My blog has become my journal and since I don't keep a journal, I guess that's okay. I don't have anything to hide, nothing sinister and nothing that would raise eyebrows...Just an ordinary, boring housewife raising a child and totally frustrated at the crap this life dishes out!
I've been wondering lately, "What happened to my dreams?" And then I realize, "Life happened." And it gives me pause...
WHERE is that book I'm supposed to write?
WHY am I still just a housewife?
WHAT happened to my pretty face?
HOW did I get so damned fat?
WHEN did the years slip away and fast forward to HERE?
At this point the only thing I see attainable is that book I'm supposed to write! Yet, where do I start, or better yet, how do I end? I've only started about 20 books, and they start out pretty good...very entertaining for myself...but about midway I stall, the story stalls and the poor characters are left hanging in limbo and wondering, "What happens next?".
Bless their hearts...They are a lot like my life...I am like one of those small rubber balls that you bounce across the livingroom and before it slows to a stop, it has covered every room of the house, taken out a quarter of the light bulbs, broken 50% of the what-nots and caused the wall hangings to droop off center.
Yep! That's me, alright...No one knows where I'm going, but they damned sure know where I've been by the havoc I've left in my wake!!!
A long time ago someone called me, "Quicksilver". I think that should be changed to, "Rubber Ball"!
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
I should have stayed in bed!
There are some days when I just wonder why it was that I ever climbed out of the damned bed! Today was one of those days!!!
It all started this past Sunday when Logan decided to make "dirt angels" in the newly plowed up garden spot. In his shorts, tee-shirt and sandals he decided to lie down amid the dirt and plowed under horse manure and make "dirt angels" as his Pappaw repeatedly told him not to. Some minutes later he jumps up and started scratching furiously at his legs below the knee. On close inspection we could find no ants, fleas, bugs of any kind, or any type of weed on the ground. We did find small raised areas all along one side of his calves and as the evening wore on, it resembled some sort of bite or sting, but he said it just itched really bad.
I gave him Benadryl and topical antihistamines to no avail. He also had repeated baths. But last night, the 2nd night since the "dirt angel" idea, the poor child and his pitiful grandmother might have slept an hour because he was itching so terribly and nothing helped at all.
As soon as I got out of bed I was on the phone to the doctor. Since we are two days from Thanksgiving, there were no appointments to be had and the doctor's office told me to take him to the ER since he's a Medicaid patient and because he has such weird allergies.
By 9:30 am we were at the ER where I explained that the doctor's office had sent me. 10:30am we were taken to a patient room. 11:00am an ER doctor with an attitude walks in and says, "What is the emergency here, if you have one." I repeated that the doctors office had sent us to the ER and why. He looks over the legs and says disgustingly, "Ant bites. You brought this kid to the ER for ant bites."
Them was fightin' words!
I said, "Those are NOT ant bites! I am only here because my doctor sent me here."
He replied, "Yes they are ant bites."
I said, "No they are not! We were standing within 5 feet of this child and as soon as he stood up he said he was itching, we stripped him and found no ants and no insects on his body at all."
He wanted to argue and said, "These ARE ant bites."
I pointed to a series of 10 little new raised areas and asked this brilliant horses ass, "Then show me the ants that have just bitten him here."
He looked and shook his head, "Ant bites. Well, ain't nobody ever died from a damned rash or an insect bite." And he turned to leave the room and I spoke up immediately and told him that there were many people who HAVE died from insect bites.
The ass just laughed and left the room.
I sat there with Logan for about 10 minutes before I said to hell with it and walked back out to the waiting room. I asked the lady what I needed to do to leave. She said I had to sign some papers and then she said, "I wish you would have waited to see the doctor." I replied with a room full of people behind me, "We have seen that sonofabitch and that's why we're leaving.I did what my doctor told me to do and I will not have that SOB mistreat me because of it."
Outside I called the doctor's office and she told me to be there at 1:40pm as she had just had a cancelation.
Logan and I had lunch before heading to the doctors office. We arrived there at 1:15pm and signed in. I sat not 4 feet from the door that leads into the interior exam rooms and one by one, patients were called back...Patients that had arrived after us. Not once did I hear Logan's name called, nor did anyone else bother to say a word. Finally at 3:00pm I walked up and asked if they were going to be able to see Logan and the lady says, "We've called you twice and I've even called your home and cell phone!" I told her that we had not left the waiting area and had been there the entire time.
At 3:30 we were finally allowed back. The doctor examined Logan and agreed with me...He did not have any ant bites, but he had definitely gotten into something. He said it could be some type of mite, or it could be a plant that had been plowed under and Logan was sensitive to it. But at any rate, he had a very severe case of allergic dermatitis with fever and swelling in his calves. He was given an oral steroid, antihistamine and antibiotic...just in case his scratching led to infection.
At 4:00pm we arrived at the grocery store and went straight to the pharmacy with the script. Logan and I then did a bit of Thanksgiving dinner shopping, visited with a dear friend and finally made our way back to the pharmacy at 4:35pm. I signed for the meds and realized instantly that I had made a mistake...I'd forgotten to tell the doctor that Logan must have pills...he does not swallow liquids, but projectile vomits them towards me once they hit his throat. I had to return the meds and wait another 30 minutes for them to refill the script with pills.
During all of this, I tried to call my husband, but he did not answer his cell.
At a few minutes after 5:00pm, Logan and I headed home and I dialed the house. Abby answered and asked, "WHERE ARE YOU? Dad is freaking out!" I replied, "Tell him to answer his damned phone and he would know!"
We pulled into the drive at 5:35pm and when we got out of the truck Larry asked, "Well? How was your day?"
I replied, "We know that I've lost sight in one eye. Today I realized that I have apparently lost some of my hearing. I'm very close to loosing a lot of my sanity and I'm only 44 years old. So I guess my day was as good as it could be for all I don't have going for me...How was YOUR day?"
He shook his head and said, "Better than yours."
It all started this past Sunday when Logan decided to make "dirt angels" in the newly plowed up garden spot. In his shorts, tee-shirt and sandals he decided to lie down amid the dirt and plowed under horse manure and make "dirt angels" as his Pappaw repeatedly told him not to. Some minutes later he jumps up and started scratching furiously at his legs below the knee. On close inspection we could find no ants, fleas, bugs of any kind, or any type of weed on the ground. We did find small raised areas all along one side of his calves and as the evening wore on, it resembled some sort of bite or sting, but he said it just itched really bad.
I gave him Benadryl and topical antihistamines to no avail. He also had repeated baths. But last night, the 2nd night since the "dirt angel" idea, the poor child and his pitiful grandmother might have slept an hour because he was itching so terribly and nothing helped at all.
As soon as I got out of bed I was on the phone to the doctor. Since we are two days from Thanksgiving, there were no appointments to be had and the doctor's office told me to take him to the ER since he's a Medicaid patient and because he has such weird allergies.
By 9:30 am we were at the ER where I explained that the doctor's office had sent me. 10:30am we were taken to a patient room. 11:00am an ER doctor with an attitude walks in and says, "What is the emergency here, if you have one." I repeated that the doctors office had sent us to the ER and why. He looks over the legs and says disgustingly, "Ant bites. You brought this kid to the ER for ant bites."
Them was fightin' words!
I said, "Those are NOT ant bites! I am only here because my doctor sent me here."
He replied, "Yes they are ant bites."
I said, "No they are not! We were standing within 5 feet of this child and as soon as he stood up he said he was itching, we stripped him and found no ants and no insects on his body at all."
He wanted to argue and said, "These ARE ant bites."
I pointed to a series of 10 little new raised areas and asked this brilliant horses ass, "Then show me the ants that have just bitten him here."
He looked and shook his head, "Ant bites. Well, ain't nobody ever died from a damned rash or an insect bite." And he turned to leave the room and I spoke up immediately and told him that there were many people who HAVE died from insect bites.
The ass just laughed and left the room.
I sat there with Logan for about 10 minutes before I said to hell with it and walked back out to the waiting room. I asked the lady what I needed to do to leave. She said I had to sign some papers and then she said, "I wish you would have waited to see the doctor." I replied with a room full of people behind me, "We have seen that sonofabitch and that's why we're leaving.I did what my doctor told me to do and I will not have that SOB mistreat me because of it."
Outside I called the doctor's office and she told me to be there at 1:40pm as she had just had a cancelation.
Logan and I had lunch before heading to the doctors office. We arrived there at 1:15pm and signed in. I sat not 4 feet from the door that leads into the interior exam rooms and one by one, patients were called back...Patients that had arrived after us. Not once did I hear Logan's name called, nor did anyone else bother to say a word. Finally at 3:00pm I walked up and asked if they were going to be able to see Logan and the lady says, "We've called you twice and I've even called your home and cell phone!" I told her that we had not left the waiting area and had been there the entire time.
At 3:30 we were finally allowed back. The doctor examined Logan and agreed with me...He did not have any ant bites, but he had definitely gotten into something. He said it could be some type of mite, or it could be a plant that had been plowed under and Logan was sensitive to it. But at any rate, he had a very severe case of allergic dermatitis with fever and swelling in his calves. He was given an oral steroid, antihistamine and antibiotic...just in case his scratching led to infection.
At 4:00pm we arrived at the grocery store and went straight to the pharmacy with the script. Logan and I then did a bit of Thanksgiving dinner shopping, visited with a dear friend and finally made our way back to the pharmacy at 4:35pm. I signed for the meds and realized instantly that I had made a mistake...I'd forgotten to tell the doctor that Logan must have pills...he does not swallow liquids, but projectile vomits them towards me once they hit his throat. I had to return the meds and wait another 30 minutes for them to refill the script with pills.
During all of this, I tried to call my husband, but he did not answer his cell.
At a few minutes after 5:00pm, Logan and I headed home and I dialed the house. Abby answered and asked, "WHERE ARE YOU? Dad is freaking out!" I replied, "Tell him to answer his damned phone and he would know!"
We pulled into the drive at 5:35pm and when we got out of the truck Larry asked, "Well? How was your day?"
I replied, "We know that I've lost sight in one eye. Today I realized that I have apparently lost some of my hearing. I'm very close to loosing a lot of my sanity and I'm only 44 years old. So I guess my day was as good as it could be for all I don't have going for me...How was YOUR day?"
He shook his head and said, "Better than yours."
Thoughts & Questions
I've always been a dreamer...a planner...a hoper...a wanter...With visions of grandeur...a deep need for attention...a strong desire to be loved...a longing for something undescernable, something so near I could taste it, so far I couldn't grasp it...
Where do these feelings, these yearnings stem from?
What causes me to have such strong feelings, such intense needs, such peculiar emotions?
Who's voice is it that calls me from afar? That voice that bids me "Come." and tugs at my heart to follow?
Is it some distant memory from my past, some familiar...yet completely unknown force...Or is this perhaps God, my Maker, the Keeper of my soul?
At this point in my life I am no longer content with the words of man to lead and guide me. I'm no longer a follower of teachings that I find to be questionable, and oft times in error.
But then, was I ever content? Was I ever a follower? Haven't I always been a leader of my own soul? A dreamer of my own dreams? Haven't I always followed my own heart? Haven't I always marched to the beat of my own drum and wandered through this life, not because I was lost, but because I simply enjoyed the longer journey that would take me to places with few people and a whole lot of time with God?
Sometimes it all makes perfect sense...and sometimes this life is the craziest journey!!! But in the end, I hope I can say..."DANG! What a RIDE it was!"
Where do these feelings, these yearnings stem from?
What causes me to have such strong feelings, such intense needs, such peculiar emotions?
Who's voice is it that calls me from afar? That voice that bids me "Come." and tugs at my heart to follow?
Is it some distant memory from my past, some familiar...yet completely unknown force...Or is this perhaps God, my Maker, the Keeper of my soul?
At this point in my life I am no longer content with the words of man to lead and guide me. I'm no longer a follower of teachings that I find to be questionable, and oft times in error.
But then, was I ever content? Was I ever a follower? Haven't I always been a leader of my own soul? A dreamer of my own dreams? Haven't I always followed my own heart? Haven't I always marched to the beat of my own drum and wandered through this life, not because I was lost, but because I simply enjoyed the longer journey that would take me to places with few people and a whole lot of time with God?
Sometimes it all makes perfect sense...and sometimes this life is the craziest journey!!! But in the end, I hope I can say..."DANG! What a RIDE it was!"
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Ramblings...
Lately I've been finding myself slowly sinking into the great abyss of depression and there isn't a thing I can do about it. Going to an MD only serves to be diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and fed drugs that screw me up worse than the only acid trip I've ever taken, which just happened to be twenty-eight years ago and as clear as if it happened yesterday. I'm NOT bi-polar and I'm not suffering from clinical depression. I'm suffering from chronic pain, chronic stress and absolute frustration which in turn physically weakens me and THAT is what depresses me. The fact that I hurt somewhere in my body every day of the last twenty-five years and the fact that I've yet to discover how to handle my stress is aggravating, and the fact that I see no changes in sight depresses me!
Bi-polar is a chemical imbalance and my chemicals are balanced, it's just my joints and my life that is out of kelter.
And few, if anyone, understands or even knows these tid bits about me. Instead I'm labeled as a bitch...And while it does bother me to some degree, on the otherhand I think, "Oh, well! Walk in my shoes for a day and I promise you won't be angelic, either."
There are people who look at me and apparently view me as a simpleton because I don't strive to keep up with the Jones. I don't sit and dream about diamonds on my fingers, driving a Chevy taHOe, seeing George Strait in concert...(Give me a break, will ya? I saw him once, he was great. Why do I need to see him everytime he comes within 6 hours of where I live???) I don't wear "slacks" or Italian leather shoes or shop at Macy's or get my hair "done" every 4 weeks cause my roots are showing and I don't want anyone to know that I'm 44!!! I don't fit in with most women because I find it absolutely silly to sit around and gossip about Hollywood stars and Country Music entertainers, or who in the town is sleeping with who's husband or wife.
Those things are of no importance to me and I'm not sure why they are of importance to anyone else???
So, I wear my jeans and tee-shirts, my boots and my solid gold wedding band and I'm happy and I'm comfortable. I stay at home and keep my house clean. I cook for my husband every night. I take care of my children and when I have the chance, I read a good book...maybe two a day 'cause I can read fast. I mind my own business and I try to be kind and polite to everyone...BUT, don't think for one second that I'm a timid push-over!
If I'm nice to you, you damned sure better be nice to me because I will not be treated rudely, patronized, "put in my place" by anyone who has no idea where my place might be, nor will I allow these actions against my husband or children. When these behaviors are directed to me or mine, it is as if the real Bitch in me awakens and I am ready to bite someone's stupid little head off!
I hate control freaks and the "better than you" crowds. I detest being talked down to and having someone explain some trivial thing to me as if I had a single digit IQ. I find it intolerable when people assume they know everything about me simply because they know my first name, even if they've had twenty years or more of opportune times to really get to know me, yet have not. I have no use for these people.
If you make a promise, then keep it. If you can't keep it, then apologize. But don't just let it lie there with the other person expecting it and you not intending to keep it. This isn't only rude, it's cruel!
If you're having a bad day, don't lie and say "It's all good" when it truly isn't, then have people wonder why you behaved so hatefully...Be honest and tell them, "This is a piss poor day and my mood is not good. I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me."
And for God's sake, don't judge another person by the clothing they wear, the style of their hair, the car they drive, or even by what they might have done twenty years ago! Everyone has different priorities, different likes and dislikes, different tastes, different beliefs and everyone makes their own decisions in life based upon their own circumstances.
No one has any compassion anymore. I guess this is what gets to me, what eventually leads to my deepest, darkest bouts of depression...Sort of my "trigger".
One of my favorite people in the world is a drug addict. Drugs have robbed her of her looks, so she isn't even pretty anymore, but she is the funniest and most kind person I've ever met! I can't be around her any longer because she's so deep into the mess, but I miss her all the time. I still don't judge her and will always love her.
I know a man, have known him my entire life and have loved him just as long. He's an alcoholic and a drug addict, but I will always love him regardless. I know what he went through as a child and I understand his need to escape the pain and hide in a bottle or a joint or a snort. I'll never be his judge.
I know a woman who has had extramarital affairs and I still love her and will always be loyal to her.
I know a man who rants and raves, comes up with the most ridiculous ideas bordering on paranoia, and puts his family through hell. Yet I understand him better than anyone else ever will for we share some of the same demons. How can I possibly judge this man? All I feel for him is love and understanding.
One of the wealthiest and most astute individuals I've ever met was a man others called "white trash". He was always dirty, always drove an old junker that smoked so bad we just knew it was going to die at any minute and had more kids than Abraham was promised!
One of the wealthiest, most intelligent women I've ever known was also the prettiest. She made her wealth in a man's world, doing a man's job and never once did she compromise her morals or her integrity, though many were jealous and said she did. She wore jeans and boots and tee-shirts, was never bejeweled, was nice to everyone she ever met and didn't take no bull off of anyone. Today she has made her husband a wealthy man and is still a beautiful, faithful and devoted wife.
I think if people took the time to cast their judgments aside and search deep within themselves for a little compassion, a little understanding, a little acceptance this world would be a much better place to live and my depression would certainly abate!
Bi-polar is a chemical imbalance and my chemicals are balanced, it's just my joints and my life that is out of kelter.
And few, if anyone, understands or even knows these tid bits about me. Instead I'm labeled as a bitch...And while it does bother me to some degree, on the otherhand I think, "Oh, well! Walk in my shoes for a day and I promise you won't be angelic, either."
There are people who look at me and apparently view me as a simpleton because I don't strive to keep up with the Jones. I don't sit and dream about diamonds on my fingers, driving a Chevy taHOe, seeing George Strait in concert...(Give me a break, will ya? I saw him once, he was great. Why do I need to see him everytime he comes within 6 hours of where I live???) I don't wear "slacks" or Italian leather shoes or shop at Macy's or get my hair "done" every 4 weeks cause my roots are showing and I don't want anyone to know that I'm 44!!! I don't fit in with most women because I find it absolutely silly to sit around and gossip about Hollywood stars and Country Music entertainers, or who in the town is sleeping with who's husband or wife.
Those things are of no importance to me and I'm not sure why they are of importance to anyone else???
So, I wear my jeans and tee-shirts, my boots and my solid gold wedding band and I'm happy and I'm comfortable. I stay at home and keep my house clean. I cook for my husband every night. I take care of my children and when I have the chance, I read a good book...maybe two a day 'cause I can read fast. I mind my own business and I try to be kind and polite to everyone...BUT, don't think for one second that I'm a timid push-over!
If I'm nice to you, you damned sure better be nice to me because I will not be treated rudely, patronized, "put in my place" by anyone who has no idea where my place might be, nor will I allow these actions against my husband or children. When these behaviors are directed to me or mine, it is as if the real Bitch in me awakens and I am ready to bite someone's stupid little head off!
I hate control freaks and the "better than you" crowds. I detest being talked down to and having someone explain some trivial thing to me as if I had a single digit IQ. I find it intolerable when people assume they know everything about me simply because they know my first name, even if they've had twenty years or more of opportune times to really get to know me, yet have not. I have no use for these people.
If you make a promise, then keep it. If you can't keep it, then apologize. But don't just let it lie there with the other person expecting it and you not intending to keep it. This isn't only rude, it's cruel!
If you're having a bad day, don't lie and say "It's all good" when it truly isn't, then have people wonder why you behaved so hatefully...Be honest and tell them, "This is a piss poor day and my mood is not good. I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me."
And for God's sake, don't judge another person by the clothing they wear, the style of their hair, the car they drive, or even by what they might have done twenty years ago! Everyone has different priorities, different likes and dislikes, different tastes, different beliefs and everyone makes their own decisions in life based upon their own circumstances.
No one has any compassion anymore. I guess this is what gets to me, what eventually leads to my deepest, darkest bouts of depression...Sort of my "trigger".
One of my favorite people in the world is a drug addict. Drugs have robbed her of her looks, so she isn't even pretty anymore, but she is the funniest and most kind person I've ever met! I can't be around her any longer because she's so deep into the mess, but I miss her all the time. I still don't judge her and will always love her.
I know a man, have known him my entire life and have loved him just as long. He's an alcoholic and a drug addict, but I will always love him regardless. I know what he went through as a child and I understand his need to escape the pain and hide in a bottle or a joint or a snort. I'll never be his judge.
I know a woman who has had extramarital affairs and I still love her and will always be loyal to her.
I know a man who rants and raves, comes up with the most ridiculous ideas bordering on paranoia, and puts his family through hell. Yet I understand him better than anyone else ever will for we share some of the same demons. How can I possibly judge this man? All I feel for him is love and understanding.
One of the wealthiest and most astute individuals I've ever met was a man others called "white trash". He was always dirty, always drove an old junker that smoked so bad we just knew it was going to die at any minute and had more kids than Abraham was promised!
One of the wealthiest, most intelligent women I've ever known was also the prettiest. She made her wealth in a man's world, doing a man's job and never once did she compromise her morals or her integrity, though many were jealous and said she did. She wore jeans and boots and tee-shirts, was never bejeweled, was nice to everyone she ever met and didn't take no bull off of anyone. Today she has made her husband a wealthy man and is still a beautiful, faithful and devoted wife.
I think if people took the time to cast their judgments aside and search deep within themselves for a little compassion, a little understanding, a little acceptance this world would be a much better place to live and my depression would certainly abate!
Friday, November 2, 2007
I'm too old...
Every evening Logan and I play "ball" in the den. I sit on the edge of Larry's chair, Logan sits on the steps and then we bounce the basketballs back and forth to each other. I actually enjoy it myself! But, sometimes the ball gets away from me and anyone that knows me knows that I have difficulty standing up as my hip and leg "catch" and it takes me a while. It's all due to sciatica and I've lived with this for years...
Well, tonight Logan bounced the ball towards me and it hit the corner of the coffee table and bounced across the room. I attempted to get up and retrieve it when pain stabbed through my hip and leg and I couldn't catch my breath or even get up. Logan immediately saw I was in distress and jumped up, running after tha ball and said, "Mommy, you're too old to get up! Sit there and I'll get it 'cause I'm not old like you." After he got the ball he came back to me, kissed me on the forehead and told me sadly, "You are just too old, Mommy. Just sit there and be old and I'll get the ball for you."
I was so tickled all I could do was giggle and cry:)
I used to be just TIRED. Now I'm TIRED and OLD!!! But I sure do love Logan and his childish innocense and honesty!
Well, tonight Logan bounced the ball towards me and it hit the corner of the coffee table and bounced across the room. I attempted to get up and retrieve it when pain stabbed through my hip and leg and I couldn't catch my breath or even get up. Logan immediately saw I was in distress and jumped up, running after tha ball and said, "Mommy, you're too old to get up! Sit there and I'll get it 'cause I'm not old like you." After he got the ball he came back to me, kissed me on the forehead and told me sadly, "You are just too old, Mommy. Just sit there and be old and I'll get the ball for you."
I was so tickled all I could do was giggle and cry:)
I used to be just TIRED. Now I'm TIRED and OLD!!! But I sure do love Logan and his childish innocense and honesty!
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Wandering Through Life
My favorite quote is from J.R.R. Tolkien..."Not all that wander are lost."...Strangely, an email pal of mine pointed out recently that THIS is MY quote for life! She said, "Jennifer, You're a wanderer by nature, traveling many roads, seeing many sights, and yet you are never lost, but instead completely in your element."
Maybe she's right...
I've always believed in taking the path less traveled, the path that is filled with risks and the path that most usually gets me laughed at, made fun of and pitied. My internal compass guides me away from the crowds and the fads to pursue something more worthy, something more important, something more magnificent than the ordinary and the mundane.
Few understand me, and still fewer even try. I think people are uncomfortable with a courageous soul who seeks more than the ordinary and I think that people fear a person who does not fear to take chances in pursuit of a dream.
When I was 18 I lost a dear friend when I answered her truthfully. When I was 21 I lost a lifelong friend when I answered her painful question with complete honesty. While I was saddened that the friendships died, I've never regretted being honest with either person.
A few years ago my husband and I had problems and against the advice of just about everyone, I gave him another chance...And I've not regretted taking this "risk". Today our marraige is stronger than ever.
A few years ago I was advised by a family member to "forget" about my grandson...I refused and now he is my son. His life is better and mine is headed in new directions...Wandering sometimes blindly, but still standing and still moving ahead!
Twice my husband and I have made major relocations and both times we have been warned against the "risky" moves, laughed at, talked about, browbeat and admonished...And both times we trudged ahead and against all odds, our lives became better and we've grown together.
Now we are attempting to put our biggest dream and riskiest relocation in motion and let me tell you, we have been met with pure hell from family, so-called friends and business people in our community. Only a handful of true friends and loving family have encouraged us and understood our decision... I will always be thankful for their support and prayers. It's not that I don't want to be HERE, but I want to be THERE more!
Dreams don't come true until a person is willing to step out in faith, with courage and boldness and pursue that dream with lots of prayer and nerves of steel.
A wandering person only becomes lost when he quits dreaming!
Maybe she's right...
I've always believed in taking the path less traveled, the path that is filled with risks and the path that most usually gets me laughed at, made fun of and pitied. My internal compass guides me away from the crowds and the fads to pursue something more worthy, something more important, something more magnificent than the ordinary and the mundane.
Few understand me, and still fewer even try. I think people are uncomfortable with a courageous soul who seeks more than the ordinary and I think that people fear a person who does not fear to take chances in pursuit of a dream.
When I was 18 I lost a dear friend when I answered her truthfully. When I was 21 I lost a lifelong friend when I answered her painful question with complete honesty. While I was saddened that the friendships died, I've never regretted being honest with either person.
A few years ago my husband and I had problems and against the advice of just about everyone, I gave him another chance...And I've not regretted taking this "risk". Today our marraige is stronger than ever.
A few years ago I was advised by a family member to "forget" about my grandson...I refused and now he is my son. His life is better and mine is headed in new directions...Wandering sometimes blindly, but still standing and still moving ahead!
Twice my husband and I have made major relocations and both times we have been warned against the "risky" moves, laughed at, talked about, browbeat and admonished...And both times we trudged ahead and against all odds, our lives became better and we've grown together.
Now we are attempting to put our biggest dream and riskiest relocation in motion and let me tell you, we have been met with pure hell from family, so-called friends and business people in our community. Only a handful of true friends and loving family have encouraged us and understood our decision... I will always be thankful for their support and prayers. It's not that I don't want to be HERE, but I want to be THERE more!
Dreams don't come true until a person is willing to step out in faith, with courage and boldness and pursue that dream with lots of prayer and nerves of steel.
A wandering person only becomes lost when he quits dreaming!
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