BELONG

Today's prompt from LisaJo Baker is one of the most beautiful words in the English language-
BELONG.

GO:
This is easy for me to write about today.

The emails coming from Liberia, reaching out to me before I have had a chance to reach...

One man who works at the UN his shares his faith and asks for help in continuing his father's mission work of educating Liberian children in a school sixty miles from the capitol.

Another young man with whom my son Asher and I shared food, faith, and fun sends his warm regards and shares the current events in his life.

                                                                     Asher and Prince

A new friend, Shirley, beautiful inside and out, tells me what a blessing it was to have Asher and I at her home where she could cook for us. (The most delicious meal that I had in Liberia by far! Plantains, rice, and a whole fried fish, including eyes, which I did not venture to eat.)

                                                                         Shirley and I  


Belonging is sharing. Belonging is loving.

To Belong is to be Loved and that makes us beautiful.

Over vast oceans, across barriers of culture, He makes us belong to one another.


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Present

It is Friday today! This post is linked with LisaJo Baker's blog where we write for five minutes on her given writing prompt.

Today's is PRESENT.

GO:

When I read the prompt for today, I was not sure which meaning LisaJo had in mind for the homonym PRESENT. Did she mean the "here and now; this moment of reality" or "a wrapped up gift"? From reading her post, I soon realized that she meant the present of the "here and now."

But (in perhaps waxing too poetic) I am still considering them both. Our present is a present, isn't it? For yesterday is gone, a mirage of memories. Tomorrow is not yet, a figment of our imaginations.

But we have TODAY. Right now. To wallow in. Jump in. Celebrate. Sleep away (which is sometimes delightful too). Fill with worry. Or anger. Or bitterness. Or joy, contentment, and peace.

TODAY is a present for ours to open and unwrap and use in the manner we desire. I am sure all of us would agree that we want to spend our time wisely, making the most of every PRESENT moment, so that each minute would shine as a diamond. But it is the very minute stitches that create form in a quilt, giving it shape and design. To look at one stitch in isolation of the many others is to see only thread going through material. But viewed in unity with all of the others reveals a beautiful work of art, a blanket of practicality and beauty at the same time.

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So today when you wipe that little nose, shred the carrots, clean the smears off of the mirror, drive kids in a chauffeured relay race-Remember you are stitching  the tiny stitches of the PRESENT.

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Beautiful

Writing Five Minutes with other ladies, joining together to post on the prompt BEAUTIFUL at LisaJo Baker's blog http://lisajobaker.com/2013/07/five-minute-friday-beautiful.

GO:

Black eyes covered with failing cover-up.

Black and blue turning purple and green from where the thick fingers grasped the forearm to stop the protests.

Hearts turned hard and calloused from the frequent blows.

Eyes vacant.

THEN- a ray of Love pierces the darkness.

Bringing with it the healing power of softening the hardness.

A new learned trust allows the callous to slough off and as the color of tissue turns

pink again so does the heart. Soft, pliable-full of hope and a returned Love.

Her eyes are full of Life.

He makes all things BEAUTIFUL in His time.

STOP.

To read amazing stories of God's restoring love, please visit the Project Rescue site. http://projectrescue.com/resources/videos/ 

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In Between

Writing thoughts like candy gum drops-one sweet bite at a time till five minutes is gone.

Five Minute Friday is now with LisaJo Baker and the other lovely ladies and the writing prompt

is IN BETWEEN.

GO:

Before-here-there.

Behind-present-forward.

Past-Present=Future.

And so much is IN BETWEEN.

The In Between is full of planning, preparation, hope and sometimes worry.

So much of our time is In Between. Today I am prepping for a beach visit. It's one of those not-really-planning-activity-because-I-need-to pack days; I will be doing activity at the beach.

I feel the pull to write about living in the PRESENT and sucking in the sweet marrow of the moment.

For the rest of this summer, my current present, I feel the need for carpe diem.

My Winter and Spring were overflowing with term papers, research projects, and final essays about women in culture, culminating in a baccalaureate degree, a trip to Liberia that is certainly life-changing as I plan registering an NGO, and the life-stuff of two adult sons (now 18 and 20) a teen daughter and a tween one, husband, and a dog. Fall does not look any less full as I begin my studies for a Masters degree in English.

BUT-In Between are the blessed months of summer. 

Thank God for times of refreshing (Acts 3:19). 

Sweet tea, lemonade teeming with ice cubes, ice cream dripping down the chin, drive-in movies, splashing in the pool, and reading while swaying in the hammock.

Yes, thankful for times of refreshing, those in between times!

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Kid Hangover?

Are you a cranky Mom? Or more like me, a Mom who gets cranky?

There may be a very good reason for your grumpiness that you have not considered. I read Anne's blog post from Modern Mrs. Darcy this morning and want to share it with you. I think so many of us NEED to recharge in quiet, and not realizing that, nor pursuing this need creates a cranky atmosphere in the home.

First I will share my comment to the post:

 Yes! I am one too! I understand the kid-hangover and the over-stimulation. Has anyone mentioned Wal-Mart as a TRIGGER? I predictably get headaches from shopping there- bright, fluorescent lights and excess visual stimulation. One of my daughters is similar to myself, needing and enjoying alone time. But my eleven year-old is an incessant talker=Mom wanting to hide in bedroom. Since we are usually home together all day, I have made sure to incorporate some alone/quiet time into my schedule: a soaking hot bath and an hour to read before bed usual do it. 

This is not selfish time. It is necessary for either recharging or rebooting. Think of you computer: sometimes it simply needs to be turned off and revamped. While sleep does this for our physical bodies, and to an extent our minds, introverts need time to download the day's processes, conversations, etc. Being introverted or extroverted is not merely about how much we talk or exude energy but how we REFUEL our energy.

If you can relate read more of Anne's post HERE.

YES! I am one too! I understand kid-hangover AND the over-stimulation. Has anyone mentioned Wal-Mart as a TRIGGER? I predictably get head-aches from shopping there-bright lights and excess visual stimulation….one of my daughters is similar to myself, but my eleven-year old incessantly talks=Mom wanting to hide in bedroom. Since I am home usually all day, one way in which I had to give myself boundaries (from the audio noise) is to make sure I have an hour before bed-no-kids-time.
I am sure that you have mentioned before that introverted and extroverted is not merely how we exude energy but how we RECHARGE. Another safety-net feature to my life-hot,soaking baths (of course, by myself). - See more at: http://modernmrsdarcy.com/2013/06/its-more-than-a-kid-hangover/#comment-26271

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Rhythms of Life- FMF

Today's prompt from LisaJo Baker is Rhythm. That word evokes a lot of music within my heart. I will write for just five minutes like the other ladies.

GO:
Rhythm and cadence and keeping time, marching. Step. Step. Step. Music flowing-with crescendos and rests.

The music of Life plays on.

Ten days past walking under bright sunny African skies and later listening from my bed the study pouring of

rain as the clouds are squeezed. Bright eyes and big smiles offering us hospitality and welcome. Round eyes dancing with glee as they play with balloons of every Crayola color. Two days of travel to arrive over the green, neatly manicured farms of Martinsburg, Pennsylvania. In this respect the Liberians are correct, I think: from here, America is second heaven.

""Mama!" and more welcoming hugs and kisses. Incessant chatter and the "finding "of our luggage tied with yellow ribbons on the return conveyor belt where only two other passengers await theirs as well.

Immediate planning for the birthday of the youngest-turning eleven. The event rivals the arrival of Princess Kate's new royal one. Two parties this year-one for Grandparents and another for friends, makes for a week of planning and preparing.

VBS craft leader-I can do that; I already have that tune memorized. And it is Friday ALREADY.

Next week I expect the tune to slow. I need a SELAH to take in the last month.

I am thankful for the kaleidoscope of rhythms.

 

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Listen

I say it every week with some incredulation (yes, if you write the words-you can even make some up to fit your purpose): It's Friday already.

Last Friday I sat in Liberian humidity, hair soaked from roots to ends as I typed the LOV post. This morning, I am being refreshed by the too-cool-for-mid-June morning air wafting through my kitchen window, wearing thick comfy socks and a robe on top of pajamas. So I did not literally melt in Africa, but there we many times that I was sure I would end up in a puddle to be drunk by the ever-thirsting terracotta earth. I feel like shouting-I survived Africa! ( :   

But honesty prompts me to confess that I DID have an air conditioner in my bedroom (though with continuously open windows and it not being turned on in the daytime, the room maintained the ever-moist atmosphere), a shower whose weak flow only gave out twice while my head was lathered with shampoo, electricity in the Guest House (albeit also went off at inopportune times), and access to the internet.

Those of you who know how high-maintenance this chic is, will have some appreciation of my trip-and I didn't even complain! except when I think about being smooshed in a United economy airplane seat with a toddler sitting behind me kicking my seat and wailing for a good part of the trans-Atlantic flight (who decides who has the right to the shared arm rest? The bigger elbow? After leaning seven hours to the right, I claimed  the left arm rest when the passenger beside me went to the lavatory by maintaining elbow position).

Yes, beyond all reason, I still put on make-up everyday, knowing that all but the waterproof mascara would be rubbed off by my sweat rag-a.k.a. wash cloth (which I was happy to learn that most everyone carries one with them, even to church, though at a "nicer" church that I visited, I noticed that most of the ladies used white handkerchiefs; I just used mine twenty times as much).

I did have ICE (yeah for filtered water!!!) and even ice cream in Africa. So I am thinking that I cannot sing a victorious survival song till I go into the interior-with no running water or electricity (does anyone know of a solar-generated fan? please let me know!). Next visit!

Now that I have shared THAT- Today I write with the ladies who visit LisaJo Baker's blog where this unique cookie-cutter gives us a ONE word prompt with which to bake up a theme recipe in five, flat minutes.

Today the prompt is LISTEN.
GO:

 

It takes three days for my auditorially-challenged ear to tune in enough to understand maybe fifty percent of the Liberian English dialect spoken with soft-leathery tones in sing-song cadence. My head becomes too quickly tired from making sense of the every five words that I do understand. English can be spoken in as many flavors as there are Ben & Jerry's icecream.

I listen. Till like a newborn who falls asleep when there brain is overloaded with stimuli, I relish the quiet breaks.

Women. Empowered women. Courageous women. Women with visions to make their home country a restored, healthy haven after the ravages of a fourteen-year civil war destroyed governments, homes, bodies, and hearts.       

I listen to how lives have been changed by the benevolent work of many. I hear their plead for more help as the need seems bottomless. Haven is the dream desire, but they will settle for clean water, every belly full, opportunity for every child to gain an education, a place where victims of thoughtless violence can receive counseling.

I listen and consider what ACTION I can now take with the words that I have heard.

STOP.
 

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Fall

Friday already! I have sooo much to write about our trip here in Liberia . . . but I cannot place it all into words right now. I wish that I could upload the pictures that I have on my phone. Please come back next week and visit LOV, by then I will be home.

So I am glad that I can participate in LisaJo Baker's writing prompt that she offers every Friday. We sit and just type the words that flow for five short minutes. Maybe I can give you just a tiny glimpse into the environment that we visited yesterday.

Today's prompt is FALL.
GO:
60,000, probably many more bodies in make shift homes of corrugated tin and cinder blocks-cinder blocks if you are doing well, jammed like sardines in less than a quarter square mile.

The women come to the office room to meet with the "whi-woma-" faces shining like ebony glass. The tape rolls on my phone and she explains life in West Point as the other women nod in agreement.

"Twenty girls a month come to see us. They have been raped. Some of the parents do not want them taken to the hospital" . . . because their offenders are friends and uncles of the family. The girls that do get taken to the hospital by these volunteering women are checked and tested for AIDS and other deadly diseases. They soon return receiving some counseling from the women at the Center, to return from whence they have come.

There exists no other alternative.

They have been made to fall- to feel the terror of victimization.

Right now I can only pray that they will discover that He can pick them up out of the ashes.

STOP.

Please pray for me as I prayerfully consider what manner my ministry can be of future hope to them.



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Imagine-

Well, I am writing another Friday. I'm not sure the links will work , but I am going to try to post anyway. The writing prompt for today is IMAGINE. Love that word; it contains the ocean and the sky and all of the stars that we see and cannot see.

GO:
Humidity that sticks like a bee to honey.
Showers that stop their flow mid-lather because the generator ran out.

Smiles of whiteness set in ebony cheeks.

Dirt, and dust, sweat.....oh the sweat, a towel sops it off my body.

Round brown eyes with a glass reflection looking into mine with
curiosity and wonder.

Rare feelings of feeling the minority-being the minority.

Horns, blasts, motorcycles driving fast.
"Welcome" and more "welcome"s-
Imagine-I am in Liberia.

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Our View

 It's Friday-Yay! And it is time to write with the ladies from Lisa Jo Baker's blog. I was hoping that today's prompt could/would help me stream line some thoughts floating in my mind about meeting the people in Liberia. I think this prompt should help: VIEW.

GO:

Female Genital Mutilation. We Westerners deem the act "Mutilation."  The practitioners of it call it "female circumcision" or "female genital cutting." One only has to be aware of the actual procedure to be convinced that it is mutilation. (There are four common procedures, and though a cut of the hood of the clitoris is one of them-closer to an actual circumcision-this form is the one most rarely performed.)

My view is that is that it is an unnecessary heinous act. But, as in all subjects, there are other points of view. I have studied why some women consider this procedure paramount to being a true, notable woman. I have spoken (in America) to victims whose family members had irreperable consequences becasue of it (death in one family). 

I have also learned that  my ways are not their cultural ways. When FGM is mentioned, they speak of colonialism-what we Americans learn about from yellowing pages in History class, then let the subject lie between the pages. They speak of imperialism and capitalism and consumerism as affecting their cultures. At first, I am stunned and confused about the relation of these all-encompassing subjects that I have only known the affluent benefits from. I didn't know their was another view, and therein lies my arrogant American view.

So when I arrive in Monrovia, Liberia, West Africa, Wednesday evening, I purpose to wear a view of humility that will listen and learn. I want to learn others' views that I may learn more of them. I will not push my view on them.

Is there some subject or situation that you are convinced that you are convinced is the correct view? Have you considered there may be another one?

To learn more of the history of Liberia refer to LOV's "Make a Difference" page.

To learn more about FGM visit the WHO page here.

 

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Sing Your Song

Have been hungering to write...but bills and getting my chidren's homeschool portfolios ready for their annual evaluations got in the way. But life-stuff always gets in the way and sometimes it's good, like yesterday, when my daughter covered me with hugs and noisy, "mmoiuu" kisses as I headed out the door. I drove north five hours through Pennsylvania's rounded mountain tops and along New York's Finger Lake (I do not know which one, but that did not keep me from inhaling its beauty) to Seneca Falls- I will visit the Women's National Park where the First Women's Convention was held. Thank Elizabeth Cady-Stanton and many other brave women for your right to vote Ladies. Later, I will be heading to spend some time with the Zackey family to discuss the Liberia trip.  To gain further understanding about the travesty that affects Liberia visit the "Make a Difference" page; the button on is the right side bar, scroll down and you will find some information about the Zackeys work.

Right NOW, I want to continue my good-habit of typing words with the ladies at Five Minute Fridays at Lisa-Jo Baker blog. We punch the keyboard for five too-short minutes, a stream-of-consciousness comes through and sometimes I, myself, am surprised at the thoguhts formed on this screen.

Today's propmt- SONG
GO:
We are always usually wishing for what we do not have, and as I include myself, I would say that I want to (be able) to sing! Actually, I do not think my voice is offensive to the ears, on the contrary, I would consider it averagely pleasant. BUT, my family and children are always telling me otherwise! "Mom! please don't sing!" Good for me that the Lord appreciates a joyful noise.

Singing is not one of my gifts. I cannot change that. No amount of lessons or practice would make me into a singer-star. But I am thinking that there is something that I can direct: the SONG that I sing.

We all have songs. Some of us choose the whiny-song to which ears close. Others sing the song of martydom. There are songs of complaint, anger, frustration. After listening to those songs, I hear myself singing the same tune.

We choose our SONG. We can consciously choose to sing a song of joy, of gratitude, of hope-even if we don't fell like singing.

If we sing those songs, maybe our thoughts and emotions will rise to the words, and, maybe-just maybe, the world will sing with us.

I leave you with a beautiful rendition of one of my favorite songs-no, I am not singing it!
Enjoy-
http://clarrissegill.com/videoclips/amazing_grace.php

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Comfort those . . .

Writing today with the ladies linking at  Lisa-Jo Baker's blog. Her prompt is COMFORT.

What other word conjures up warm feelings of security, safeness, deep down joy and contentment?

A few of us privileged in this world experience true comfort-

But what about  the little boy with a runny nose that has no Mother to gently wipe it for him?

Or the little girl who just scraped her knee when playing jump rope and no one is there to kiss it?

I wonder where and how the orphans experience comfort, if they even know what comfort is?

What of the teen boys who have made a family of themselves, all packed into a 10' by10' room, sleeping without mattresses using each other's bodies for pillows?

Or the woman banished from her people because a stranger violently ravaged her body? She is lost and broken.

I wonder if I will meet some of these that are in so need of comfort. On May 29th, I will be traveling to Monrovia, Liberia. The plan is to visit several orphanages and interview women who have been victims of rape, Human trafficking, or undergone FGM. (If you do not know what that is or want to learn more, read here FGM .)

I ask myself what comfort I could possibly offer them? I only pray that I may lead them to the One Who is Comforter.

I covet your prayers for this trip-safety, wisdom, good connections, open doors, and comfort for the oppressed. Please consider marking your calendar-May 29th through June 11th-to be consciously praying. Thank you.

 
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Being Brave

It's Friday and I am linking up with the Ladies from Lisa-Jo Baker's blog. We like to write. And I like that I write just five minutes-stream of conscious-and I have a blog post. Otherwise . . .

Please forgive me for touting myself today, besides the glorious, long-awaited sun shining on the lilac blossoms ready-to-burst and the cool breeze floating through the window as I write stirring up all natural jubilation, I have something  else on my mind and it is sure to show itself as I write.

GO: BRAVE.
 
When the path is before you, but the way darkened, and the only step before you is the one illuminated- You must be BRAVE.

The act of bravery is a relationship: one of believing and one of acting upon.

Twenty months ago, I entered the college classroom. I was not "going back" to school, rather "going" to school. For twenty years I have been raising my wee ones, placing them on the path to adulthood, now I was about to step onto a diverging path. I was not sure if I could  make it through one semester. But with faith, grace, and a lot of  encouragement from family-and patience because of eating too many take-out meals, I am able to finish and earn a Bachelor of Arts degree in English, History, and Women's Studies. The theme of my LAS degree is "The Influence of Women Upon Culture." Fast and furious-sometimes my motto.

Graduation is tomorrow. Can you read my big smile?

Another path is before me-In four weeks I am traveling to Liberia, Africa. My actual goal is hazy; I just know that I want to spend time working in orphanages and will have the opportunity to interview women who have been victims of rape, H.T., and FGM. Honestly, though I have traveled internationally, I have never been to a country still feeling the destruction of a civil war that ended just ten years ago. And if one googles "Liberia," enough stories will appear to wreak havoc on your dream matter. But I feel compelled to go.
I believe it is part of  His plan and I am taking the step forward.
I am being brave.

All by grace,
Nicol

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FRIEND in my Journey

Joyful Spring! We have waited so long in the North for the warmth of fresh sunshine, I have to sing some praises.

Today's prompt from the Gypsy Mama--word of comfort--FRIEND.

You have been with me, by my side for twenty-four years, over half of our lives! 

Not always literally by my side, but there in kindred spirit and heart.

The giggles of single girls sharing beach stories, shared expectations 

before my wedding night, secrets that only each other could understand.

Conversations filled with confusion trying to make sense of a Christian

circle gone bad. "I guess this is Good-bye."

Serious, stern words hold my gaze, "It will never be good-bye for us."

 

 Tears of joy and tears of sorrow.

Weddings, births, loved one passing through the valley.

Parting geographic locations with saddened hearts.

You are the one I call when the skies are dark, 

when they weight of the world presses me to the ground.

You always have a story or song to sing that makes me LOL-laugh out loud, really.

-laughter that bellows from deep down in our insides--did I say "potty"?

Walking this earthy journey together-kindred hearts.

I am so glad that you are my FRIEND.

 

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Five-Minute Friday: Jump

Words popping up today like the tiny green shoots bursting through the bare soil. Good things are to come. 
I am making words JUMP today with the ladies from The Gypsy Mama. She gives the prompt and we see what green grows from our fingertips.

JUMP! GO:

When the road is dark taking the next step can be daunting. Wrong turns have been taken before. You know what it's like to feel lost.

The next step. Life beckons you forward: you have no choice. But feet are planted firmly in the path. Frozen, they will not move.

But you did find your way before when the wilderness engulfed you. He did take your hand and lead on the safe path. Your wrong turn was just  a momentary detour adding  twists and curls to the overall itinerary.

The way is before you-the end is not in sight. Light shines upon your feet and you can only see where to place your right foot.

Take courage. He will pick you up if you fall. And if you do turn to the left, His unfolding path will bend to meet ypu.

Breathe deep and JUMP.

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Beloved

Spilling out tumbling onto the keyboard for five brief minutes-just because we like to. Writing with the ladies at The Gypy Mama today. The prompt is Beloved.

GO.

Is there a word that conjures up more warm feelings than "beloved." It is an old-fashioned word. We usually do not look at our husband with dove eyes, sigh, and say, "You are my beloved." (Maybe we should?) 

The lover in Song of Solomon did. "He is my beloved and I am his." She lets her love, commitment, excitement spill out in song. (No, I especially cannot see myself--ever--singing of  my love to my husband.)

But we do have a Lover that songs over us. His joy in loving us fills, spills, and overflows into song over us. We are His Beloved.

Do you know that dear one? When life brings torment and friends are unfriendly, there is One who wants to scoop you up us in His arms, place kisses all over your face, and call you, "My Beloved."

But to receive what He has you must be-loved. Not lovable. He loves us in spite of all our quirks and faults. WE must receive His love. Believe. Accept.  Be loved, Beloved.

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We All Want Flowers

 Many of you will be receiving flowers tomorrow from the man in your life as a symbol of his love for you.

Many of you will not receive flowers -and will probably be pining that you didn't.   We are women.  We want our loved one to acknowledge US, to tell us that we matter to them.  We want pretty petals to look at, to remind us that we are loved.  Nothing says it more deeply than the velvety petals of the rose.

Do any of you watch the television show "The Middle?"  The episode this week showed the Heck couple dining out with friends.  A flower lady approached their table and asked each husband if he would like to buy a rose for the love of his life. The husbands of the two other couples purchased the lovely single rose and in handling the love token to their wives, received the crowds, "Aaaaahs."  Mike Heck simply continued his monologue and dismissed the flower lady with a "No, thank you."  Frankie (his wife) is left flowerless and grabs a bread stick to munch on while her two friends gaze at the velvety petals.  The next morning Mike is awakened by a very upset Frankie who berates him, "Why didn't you buy me a flower?"  He replies, "I thought we agreed that that is a scam and that flowers are a waste of money?"  "Yes,of course it is.  But I still wanted a rose!!"

Doesn't that speak for the woman in all of us?  I know for me it does.  Yes, Hallmark is making millions from the propaganda of your love.  So is the flower industry, and diamond.  We KNOW that it is propaganda.  But don't we still want the flowers?

How will YOU react if your hubby comes home empty handed Tuesday evening?

Can you get over your disappointment?

In twenty years of a marriage relationship, I would like to think that I have grown and learned something.  There have been a few Valentine's that I went flowerless.  I have been disappointed. I have cried.  I have yelled . . . And I have learned to not depend on my husband so much for fulfillment and happiness.  My husband will be away this Valentine's Day.  He is working 2,000 miles from our front door.  That speaks his love to me.  He will not be able to bring me flowers.  I knew that.  So when I saw this beautiful bouquet at Sam's Club -I bought them for myself.  And I love to see them open more each day.

The other day my daughters and I made cookies.  I tried out the new cookie mold I had bought for the purpose of making heart-shaped coolies for Valentine's Day.  Making my husband's favorite, chocolate chip, I filled the mold.  The cookie turned out perfectly.  I took a picture of the tasty treat with my phone and sent it to my husband with the message, "Here is your Valentine's gift.  I guess we will have to eat it for you."  I also sent him a picture of the flowers with the message, "Here are the flowers you bought me, thank you."

He replied, "Bon appetit.  And I hope that you like the flowers."

We both smiled inside.

It is freedom to know that I can buy myself flowers....and enjoy them.

Can you?

Have a Valentine's Day filled with joy and love.

Repost.

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Not Afraid

I was looking forward to Friday morning as I wanted to participate in The Gypsy Mama's 5-minute writing prompt; I thought that it would be a great way to start writing again on the LOV blog.  I was expecting feel good word-prompts like "Tasty," "Fluffy," or "Light."  But today's prompt is AFRAID.  I am stumped.  Nothing comes to mind. Hmm...

OK- I will just stream-write, like we are supposed to do anyway....

AFRAID- Cancer is the first thing that comes to mind....I don't have it, but I could someday. But someday is not today. I will not worry about that.  I can be brave then should that ever occur.

But "afraid" is directly connected to worry isn't it?  We worry because we are afraid of something.

Honestly, I think my biggest worry is not living a lived-life.  I do not want to sound too existential this Friday, cold-Oh, it's February 1st today, yeah!!!-morning.  Really, though, I told myself many years ago, and I am not sure when or what led to this thought, that I never wanted to live a life of regrets-no regrets. I am afraid of doing that. So each day-consciously or not it functions in the weave of my soul now-I try to live.  To me that is sucking in the marrow of the moment, passing on a smile, telling my children that I love them out-of-the-blue. Not that  I get it right-I still yell in my car at really s-l-o-w drivers. 

But, I believe I am living the Master's path. And I am not afraid.

 

 

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