I attended a funeral today of a dear friend whose husband was in the chair talking to her, and then, he was gone.
On the same day he left, I made a call to my grandmother because it had been 19 years; since, we had to say goodbye to the love of her life.
In a few weeks, I’ll be present for my father’s memorial, to say goodbye and try to find the right shelf for the varied emotions.
Our lives are but a vapor, here today and gone tomorrow. Are you ready?
This is the month for awareness of miscarriages, infant loss and the fight of breast cancer.
My friend posted the other day the names of her three boys in heaven, and I added my oldest, too.
Just today, I counted five women whom I know personally are walking through, or who have just walked through, this painful and fearful journey; yet, each one of them have come out swingin’.
Our lives are but a vapor. Not a one is promised our next breath. Are you ready?
Don’t maintain that you’re invincible.
Don’t hold on that you’re healthy.
Don’t keep steadfast to the hope that you’re young.
We have no guarantee. We have no contract, no agreement, no treaty with death. He can come at anytime.
Yet, rest assured, he can only come when the Creator of life says, “Now.”
Lately, I’ve missed writing; yet, my heart makes the pen heavy.
It’s as if my soul has so many words bound within that it’s difficult to let them flow.
It’s as if a dam was built overnight, without my awareness, and now I’m stuck trying to open it.
I just want the river to flow freely. But my pen is too weary to begin again.
Pain seems to be everywhere my eyes wander; yet, the clouds cast shadows on the depths.
It’s as if I feel their agony, and then, I find myself wondering if this is pure or imagined.
It’s as if a dam has been erected in a moment of oversight, and now I’m struggling to crawl over the wall.
I just want to see the clarity through the mud. But my pen is too weary to draw the truth.
My fingers are desperate to grasp the medium, to spread freely, as the wings of flight once caged.
It’s as if I see the need, and then, my feet are too sluggish to make it across the line.
It’s as if a dam has been constructed and fortified, and now I’m left flailing in the wind, looking for the cracks.
I just want to write with fervor, escaping this reality while allowing it to reach from the ink into another land.
I need You to move, to break the barrier, to bust down this fortress. I need You to consume.
Why are you cast down, O My Soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance. O my God, my soul is cast down within me; Therefore I will remember You from the land of the Jordan, and from the heights of Hermon, from the Hill Mizar. Deep calls unto deep at the noise of Your waterfalls; all Your waves and billows have gone over me. The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the night His song shall bewith me—
I love roses. Really, I love flowers of almost any kind, but I’ve always been partial to roses, poppies and Gerber daisies.
Particularly, in red and hot pink… but these orange roses above are absolutely beautiful as well!!
And lately, I’ve been drawn to them more and more while being reminded of the phrase, “Stop to smell the roses.”
See, life has just been crazy busy lately. Busy in good ways, I suppose, but busy nonetheless. And I find my heart longing for a pause…
A pause for refreshment. A pause for reflection. A pause for renewal.
In everyday life, and especially, in the busy days of life, if you don’t have those pauses that bring refreshment, reflection and renewal, you might very well die. If you don’t die, you might drown in the heaviness around you. If you don’t drown, you might just grow resentful or depressed or burnt out.
You’ve got to pause. And you can’t pause with chaos in your head. You’ve got to pause away from the frantic. You’ve got to pause out of the panic. You’ve got to pause beyond the emotion and turmoil.
Get alone till you’re not alone anymore.
Sit still until you are still.
Breathe until you do breathe.
And then, inhale even deeper and smell those roses.
And then, take another minute to count them.
I promise you. If you’ll do this often, you’ll find you can face tomorrow a whole lot easier. … doesn’t mean tomorrow will be easier. It just means you’ll be a little stronger to face it.
I will meditate on the glorious splendor of Your majesty, and on Your wondrous works. Men shall speak of the might of Your awesome acts, and I will declare Your greatness. They shall utter the memory of Your great goodness, and shall sing of Your righteousness.
There was a girl who got through the day with routines, laughter. and some memes...chores, laughs, smiles, and some cats...food, naps, plus coffee too...then yoga for the win... a warm bath, some books, and You Tube📺-hdtj💜
My journey didn’t stop with mere time travel or writing; it led me to become one of the most sought-after empaths, a soulful psychic who reads the hidden depths of the human spirit. I’ve been blessed—or perhaps burdened—with an ability that allows me to feel the emotions of people from every corner of time.
I am a licensed psychologist based in Greece. My love for housekeeping has inspired me to create this blog about home management and family relationships. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!
Dedicated to movie nerdom, nostalgia, and soul invigoration. In the late 90s, I worked at Blockbuster Video where they let me take home two free movies a day. I caught up on the classics and reviewed theatrical releases for Denver 'burbs newspapers and magazines. Today, while raising two young, beautiful daughters with my amazing wife, I look forward to anything rated R and not Bluey. Comments and dialogue encouraged!
the grizzle grist mill 