The World Is Too Fast…

September 28, 2015

Looking at a door that once held a mirror, I noted the plastic encasing where screws bored into the wood. This is intended for long term. Temporary gadgets abound on store shelves today. Even shades are equipped so no nails have to be used.

Jobs, homes, friendships, family…nothing is immune to becoming temporary. Never before have I felt such a loneliness in the world. Always seeking something to satisfy the soul.

Mirages. The lovely refreshing promise (of whatever you are seeking) is in your sights…until you get “right there” …and it disappears. Only sand is left.

Too many mirages.

Too many dreams.

Grains of sand scattered to the wind, leaving nothing more than an irritated life with no pearl.

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Basking in the morning sun has me feeling relaxed and alive. Fair skin with (lots) freckles, I’ve alienated myself for years because I was uneasy about acquiring more and darkening the ones already there.

Picasso had his Blue Period. Mine has been black…and not on art canvas.

Clear thinking this A.M. , I asked myself…What do I like?




It is a question I must ask. One that I’ve pushed down for so long it seems a fresh concept.

The minutes I sat in full sun warmed both my body and thoughts. To quote King Of The Hill character, Bobby Hill, “… I like me.” …

Even if others don’t. With my freckles, capped and missing teeth, glasses, stomach pudge from babies, cokes, and junk food.

Bobby Hill was right. He knew who he was and saw the good points of his life…and

accepted himself.

The sun is my friend.

He smiled at me again today and this time I accepted his invitation.

The Truth…

September 14, 2015

Food (Water)

Clothing

Shelter

If, in this present life you have these… everything else is a luxury.

I needed to remind myself.

A Thinking Assignment…

September 5, 2015

Is diversity and tolerance really  the goals?

If difference is to be celebrated, then which ones and why?

If differences offend (some) others, why are the offended made to conform, thereby negating diversity and tolerance?

Can conforming be (successfully) defined as acceptance if it is forced?

As human beings, we will never accept all things alike.

So…what is the answer?

One Year Later…

September 3, 2015

Mama was born and took her first breath of life in the summer. Her final breath was released in the same season. She lived ninety-four years upon this earth with all its God made magnificence. Each day, month, and year she accumulated those things appointed for her specific purpose.

She was a farmer’s daughter who watched the cotton grow and chopped it in hat, gloves, long sleeves, and britches. She remarked how when they went to town you could tell the farm girls by their tan skin. Mama shielded hers so she would remain fair. She told of how her mother left her in a large box as a baby while she worked in the fields with her husband (Mama’s daddy). According to her paternal grandmother, she “swoll” from being so blistered. Til’ her death she never liked being in direct sun.

I remember how cool her arms felt even if outside temperatures were scorching. How she was ladylike in her actions while dangling a cigarette in her lips at home, only  at home, never in public. Funny how you remember things like that. She loved us, her children and grandchildren, to the best of her ability. There was a tenderness beneath the protective shell she had fashioned from past warfare in the battle of life.

Last year on this calendar date, the shell was broken and she was finally free. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, “He hath made everything beautiful in his time: …”

I saw God’s beauty, peace, and rest for the weary soul in my mother’s face  a year ago today.

It was her time. It was His timing.

Job 1:21  (Authorized King James Version)

“And said, Naked came I out of my mother’s womb and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.