Vapors, Mud Pies, and the Terminal Terminus

That’ll teach me to keep my trap shut, won’t it? Just the other morning, I was throwing down the gauntlet with all my big proclamations, only to find myself mid afternoon doing frantic circuits of the Belfast City Hospital car parks. I finally spotted one tiny gap in the multi-story—a space so tight it would’ve tested the patience of a saint! Despite being there thirty minutes early, I was getting myself all worked up and rushing about, completely forgetting that the Lord holds our time in His hands. As I was squeezing in, every sensor in the car was screaming at me before a final thump and that lovely scraping sound. It felt like that "still small voice" checking if I was still full of praises now! Time to break out the emergency scriptures; Proverbs 24:16 fits the bill perfectly: "For the righteous falls seven times and rises again..."

By the time I reached the reception desk, I could hardly catch my breath and stood there panting—and you know that exact look they give you, as if you’re not quite a full shilling. Never mind being past my "best before" date; by the time I navigated the corridors to where I needed to be, I was fairly convinced I’d passed my expiry date altogether!

Only to be met by—and I’m genuinely starting to wonder if they’ve perfected human cloning nowadays—that identical, practiced smile and that special look reserved strictly for those of us deemed less fortunate.

"Shur, you know yerself how busy we get," came the line.

Wanting to blend in and not be marked as a blow-in, I gave them the standard response: "Shur, that'll be grand."

All that rushing, only to be told they were running behind schedule and I’d have to wait anyway! Then, just for a bonus, Google Maps decided to take me on a scenic mystery tour on the drive home.

When I finally saw him, the consultant gave me his prognosis, and I honestly had to translate it back to him just to put the man at ease. I told him in plain English that my body is fair shook! Being "multi-lingual" in my own way, I have plenty of words for it: I’m banjaxed, jiggered, fagged out, or, as my Romani mates would say, paggered. Trying to dictate all this through speech-to-text is a proper battle; if the wife saw the initial drafts, she’d swear I was speaking in tongues!

It’s almost funny seeing how doctors navigate these difficult moments. One chap was so tender, asking, "Do you realize how sick you are?" before producing the DNACPR forms. This latest consultant was tiptoeing around, trying to find the right words for a hard truth. He explained that my system just couldn’t handle the multi-disciplinary procedure required—a massive job involving two surgeons for the main op and a plastic surgeon to rebuild my stomach wall. I had to inject a bit of my own wit just to break the ice (pun intended).

Between the COPD and a doctor warning me that I likely wouldn't survive another bout of sepsis, even with the surgery risks, it looks like a no-win situation in the world's eyes. I’ve noticed over the years how some folk get a grim report, clutch it to their chest, and are gone in six months. Now, don’t get me wrong—doctors are a Godsend—but through every brush I’ve had with death, I’ve learned that the final word belongs solely to the Lord. Like the old song says, you just have to take it to the Lord in prayer.

I’m not sharing this to throw a pity party or be treated like a "poor wee dote". But if you feel sorry for me, just humour me and read my posts!

"Thou didst say, Woe is me now! for the Lord hath added grief to my sorrow; I fainted in my sighing, and I find no rest. Thus shalt thou say unto him, The Lord saith thus; Behold, that which I have built will I break down, and that which I have planted I will pluck up, even this whole land. And seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them not: for, behold, I will bring evil upon all flesh, saith the Lord: but thy life will I give unto thee for a prey in all places whither thou goest."

— Jeremiah 45:3–5 (KJV)

A mate reminded me of King Hezekiah recently—he was granted an extra 15 years, but he messed up big time during that bonus time. Extra time requires real humility. Six years ago, I got my own extension on the lease for life—a King Hezekiah special. That leaves me with nine years left on the clock.

Now, folk often talk about the number seven in the Bible, but nine carries its own heavy weight. In Scripture, nine is widely recognized as the symbol of finality, completeness, and judgment. It’s the end of a cycle, pointing directly to the terminal terminus—that ultimate gathering place where the vapor settles, judgment comes, and this life yields to the next. If I’m living in season nine, there’s no time to waste on nonsense.

Dopamine, dopamine. Just watch the screen.

Closed eyes, mud pies, and Satan's lies.

Which makes it all the more mind-boggling to see what modern culture decides to do with its own tiny puff of smoke. Scripture reminds us in James 4:14 that our lives are “even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.” Instead of using our brief vapor to seek ultimate truth or finish the race, we’ve decided to blow it all into the digital void—one 15-second swipe at a time.

In 1941, C.S. Lewis famously wrote that humanity was "far too easily pleased," content to make mud pies in a slum because we couldn't comprehend an offer of a holiday at the sea. If Lewis were alive today, he’d see we haven't just stayed in the slum; we’ve built a high-tech, multi-billion-dollar machine inside it. The Romans called it bread and circuses—keep the masses distracted so they don't think too deeply about life, death, or ultimate purpose. Modern tech just digitized the arena, compressing Lewis’s "mud pies" into hyper-optimized TikTok Shorts designed to keep teenagers hooked in a perpetual loop of cheap dopamine. Just give them their bread and circuses, and keep them scrolling into the pit.

• The Biblical Reality: Life is a vapor—a short, precious window of divine completion to connect with our Creator, run the race, and focus on things that endure forever.

• The Modern Circus: Teenagers (and plenty of adults) spending hours tossing their precious, vanishing vapor into a pit of short-form reels, chasing artificial views, likes, and digital noise.

It’s a bizarre trade-off. Consultants can tiptoe around brutal medical truths, and eternity sits waiting right around the corner. Yet the highest ambition of modern technology is keeping a kid glued to a screen for three more seconds before the next ad rolls.

Honestly, the spiritual place I’m in right now, I wouldn't swap for anything. If this health trial is the road I had to take to get here, fair dos. These last few months have reminded me of that original "honeymoon period" when you first come to the Lord—that deep sense of being completely cleansed. You only really understand it if you've experienced it, and I know many of my brothers and sisters in Christ know that exact state of being. While some seem to run full steam ahead forever, others of us face times of weariness where the enemy—like the Amalekites—waits in the margins for the stragglers

I have a real urgency within me to finish the race set before me. But because my head is a bit all over the place with everything going on, if I’m ever abrupt or use "hurty words," please forgive me in advance. I’m just cashing in ONE of my 70 times 7 forgiveness vouchers early!

If my body is fair shook and my own vapor is evaporating, at least my eyes are fixed on the sea—not on the mud pies or the circus floor. I’m standing in a season of nine, looking toward that terminal terminus with peace in my heart. Save your sympathy—I don't need a "poor wee dote" pity party. But if you’re feeling overly charitable, skip the heartfelt comments and just click the links—at least then the algorithm rewards us both for wasting five seconds of our fleeting earthly existence!

mark@doctrinematters.co.uk

Doctrine Matters

Jeremiah 6:16

“Thus saith the LORD, Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls. But they said, We will not walk therein.”

King James Version