Grace Is A Blonde

I've decided Grace must be a blonde.

How else could she impart such wisdom and yet be totally unaware that it is wisdom she imparts?

Ohhhh, the life of a thinker!

The Waves

I sat with Grace today for a long time. She gives me such hope and inspiration. It isn't often that I've been aware of happenings around me. But now it's becoming commonplace. Many people would liken it to being anesthetized. Surely I was in some manner. But that is all gone now and Grace puts perspective on my life.

I read an article about never reaching full potential. Of course, it was centered around the money issues of life. I read them sometimes to try to inspire myself. It usually doesn't work. But there was something odd about this particular one. I am convinced I was 'supposed' to read it. Some would argue that point, but they would sure look silly sitting there arguing with themselves. I would find no reason or desire to have to engage in battle over such a thing.

After I read the article (about having a million dollar idea and never doing anything with it), I sat with Grace. One idea after another flooded my mind. And that's just how that works. They come 'out of the blue' it seems. And such is the overflow of creativity. At first I was astounded. The mind did its tricks trying to convince me that it just wouldn't work, but I pushed them away. I wrote the ideas down writing faster and faster. And when they stopped... they just stopped.

Exhilaration was left behind by the experience. And a peace and a calm followed. I sat with Grace and just let the waves wash over me one after another and I felt cleansed...

And I wondered.... I wondered...

The Senses

What a difference a few days can make, God. Sometimes, it's just a few hours... maybe less.

Wounded hearts can mend. Hard feelings can disappear. All I ever have to do is trust in you.

Why is that so hard for us humans to do? Why do we resist when we know inside that it's an exercise in futility? We're ecstatic with this thing called free will. If you ask me, it's a big pain. I long for those days when I trust you completely. I yearn to feel a sense of belonging and rest. Why do I fight you so?

The great mysteries of life, huh? Eyes to see the miracle of love, ears to hear the joyous spirit sing, tongues to encourage the downtrodden, noses to smell the sweetness of freedom and arms to hold our loved ones ever closer. What else could we possibly need aside from you? And yet we make it all so very complicated.

Why'd you do that?

The Wounded Heart

Can you hear me, God?

I'm not acceptable to my friend. "How can that be?" I wonder. And yet, that is what was said.

My heart hurts. In whose eyes does the rejection matter anyway? Not yours. Only mine, I guess.

My mind goes back to days where nothing was acceptable in my life. And then there came a kind of peace that enfolded me when I discovered that I was acceptable to you even though I was badly broken. The truth was that it was because I was broken I turned to you and found the sweetness and joy no other can provide.

And as long as we're talking about truth, maybe the statement just showed me how unacceptable I am to myself. I work on that daily. You know that. But in a moment of carelessness, all that work seems to have vaporized. In reality I know it didn't. The wounded heart can't see. It can only feel the pain.

I will sleep now... waiting for a brighter tomorrow. Heal my heart. Make me whole.

Desiderata

I ran across this again today. Fitting I think considering the past week.

Thank you for allowing me to find it, God.