Do not ask my son for approval. People stare at him sniffing my hair and he could care less. The acceptance of God in our lives is not dependent on humans.
Sitting at church today, it struck me how critical humanity can be towards each other. I watched an elderly man act out. He disgreed about some dialogue. I sat quiet. How many times had I opened my mouth? How about thinking it, but not speaking it? Words spoken or not can divide.
I travel a lot. Getting out of my comfort zone brings me to different cultures and diversity. I enjoy meeting new people. Communication is key. I find a smile is most inviting. It is the best kind of approval. Maybe. I am happy.
I think upon myself and wonder how hedonistic I may be. That deep seeded place thinking only about being happy as my greatest approval factor. Can you relate?
Hiking the Issaquah Alps!
Do I need to look to the skys for my answer? Yes, and I also know my approval rating needs to be more like how my son looks at being accepted. It is with no thought of what others might think.
Let it go. Close my eyes and sniff away like my Luke! There will I find peace in God.
Building on last week’s post, Outsmarting Getting Old, I wanted to thank you for your expressions of concerns and sharing with me your own struggles. All paths can bring healing. It is finding the one that works well for our own needs.
Today this little vehicle popped up next to me to my surprise! What if I would have not seen that thingie and hit it while I was driving. Oh my the hurt, right.
“Yeah.” The flowers helped me concentrate on something else. Her death was heavy. His perspective was ..”death is final. That’s it.” I didn’t see it that way.
The curtains to the “other” side was torn down for her. Windows were opened when she took her last breath. My view is my friend’s death was a setting free. Not an end, but a new beginning.
There is no forgetting her. Family will not. Nor will friends. Nature will keep her alive in my mind. My concentration is on God’s natural beauty while I remember. Released from the earthly pain, I catch my breath.
Today is all I have and will make it count. Ready for a day for God to show me the sun as I walk and smell the roses for her.
Memorial Day was quiet year. No shopping. No festivities. No struggles either.
As an Army veteran, spending time in the military was good for me. I did not realize it at times, but glad now. This plaque sums up how all of us should be committed to not dumbing down America.
Consider hard about an individual assessment. To self-evaluate ones characteristics can be a successful strategy. The best advice I can give from self-learning is to slow down. Age may have accomplished that for me. I prefer straight shooters, not those who live their lives unable to challenge themselves.
As a blog writer, I am not into writing for just anyone. I am into it for me. We have free speech ( thank a soldier here would apply) and I am damn glad of it.
It is good though when I hear from readers about how a certain post has inspired. I just passed my five year mark with writing. Its a true labor of love and I like to think my personality matters in my words to you.
I do not like fakes and have attempted to be an encourager. However, I do write in very deep lonely places, but it is in those writings I find my way back.
A friend gave me advice about being single. I liked it. The advice was about coming to terms with being alone. Coming to MY terms is a work in progress.
I am driven to write. There is no exception even when unhappy with my words. I can not compare myself to those that have editors or proofreader’s to read their work before it is published. I even hate freshly pressed endorsed by this platform.
Why do I write these days? I received that lone comment that gives me pause. Hearing from a woman dealing with two rare brain tumors brought tears to my eyes. She seems to have a strong will and a determination in her spirit. If you are reading this, I am glad you decided to follow me.
I was born on Maxwell Air Force Base in Alabama. We left when I was six months old. My parents weren’t from Alabama. When dad retired from the army, we moved back from Hawaii in the 70’s. Last week, I celebrated my 54th birthday here for the first time in 25 years. I wonder what has changed in all those years.