In a world where love seems to have taken a back seat with many humans, I myself wish to give my love equally to whomever I encounter.
You aren’t a cookie, nor ice cream, nor a shiny new car… no no… you are much much more precious than any of those perishable objects!
You are priceless!
How would it make you feel if I were to spin up a list of my favorites, only to find out that you weren’t on that list? Or perhaps you might feel a bit sad to discover that you weren’t at the value number that you once thought you belonged.
Not that any of us has EVER had that happen, nor have we EVER accidentally demoted someone on our fav’s list, without meaning to do so.
My point is, this question is very impertinent… and quite frankly, nothing more than a fire starter. I refuse to answer stupid questions… just sayin!
Cookie?
Feel free to help yourself to whichever one is your favorite, but perhaps you might try a different one this morning, as they’re all someone’s favorite flavor.
After the grocery shopping debacle that morning, her good mood had soured and gained a downward run that she knew would not improve. Her shopping cart wheel had given out in just the right spot coming off of the curb in front of the store letting everything in it simply fly, full force, into a passing car in the parking lot.
After completely re-shopping, off of her crumpled receipt that had a piece of old chewing gum in it, she hurried home in an attempt to unload before her youngest child awoke from a very brief fake nap.
Driving home, the officer did not appreciate the narrative she reeled off as her excuse, giving her a speeding ticket anyway.
Once home, groceries unpacked and children playing, she tried to find solace in a piece of chocolate cake that she had reserved on top of the microwave the night before, only to discover that the cat had peed on the front of the microwave. And yes, she had already eaten the cake when she discovered this bit of information. It had been one of those days!
When she walked into the room to check on her children as they played, she was certain that she heard her 5-year-old say to her Barbie doll, “You #@*ch!”
In shocked horror, the stressed out young mother began to let loose with a scolding lecture regarding language. Looking up from the dollhouse in confusion, her daughter asked, “Mommy, if I can’t call this a bench, then what am I supposed to call it?”
Perspective!
I so want to go back to having the perspective and imagination of a child, without all the grown-up things that derail the good stuff.
That’s a perfect world, which this is not, but the beauty of the human soul is that it can learn, recover, forgive, and grow.
As soon as today’s prompt appeared on the screen, a song popped into my head, oddly, from something I’d seen the other day… but, for the life of me, I can’t remember where. What’s funny is that it seems a rather fitting answer to the question being asked. Well, sort of, anyway.
While it’s not fully what my personal response might be, I think the song was so popular (and probably still is) because it’s how many people feel, at some point in their lives.
Looking back from where I stand now, its glaringly obvious that I didn’t understand the reality of time, the way I do now. Probably, because I was busy being wild and free! Ahhh, the joyful ignorance of youth…
But, time itself, has a way of sneaking up on one… and then running them over, as it speeds past.
What I’ve come to discover is that no amount of needed, wanted, added, or borrowed time is fully used to its full potential…
I think we’re much better off using the time we have, instead of always dreaming and wishing for more…
at some point, that’s no longer going to be an option!
This should be so easy for us to organize and promote, OA’s (Overthinkers Anonymous members… you know who you are)!
Seeings as how we’re frequently up at all hours of the night, I feel confident that we could really make a go of this, don’t you? Come on guys, how about just this once, we agree about a thing, without taking all night to do it, please?
I know I don’t ask for things often, but this could be our moment to stand… to stand up and celebrate all those over-tired, over-worked, underpaid, unrecognized and/or simply stressed out members of society!
Hoping to save time in the decision making process, I’ve come up with a pretty fair quality title, along with a helpful slogan;
Owl Day!
We don’t care WHOOO you are
We’re just glad you DOOOO your part!
I’ve taken the liberty of selecting a few posters to choose from, and might I suggest we select a day in early January?
This would give us plenty of time to argue about the photos, and also gets us safely past all the New Years Resolutions we’ve no intention of keeping.
Not only do I not wish to do any re-living at this moment, but I wouldn’t wish any of my life on any other human being!
I hear so many folks talk of what they would do differently if they were to go back in time, but as much as I don’t want to go back… I also wouldn’t trade it for any amount of money!
The me that you see today is a priceless gem, cut from the hardest of stone. I am a blade made of iron, shaped through both fire and ice for tempering… I am a chosen child of God!
Has it been difficult, exhausting and painful, yes!
Have I had to walk through life as an outsider… an outcast? Yes! Most often, I am simply misunderstood by those that surround me.
Have I done any of this alone? Nope!
Whether good, bad or in between… all of it was foreseen by the one who knew of my very birth, before the foundations of the earth had ever come to be…
The path I now walk is a combination of many things, much of what I brought on myself along the way. By revisiting the old me, doing or saying a thing any different than I did the first time around, could possibly undo a lesson that was vitally necessary for my walk with God, at this moment in time. No thanks!
I love the me that I am now, so, as they say… There’s no going back, There’s no better time than the present, or even better yet,
“Therefore be ye also ready: for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh.” (Matt. 24:42–44.) May we heed this warning given by the Lord and get our houses in order and be prepared for the coming of the Lord.
I’ll not waste time looking back, but instead, I shall be ever watchful for His return. I think that is a far better idea, with far better rewards, than re-living any single moment of my earthly life.
You know how when trees bloom, you can barely see the branch from which all the blossoms grow? You become so captivated by the beauty and smell of the flowers, you hardly notice the actual branches.
I’ve decided that I want to be that branch!
You know why?
Branches need not worry about the tree from which they grow, nor whether the sun or rain nourishes the roots. They just trust the tree to feed them.
All of those beautiful blooms…they’re not there forever, but instead will live out their purpose and then float away on the wind.
But the branch, well, the branch just needs to make sure it stays connected to the tree. If the branch falls away, it’ll wither and die without the trees protection.
If the branch stays connected, and focuses only on becoming a better branch, then the next year it’ll be strong enough to produce even more of those beautiful blooms.
The branch doesn’t need to be seen for you to know that it’s still there, because it’s a part of the tree… it belongs to the tree. The world can simply enjoy seeing and smelling the beautiful blooms created from the tree, itself. The branch is meant to hold the flowers, not create them!
I have been sitting here, staring at my own idle fingers on the keyboard, and watching the little clock down in the corner of screen. It is now almost 7:30 am, and I have been sitting here since just before 5, but I have been awake since 2. All my life, sleep and I have not been very good bedfellows. Whether it is a bad dream, or maybe just an overthinking mind, some times I feel like it is more frustrating to try to sleep, than to just get up!
I think that more times than not, getting up and writing out what’s going on, brings me peace. The sad part is, even after I write and feel better, I am still pooped. I might as well keep writing, because I cannot go back to bed until tonight, or I will mess up my whole sleep cycle.
So, what has kept sleep at bay for me? I’m glad you asked. Well, let’s see now, I think it started about 3 or 4 days ago. Have you ever had times where you just feel like you are invisible? Like there are so many souls moving around you, but eyes are vacant? I had come home from an activity that was packed with people, and I should have felt happy, but climbing in to bed that night, I honestly felt like not one of those people would ever remember my name or even my face.
No harm no foul…no one did anything wrong, I simply mean that I felt like it was just a bunch of souls all caught up in their own stresses and struggles that most were just too exhausted to really try to make any real or enriching connection.
Anyway, I just felt a bit deflated, as I rarely stray far from my home to interact with anyone, and once again, it was just an unfulfilling attempt at connecting with others. I’d been feeling that disappointed ever since going out, and just couldn’t seem to shake it off. Then something happened that brought my attention front and center! Sometimes, it’s the little things. This little thing happened to be a knock on our RV door, only the next evening.
When I opened the door there was this girl, just standing there looking at me with a look that I cannot explain. It was enough, though, to draw me completely out the door and down the steps to speak eye to eye with her. I am going to share some things with you, and you may make your own suppositions from there.
I cannot say how old she was, but my best guess was late teens, early 20’s but that’s the best I can do. When I first came out the door, she had a cigarette in her hand and asked if I had any more. I explained that I’d given it up a ways back. She immediately put hers out, gently picking up the cigarette butt and placing it in her pocket. I remember asking her if she was alright, but here is where things get fuzzy…
What I thought she said was, “You are just like me, you know what its like, right?”
The young woman’s voice was so small, I had to lean forward in order to hear her better.
She pointed to my husbands work truck and said that she stopped at our home because maybe we could give her work. My heart ached for the girl, as I had no easy answers or fixes. I gave her directions of where to find shelter and food, but I just felt like that was no consolation.
Then I just thought, I See You!
And, well, my dinner was sitting right inside the door. I begged her to stay there while I went and gathered what I could. I truly thought she would be gone when I got back, but she’d waited. I found her still rooted to the spot behind the truck where I’d left her… patiently waiting for my return.
Please don’t judge me, but all I had was a cheese sandwich and some sliced watermelon. I felt stupid. She looked up at me with such a grateful smile, it seemed as if I had given her a steak from the Outback, or something. She accepted the food, thanked me sweetly, and simply disappeared. I haven’t seen her since.
Looking back, I have pondered a few things…
First of all, at no point did she ever ask me for money. In these times, we all just expect it! They are going to beg for money. Usually, if you offer them anything other than cash, they’ll just take off. She did none of those things. Could she have been a drug user, an alcoholic, or maybe a prostitute, possibly? Does it matter? Should it matter? I don’t think so. I feel like God was telling me to just give and let Him worry about the rest. Why does my ability to share anything God gives me, hinge on whether I think it is deserved. Not sure that’s in the Good Book, anywhere!
Secondly, I have been stymied by her statement about me being just like her and knowing what it was like. I have gone back over it in my mind, and I am now not even sure she actually said it.
Did I hear her say it?
Did God say it in my mind?
She could not know of my cultural origins… I am not even sure what I am!
She couldn’t possibly know that I spent many years of my youth on the streets, just like her. How could she know what I’d sacrificed to stay alive. No one does fully, myself included, because survival instincts sometimes require us to block and/or forget that which was needed for the surviving.
For most it may seem trivial, but for me… I am left feeling like God brought someone directly to my door, because He knew I would answer. I am not tooting my own horn in all this, trust me. I’m telling you about it, only because it was a major shift from my own tendencies. The old me from my upbringing was quite rigid, stubborn, distrustful, and willful. It took a lot of confidence and faith in my spiritual growth, for God to send her my way.
Was she the reason I’d been called in from the wilderness by my Father?
God’s been the only one with the power to draw me in! Honestly, I would prefer staying away, out of self-preservation. I have a tendency to find more comfort and solace in the desert than I do around society. The difference in my life now is the willingness to go in any direction God calls me to.
Sometimes, we don’t even have to go anywhere in order to serve God’s purposes… He brings them to us!
Nobody says it better than Willy Wonka, in my humble opinion. If you don’t watch at least a smidge of this video, then there’s something wrong with you…
I’m just teasing!
Seriously though, anyone whose ever seen the movie will most likely remember this song.
If anyone were to ask me at this moment, “Wiwohka, where do you come up with all the silly stories, ditties and adventures that you write about?”, I’d say Willy Wonka, for certain!
Why? I’ll try to explain…
Much of my childhood felt like a Quintin Tarentino version of young Charlie, from the movie…
How, then, did I go from that small, frightened and angry little girl, to the me that you see upon these pages? You guessed it… Willy Wonka!
I think that I desperately needed a safe place to rest, both mentally and emotionally, so when I watched Willy Wonka for the first time, I was hooked! Within my imagination, I could still believe that there was good in the world, somewhere…
I began to build a space within my tiny frame, where I could do, be or feel any way I wanted… and no one could take that away from me. In a way, I believe that God used my childlike imagination to preserve my sanity, during the most traumatic of beginnings.
And, somehow, from within that child’s imaginative heart, came the writer you see before you, now.
This is the only way I can express what it’s like to be a kid at heart, at least my version of it…
Journey With Me! 