The Past is Another Country - and a Flareup - Right leg

At this time of year getting together with family, we find ourselves talking about the past, so I thought I would end the year with this old photo of my parents wedding.  My granny is there, my aunt Jo, my uncles - so young.  The war is only just over as you see from the uniforms.

All gone now - the Nabbs family.  But not forgotten.  

My hope of course is that they are not forgotten by their Creator, Jehovah, because if so I will see them again when the time comes for the resurrection. Well, I will IF I am there of course...

The family get togethers are important, but everything is so Christmasified - even Bargain Hunt, which we watch every lunchtime.  And I was surprised to hear, via Bargain Hunt, in its short educational interlude, how little Christmas was celebrated here in the UK until Dickens wrote his best-selling "Christmas Carol".   And yet now the whole business has reached hysteria pitch.

I found this in cyberspace, which, if correct, tells us that it was celebrated here until the ban in the 17th century, and presumably did not reappear as a national celebration until the 19th century:   

"Three hundred and seventy years ago, between 1645 and 1660, Parliamentarians completely outlawed Christmas. The Government imposed a festive vacuum each December which was underpinned by the Puritan belief that the Catholic celebration was a sinful extravagance fuelled by immorality. "

I certainly believe it is not a Christian celebration but, as a Christian, I also believe I have no right to impose my views on others.

I have had such a painful 48 hours - starting with a dramatic stomach upset on Tuesday morning, turning into a violent arthritis flare-up - right leg - which has left me barely able to walk.   After a night of pain, no sleep, and disturbing Captain B to help me totter slowly and painfully to the loo, I gave in and took two of my superstrength painkillers - for emergencies - with a bowl of cereal - on Wednesday morning.

While I am still in a lot of what hospitals call "discomfort", I am now able to totter, slowly and painfully, to the loo without having to cling to Captain B all the way.  And I am now suffering from the side effects of the painkillers.

Oh dear, oh dear.   

It seems a bit of a sad way to end 2022 with such a bad flare up, but I need to remember that I haven't had one like this for over a year and be grateful for that. And to remember the hope for better health - perfect health in fact - that lies ahead of us.

Appropriately, out first  study article for 2023 is: Keep Your Christian Hope Strong.  It can be found on the website JW.org if anyone would like to read it.

And perfect health is something that we, the damaged children of disobedient Adam, have never yet known.  So how wonderful will it be?  I guess we can't imagine.