The Blog of Pastor Mike Wilkins
In The Long Run
"The long run" referred to in the title of this blog is, in the first place, the many years Mike Wilkins served as West London's solo pastor, and then its Senior Pastor, since he and his wife Deb moved to London (and this church) in 1984.
In these past few years (beginning November 2011,) Mike's various health challenges, particularly a serious and ongoing case of cancer, has added another layer to the "long run" metaphor, and lots to blog about. Mike is currently on an extended Sick Leave, but generally worships with the church family on Sunday mornings.
With the publication of a book he wrote in 2016 entitled "Glory in the Face" (now available electronically and in paperback from Amazon.ca, and other online venders), Mike has just launched a new website, which will serve as a sort of scrapbook for readers of the book, with relevant background photos, for example, of That Last Final Solo Canoe Trip in May, 2011, as well as additional information about the book, and--coming soon--a new set of blog posts, mostly about the peace of God and the joy of the Lord and the face of Christ and the strength to face anything. You'll find the new website now at www.gloryintheface.com.
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This is a sequel to the entry posted November 21, 2011 ("A Gnarly Bit of Skull Surgery") in which I explained that I was scheduled for surgery in December.
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I used to sometimes say, "Of all the things I have loved and lost, I miss my hair the most." It might still be true.
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The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." As the time of my convalescence comes to an end, I remember my previous personal experience of a similar sort. I was 16 years old and about to have the plaster of paris cast finally removed from my right leg, which I had broken quite badly (or quite well, depending on your point of view). For about 12 weeks, I had endured the profound inconvenience of walking with crutches. And then the cast was off and I began to experience once again the extreme delights which I had never learned to think of as delights until I had (temporarily) lost them.
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Many years ago, when it was my great ambition to become a Professor of English Renaissance Literature, and to lecture at some charming Canadian university (with leather patches on the elbows of my corduroy jacket, of course), my Three Dead Men (that is, my three non-living role models) were John Milton, John Donne and George Herbert: to me, the Christian good guys in the world of English Renaissance poetry.
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Just so you know, my surgery is scheduled for Wednesday, December 14 and will begin at 9:00 a.m. The surgeons have told me that it will be at least three hours in duration, and maybe more like six. (I will tell them that I am in no real rush, and that I would actually prefer them to take their time.)
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Just about a year ago I went shopping for a new pair of glasses and learned from my optometrist that my peripheral vision was only impressive in a bad way. Two trips to an eye specialist established that my eyes were not suffering from either of the diseases that the optometrist helpfully first suspected. That good news got me an appointment at a second specialist...
