Dear Pneuma,

If we move from beginning to end of life, we are travelling. We are journeying. We are on a path, a road, or a highway. Christ is that road. Christ is that journey. Christ is the shape that marks our passage, as well as the curves and switchbacks that lie before us. Christ is neither destination nor starting point, but is instead the place where our feet meet the contradiction that life is dying, and that death means we live.

Christ is the motion of foot before foot. Christ is the motion of stop to take bearings. Christ is the motion of refill the canteen, catch a breath of fresh air. Christ is the motion of turn back or refuse to go on. Christ is time spent waiting for friends to catch up. Christ is pushing through that last hill. Christ is putting a hand up for help, and dropping a rope down to another. Christ is not how we choose the way. Christ IS the way we've chosen.

Whether we go with confidence, fools with no plan, or whether we Google our pilgrimage and carry our GPS devices and cell phones, we are each walking Christ. The road only knows one way to go-life through death in God; whether we know it or not; whether we move intentionally or because we have been pushed; whether the trip is long and laid back, or short, brutish and hard.

It seems to me not so much that we should follow the Way, but that we try and seek out the most excellent Way: a path that leaves behind a trail of light; that, every now and again, takes the direct route through thorns; a journey of discovery and joy, ever watchful for small things hidden in the grass, because this life is the chance we have-not to reach the mountain top, but merely to walk the mountain.

Thanks for listening,

Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

I would like to weigh in on health care systems here in this United States. Today, I feel a great frustration with health care systems-not because of health insurance; not because they aren't competent; not even because they cost too much. Today, my frustration is with the fact that health care systems do not exist to care for individual people.

For the last few months, I have had some struggles with equipment-machinery and supplies on which I rely to maintain quality and length of life. Today, finally reaching the conclusion that the particular problems are beyond my ability to fix or adjust, I found that I have to make multiple phone calls, mail in the part that is possibly defective, make at least one appointment with a health care official (M-Th appointments only) just in case I am the defective part, and possibly pursue a new prescription simply to change back to a different set of supplies. I add, as well, a time constraint, because I need my equipment to be in working order before the end of the month, and if I intend to order new equipment, it will take 7-10 business days to arrive.

I feel frustrated because the system controls my care, but cannot respond flexibly to my individual needs. I cannot simply purchase the other set of supplies. I cannot simply say, this isn't working for me and I would like to return your product for a partial refund. Instead, every option has to be filtered through a system of clinics, insurance companies and product manufacturers, none of whom actually care whether I use product A or product B.

This is especially obnoxious to me because my situation is chronic. I will not wake up tomorrow without my disease. The lack of control I have in this particular instance is very humbling. It rankles to give up my autonomy. It rankles more to give that autonomy over to a system of regulations that does not have to make it through today with the concerns I carry.

Frustrated, but I'll get over it,

Cobalt Dreams