
In 2019, I’d never have guessed I’d have face masks hanging from my shower wall awaiting to dry.
In 2019, I’d never have thought of driving into our favorite North Georgia mountain town to find one great restaurant after another either closed early, have outdoor seating only, take-out only or have such dismal cleaning abilities that you’d not want to eat there.
In 2018, I never once worried about whom I could hug on a Sunday morning or whom I couldn’t, unless she was a visitor and then, I’d give it pause to not seem too much.
In 2018, I never once thought about how many people across the nation were dealing questions of, “Should I go or stay?”
In 2017, we had concerns around the world about sickness, desolation and fear; yet, we faced it together. We faced it with purpose.
In 2017, we glanced through the hour glass of time, wondering what the future might hold; yet, we glanced with hope, with promise for a better tomorrow.
In 2016, we had disagreements and didn’t see eye-to-eye; yet, that was a “normal” with which almost all of us could live. It was ok to disagree. It was ok to be at odds.
Life just went on.
I wonder how much has to change in 2020 to wake us up from our slumber.
I wonder how many have to be lost before we realize “that normal” is no more and “this normal” is here to stay.
We have to quit “glorifying yesterday” in order to live for tomorrow and be present in today.
We have to quit pointing the fingers and finding the blame in order to live determines and strong.
If we are to not simply survive…
If we are to choose to THRIVE, then, it starts with you and me…
It starts today…
And it must start now.
“Almost universally, when people look back on their lives while on their deathbed […] they wish they had spent more time with the people and activities they truly loved and less time worrying about aspects of life that, upon deeper examination, really don’t matter at all that much. Imagining yourself at your own funeral allows you to look back at your life while you still have the chance to make some important changes.” — Richard Carlson, Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff…and It’s All Small Stuff