last week's report from the doctor was both good news and not so good. All my test results are very encouraging. I doing great! What is discouraging to me is that I had hoped to get out and about in time for the men's retreat the 1st of October, the clergy conference a week or so later, and some neat things at the cathedral thereabouts. The truth is that my liberation date is not until day #100 from the transplant, and that is not until November 13. Phoooey!
I shall endevor to pull up out of this dip into Oblamovism and at least do this post more reliably. Thanks for your continued prayers and well wishes!
Faithfully in Christ,
Dick
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