Permanent Brushstrokes

Is it possible to be thoughtful and wise, and also be silly and lighthearted, all wrapped up in one personality? Personally, being of a serious nature, I think not. One is either thoughtful and wise, or one is silly and lighthearted. Our core being is created long before we are able to choose (in my opinion), and it is what we go back to, should we veer off and try our hand at being something we aren't meant to be. 

Yet, can one be of a serious nature, and still enjoy the fun, orneriness of lighthearted people? I think so. But for me, when trying to be funny, I fail big time. I am who I am, I suppose. The question plagues me from time to time, especially when I'm face to face with myself; trying to figure out how I ended up with this always doubtful, always questioning nature: Did traveling the road I did have anything to do with that? Maybe. Or maybe I was just created to be a serious one. We all have a story...a life lived, that begs to be heard. To be of value. Whether that be one of a silly nature, or a serious nature. Just simply to be loved for who we are. Right? Isn't that what we all initially struggle with? At least until we understand who we were created to be. Then, it's a bit easier to embrace and begin the work of aligning ourselves. Becoming the best "me" possible.

This may come as a surprise to many, but I have more quiet moments than loud moments. I'm more of a silent nature than of a verbal one. Surprised, aren't you? Don't misunderstand. I can be decently verbal, given the opportunity to address issues that I am passionate about. I do have "soap boxes" that I love to perch on occasionally. And I love to read. Everything from informative biographies, to fictional thrillers. But I think my most loved are those that ground me. The books I can relate to on a simple human level, figuring out life as we know it to be. Books on perspective. Books that cause me to breathe easy and give hope that I can do better. We can always do better...

An author I love reading is Andy Andrews. You may have heard of him. The books I have of his are these: The Traveler"s Gift, The Noticer, The Noticer Returns, and his latest, Just Jones. I'm reading, for the first time, The Noticer Returns. Call me crazy, but I swear, when I'm needing to hear something of real value, I get this urge to pick up a book I didn't know existed, or revisiting one I've had forever. Within the first few pages of The Noticer Returns, the author gets my full attention.

After a really hard day of cleaning fish on the Gulf Coast, tired, homeless, and cold, the story unravels as the author is making his way back to the Gulf State Park Pier where his shelter is, when he is joined by his friend, Jones. An old man that walks with him a lot and is mostly silent until he has something of value to say. He had a way that made one think in ways they never had considered. Jones could turn anything upside down and sideways until it became perfectly clear and made total sense. After sharing all the frustrations from his day, they came upon a place where there was no way around but to cross through a motel swimming pool area. Trying to be quiet so as not to draw attention, Jones shuffled along as usual as if it didn't matter to him being "caught". As they came upon the pool area, Jones unexpectedly pushed  him in. A few minutes after helping him out, he said, "Son, you are at this very moment in the biggest war you will ever wage in your life. It is confusing, but you're fighting for what you'll one day become. There are forces clashing for space in your head that you don't recognize, can't see, and won't understand until you're able to look back on the whole thing years from now."

Jones continues by saying things like "the little things DO matter", "don't let others convince you not to 'sweat the small stuff'" and the kicker..."When you ignore little things, they often turn into big things that have become a lot harder to handle." Not sweating the small stuff is indeed a lie that can, and most likely will, ruin our lives if we believe it. We just gotta attend to those small things before they become so big it's like chopping away at a mountain, trying to pass through it.

But this quote is what really settled inside me:  "Your choices, your words, and every move you make are permanent. Life is lived in indelible ink, boy. Wake up. You're making little bitty brushstrokes every minute you walk around on this earth. And with those tiny brushstrokes, you are creating the painting that your life will ultimately become...a masterpiece or a disaster."

Most days, we'll get pushed around a bit. Mentally, mostly. Sometimes it's of our own making, other times it's of someone else's mess we've attached ourselves to. It causes us to question the why's and wherefores of life. How we consistently respond to the things we feel to be injustice towards us, abuse, or just plain ole hatefulness coming from someone we believe in, will determine the path we choose to follow for life. 

Side Note: Unexpectedly getting "pushed in the pool" can either be refreshing and a clearing of cobwebs from our brain, bringing truth in focus, or it can be something that causes a deep need to retaliate, to make them pay. But...who are we really hurting if we retaliate, instead first considering the brushstroke we are painting? 

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

 

Idle Time

Mouth open keeps eyes open 🤣

Having more than a few spare moments today, I thought it might be "fun" to see how much entrance I could gain into the mind of the guy I've been married to for 50 years, 7 months, 6 days, 17 hours, and I'm not exactly sure how many minutes. I highly doubt anyone cares. Even me. However, this type of questioning has been fun in the past, why not see how we've progressed? Right? 😁 

Keep in mind that while the human mind is constantly processing information (regardless of the male species saying they aren't "thinking anything" when asked what they are thinking), there are times when conscious thought takes a pause, allowing for a state of relative mental quietude. So...I'll be gentle with the questioning. LOL. Right...

Here's today's line of questioning:

Q1. Where do you see us in 5, 10, or 20 years?  A1. Probably dead (the kid has a point).

Q2. What are some things you would like to explore or try together in the future?  A2. Nothing (😳)

Q3. What are your biggest fears about our relationship?   A3. One of us dying and leaving the other behind (Agreed).

Q4. How can we improve our communication and intimacy?  A4. Just try. (he hit the nail on the head with this one)

Q5. What are some ways I can support your dreams and goals?  A5. Go on an Alaskan Cruise with me and take a train ride in Alaska...and/or go to Colorado one last time. (Okay. I pick Colorado...but it will need to be a road trip).

Q.6 What is a favorite memory of us together?  A.6 The beach trip to Southport Oak Island, when Chuck gave us the key to his beach house, back in 2019. What a fun trip, meeting the townsfolk, walking down streets lined with amazing shops...and that great coffee shop we found that had the best coffee we've tasted in a long while. Such good memories of that place. Remember the dive we went to on the beach that had a live band?(Yes, dear. I do remember and I totally agree! Thanks again, Chuck!) 

Q7. What do you think is the biggest strength of our relationship?  A.7 We have the same belief system, trust, and loyalty (and I would add perseverance).

Q8. Is there anything you feel like you can't talk to me about?  A8. No (maybe because he knows my response would likely be a very long one, with several rabbit trails because it spurs another thought)

Q9. How do you think I could be a better partner?   A9. Can't think of anything (right 😉😂)

Q10. What's something you've always wanted to know about me but haven't asked?   A10. I know everything about you. (hmmmm...🤔)

I closed the questioning on that point. Do we reallllyyy know everything about each other? Maybe. But I doubt it. It's probably best that way. Some things just need to be between us and God. Those unspeakable events of long ago, don't need rehashing, or dredged up for all to know.

Well, this was fun! Until next time, here you will find me...in Mary's World. 

#lifeissues #ourjourneytogether #memories #beachtrip2019 

 

Next Chapter?

Last Saturday, as a dear client and I were conversing about my upcoming retirement from the industry that has been part of my life for the last 50+ years, I may have mentioned something about this being the last chapter of my life. I do believe in miracles, but at the same time I am pretty much a realist. Truth is a solid mantra of mine. Can't tolerate deception. Anyway...much like a good book, the last chapter should have the answers to the mysteries exposed in its previous chapters. Right? At least one would hope so. It should be the most exciting, yet sorrowful that it's ending, chapter. My client for the last 6 years, as she sat while color processed on her hair, looked up at me with the kindest eyes, and said, "But it may not be the last chapter. It may just be the next chapter. The next adventure." Crazy...I had never thought of that. It took me aback for a second or two. I've always seen life in segments; First, Middle, Last. Could there be another chapter before the last? Now I'm excited!

I will miss this client! I think coffee and maybe lunch must be in our future. She is more than just a deep thinker. She is a world changer, a person that rearranges others ways of thinking to come to the best solution for the problems at hand. A problem solver. I love how she sparks my thinking; how without even realizing it, she causes me to probe deeper in my own analysis of any given situation. I really love the thought of this being only "my next chapter", and not my "last chapter."

I think I may have mentioned in another blog post, that I also have a client who says she can't wait for the return of our Lord. But my heels are a little dug in and they're asking for more years, here, on planet Earth. I have all of eternity to be with God and all the Elohim. But to see our grand-babies grow to maturity, to be a part of their lives (no matter how large or small), is the desire of my heart. So, "the next chapter" sounds really, really good. I can wrap my head around that one. And my heart...

This has been the hardest page, in my book of life, to flip. While I do love a good book, and even though my own story is full of sit-on-the-edge-of-your-seat kind of things, I'm not quite ready to end it. So, turning the page of interacting with various nationalities, various personalities, various life styles, has been excruciating for me. Each one has added value to this life's journey. 

I began considering joining the ranks of the retired a little more than a year ago. But my fists were clenched with only a small amount of give to them. I held on tightly most days, feeling if I loosened my grip I would be entering the last phase of life, and who's ready for that?! 

As the year progressed, small things began to reveal a path forward. Away from all I had known my entire life. Work has never been a dirty word to me; it has been a privilege, a blessing that not all can navigate. But, as this last year wore on, God began to show His divine intervention. This industry had always been my feel-good place. My ego stroking place. My affirmation. My purpose. My platform. My escape. There was a lot of "MY", even though I always acknowledged that it was by the grace of God that I lived, and moved, and had my being. I have always been grateful for the road He had prepared for me and couldn't imagine anything changing. I actually thought I would continue in this industry until my body could no longer tolerate it. "Retirement" just wasn't in my DNA. I love to work! Give me something to do, other than idle the hours away where the mind goes south and the body soon follows.

I'm still not 100% sure what the future holds for us, but I'm here for it! Maybe a small greenhouse in our backyard, where our grand kids used to play on the WoodPlay Swing Set and Tower that nestled under the trees and the beautiful Wisteria dropped its petals in season. Maybe that will become a reality and our littles can help seed, plant, create, and water. Wouldn't that be fun?! It's already a vision in my minds eye. I can see the layout clearly. The inviting blooms and plants that surround its base, with ferns and lights hanging from the attached pergola. Maybe some pavers joined together and strategically placed to hold a couple of chairs and a small fire pit for when the cooler temps hit North Carolina. 

And who knows...maybe a trip to the mountains will be in our future.

No matter where life takes us, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

So...the Deed Has Been Done

My emotions have ran the gammet this past week; even more so since the announcement that few saw coming. Granted, the big decision has been playing ball with me for some time now, and up until last week, I had always won. Many debates as to why I should, and why I should not, have been voiced. Lovingly voiced. Time, and time again...

And now, here I sit, stirring the mushrooms in my coffee with the cinnamon stick that sits lazily in the coffee cup until needed. I'm tired. Very tired. Not only did what I thought to be allergies/sinus issues, turn into a full blown head & chest cold, sleep also, has escaped me for nigh on a week now. I'm tired. Really tired. Yet, I force my body to come under subjection and move forward. Except for this moment. Needing a chair to take the weight of my body off my feet, at least for a moment, I chose the tried and true; the faithful office chair. I do love my office. My study. My hide-away. I do.

Still coughing up a lung and a half, I navigated the back-and-forth of STAY OUT OF MY SALON messages over the weekend. Yet, the messages just weren't taking hold, or they hit more than one wall and was took out, never to live. I'm a person that always crosses my "t's" and dot my "i's". It's the best I can do to preserve my way of life. Yet the unexpected has a way of happening, regardless of how hard one tries to escape it. And therein lies my distrust of humanity. Even my own humanity...sometimes.

To say I am super happy that I installed a Foscam (that's a story for another time) inside my studio, is an understatement of mega proportions. As I think about the ramifications of what would have happened, had it not been on duty yesterday, makes me take deep breaths of gratitude, when I can get one. A deep breath, that is. That sweet little addition caught workers hired to upgrade a few things (floors & mirrors), in the process of taking my salon apart, piece by piece. Most likely, I startled the begeebers out of them when my groggy, hoarse & raspy voice (that gurgled and sneezed occasionally from irritated nasal passages), came yelling through the small voice command center. "STOP! WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!!" I tried calming myself, as I knew it wasn't their fault. They were there to do their job as ordered, and with a tower of jewelry in their careful hands, they froze in place. It appears that I wasn't the only one who has cut the cord...if you know what I mean. It's likely you don't, 'cause I'm not always clear.

I have spoken to several of the workers, off and on, during the time they have been in the studios, tearing up and replacing. They seem really nice, so I'm kinda sorry I yelled at them. But I wasn't sure if the thing (the Foscam) really worked or not. It was the first time I had to use it. So I yelled. I was suppose to, right? They showed me their work orders, so I had to be the mean suite owner, and assure them I had covered the confirmation of putting my studio renovation on hold until I moved out, aka/closed my business, and to please contact their supervisor.

Did I mention how tired I am? Anyway...I had to push my body out the door and head to the salon, a 7 minute drive that happened in 3. Maybe 4. They had indeed stopped removing, and had gotten everything back in the studio by the time I arrived. All I had to do was reposition and re-clean what had been moved out. I survived...

So...back to paragraph ONE of this rabbit trail:

    The deed that had been planned to run so smoothly, the RETIREMENT on my 78th birthday announcement, had suddenly taken a deadly turn. 

        Not a good turn. The social media content had launched before it was suppose to since I didn't "schedule" it. My fault. Kinda. 

When I am deep in thought, 

            deep in the mix of whatever is needing done; 

                        to be distracted in the middle of it, well...I can't be held responsible for what transpires.

So, that happened last Sunday. Throbbing headache, blurry eyes, and achy body had to move quickly. Something my brain wasn't ready for. The emails had to be sent (since social media had been notified) without being as complete as I had planned. I suppose another email blast is in order for a bit later.

Something (business room mistake), I suppose, had to be added to the mix just to make this whole thing a memory hard to forget. Gotta love those memories. The good, the not-so-good, the undesirable.

I am soooooo tired of laying in bed, but now I think it's calling me again. But first, where's the Tylenol?

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

A Letter to My Dennis

Dear Husband:

December 14th, 1974 was a day etched in the journals of our history. How did we get to 50 years?! I do know we have lived all these years together, but looking back, it seems not that many.

A statement I hear from time to time is: "You're so lucky you have such a good husband . . ." If I've heard this once, I've heard it a million times. Have you ever heard how "lucky" YOU are for having such a great wife? Hmmmm...

Nooooo...

I think you will agree with me that luck has nothing to do with it.

There's nothing lucky about our marriage.

It's been a lot of hard work! Right? I really wish people would stop painting the picture of a happy marriage that doesn't come through hard work. Or a marriage that has succeeded because of only one person of the two people involved. One can't be coddled while the other sacrifices. Marriage is a unit where two become as one. Or, that's the goal, right? They always have each others back. There is no other person more important than our mate, and they need to know that.

Any couple who has a healthy, happy marriage that has lasted 10, 20, 30, or even 50 years didn't get there by luck. And ours hasn't always been happy OR healthy. Those first 10 years, or so, were pretty rocky, wouldn't you say? 😉🤣

We didn't just stay happily married from the get go.

We sacrificed.

We forgave.

We rebuilt trust that was broken.

We apologized.

We kept trying.

We got help when we felt stuck

    (Thanks, Denny & Becky...😉)

We kept dating, or at least took stabs at it occasionally. Life is busy when there's a family and money is scarce.

We got help when we were stuck. Yes, I know I've already said this, but I also know how weary you became with me, occasionally, and I do understand why...now.

    (Thanks again, and again, and again, Den & Beck...)

We made time for each other when we had come to the end of ourselves. We should have done better, but here we are. Plenty of time for each other now, wouldn't you say? 🤣🤣🤣❤️

We learned how to communicate. Boy, was THIS hard! Still, we've gotten so much better at it now that the work is almost finished. Maybe that was God's plan all along. Iron sharpening iron until nothing could harm us. Until realization hit that we always had a choice. We could withdraw, or we could work it out. We finally realized we are two completely separate people in the throws of becoming as one. Remember the days when we argued about nothing specific, but you would apologize and ask me to forgive you, even if it was an innocent thing? You never liked going to bed angry with me. Or me with you.

We cared more about our marriage than our pride. Pride was a tough one, for the both of us. Amazingly, our self-pride has now been replaced with admiration for each other, and pride BECAUSE of each other. Thanks for cheering me on during the darkest days of our marriage, especially when I needed it, and for taking the blows from my mouth that must have hurt deeply when I couldn't understand your position on any given matter.

No, there was nothing lucky about our marriage.

We worked.

We worked hard for one another.

The truth is—there is no happily ever after without the blood, the sweat, and the tears.

The truth is, you can't get to happy without going the hard way. Without self-sacrifice. Without selflessness. Without preferring the other above ourself. We are not perfect as we are. Life is a journey to be enjoyed as the kinks are worked out. Right?

I'm eternally grateful for you, DW. I'm grateful that your love for our God outweighed the messy moments. I'm grateful that He was the center of all we did, even when we weren't really listening so well. I'm grateful that God put together two people that was an unlikely match. I'm grateful He knows us better than we know ourselves, and is willing to stick by us in the great times and the growing times.

Our marriage is worth working for. Don't you agree? I wonder how many thought we would never stay together. I'm sure there was a lot of prayer going on for us. 🤣

Life has been a very intriguing, interestingly adventurous journey with you DW. And it keeps getting better and better. I can honestly say "I love you" now, with the true definition of what love is. No flippant "I love you" coming from me...

Do you remember the "Love Chapter" found in I Corinthians 13? It was read aloud as we left the wedding ceremony, some 50 YEARS AGO! It felt like a challenge to us at the time. We finally get it! Here's to our future!

Your One and Only,

MJ

P.S.

There is so much more I could say about the last 50 years. So much more of the life we have lived...always together, never apart. Possibly there will be more blog posts as the months & years go by. Posts that share some of the great things you have done, my dear husband, and continue to do, for our family. Happy 50 years with me! Sainthood may be yours...

#faithfullyyours, here....in Mary's World

My Prayer for the Aging

Let's not kid ourselves. Life is fleeting. We don't realize it in the moments of the day, nor when hours seem to never end. Moments, and hours, when quietness overtakes us. Moments when we feel the loneliness that runs deep because of losing someone we've lived with for most of our earthly life. Moments, that turn into hours, when the realm we find ourselves to be in, turns deathly quiet for lack of human connection. It's just you and the air you breathe.

Sure, there are passersby on the lonely street that runs in front of your dwelling. Sure, the sun does come up every day, even when the clouds cover it. Sure, we still have those memories, that are on constant replay, of days gone by. But how long will it be before we actually feel another's arms wrapped around us? How long before another actually wants to be with us? How long before someone will want to hear about our memories, or simply want to engage us in conversation, as they share their own life with us?

Survival comes in many forms, yet the best one I have found, as the years are whizzing past me, comes from within. God has provided us with a way of escape. From all things fearful. And He instilled it deep within our spirit. Aging need not be fearful.

My prayer for you is this.

• May humanity (especially those you love) remember there is a young person that lives inside your aging body.
• May you age gracefully, never forgetting who you are and whose you are.
• May you appreciate the rising of the sun. Even when the clouds try hiding it.
• May you breathe fresh air daily. Memo: This requires getting out of the house even when you don't feel like it.
• May you continue to live life to the fullest your body will allow.
• May you hear the birds rejoice because you are listening to them.
• May you feel the breeze comfort you, as it gently blows softly around you.
• May you always know when a mosquito is about to draw your blood. Then destroy it. I still haven't found a purpose for those mean suckers.
• May you always kick the rocks to the side of the road.
• May you always remember that you have been loved by another. Also, Read Romans 8:38-39.
• May you always pray for those you know nothing about. And for those you know so much about.
• May you always see the beauty right in front of your eyes, regardless of what is happening around, and possibly to you.
• May you continue to give love away. Memo: Resentment comes easily. Love is a choice (a bit harder, but doable).
• May you never fear falling. It's okay to fear getting back up. But get back up!
• May you always speak the name of Jesus when fear tries to over-take you.
• May your children (or anyone, really) remind you of this prayer should you forget.

As always, here you will find me, kicking rocks...in Mary's World

P.S. Anything you would like to add? Go ahead and leave a comment, if you wish. 

Am I Anything Like Her?

My morning walk took me back to my growing up years. The last couple of days have brought my emotions to a quiet reckoning. Emotions I haven't felt in awhile. Emotions that brought tears to my eyes, and because it's only me on the walk, I let them have their way. 

I wondered what her life had been like. If she was happy. Did she have moments of sadness that tried to overtake her? How on earth did she raise 10 kids?!!! Was she able to spend any amount of time with them, or was she constantly doing the work that needed done to raise those little ones? That's how I remember her. Always busy with providing for us. Maybe she was able to spend time with the first 5, but I don't remember ever having time with just her. I don't recall being read to, snuggled, or purposefully taught anything, other than how to survive by putting in the work. Maybe all those things happened. I just don't recall them. But, oh how I loved my momma!

Do I act like her? Would anyone that knew my momma say that I reminded them of her? I'm pretty sure I'm more aggressive than she was. She seemed so shy, quietly going about her household duties that included planting and caring for a huge garden and harvesting it, taking care of the hen house, the cooking (from scratch, no less), and cleaning. Doing all that laundry, on a scrub board for many years, and eventually a wringer washer, then hanging her labor out on a clothes line to dry. She loved flowers. I do remember that. She cared for them much like a mother cares for her children. She spoke to them. Nurtured them. They were her escape. Looking back, I'm so glad she had one. 

In the knowing of how to get things done, I can lean a bit towards a demanding attitude, even if it's only of myself. I suppose others may misunderstand my thinking patterns and become defensive when asked if something has been done yet. I don't even realize my inquiry is coming off as controlling. Maybe even as if I think lesser of anyone who isn't constantly working. However, I do think I have become more mellow as the years have flown past. You may even find me on any given day, when away from the salon, not doing much of anything. And it drives me crazy! I feel as if I've thrown away a day I've been given to live. I suppose it's in my DNA. But I do try relaxing more these days...

Do I look like her? There are times I catch a glimpse of her in my reflection. Maybe it's because I want to. Maybe I look hard for it. For anything that reminds me of my mom. She was a gentle soul. Me, not so much. I do love with a whole heart, but gentleness has never been used to describe any of my attributes. Can a heart be gentle, yet express demand? There are times I feel as though I'm a mix, half and half, of dad and mom. Stands to reason. Right? But where does my individuality come into play?

I wish I had her laugh. That is my favorite memory of her. Her laugh. She spoke with gentleness, laced with anxiety at times. The years took their tole on my mom. As they do most of humanity. We change mentally and physically, as the seasons of life come and go. The storms hit us directly in the face, occasionally. They weather us. Right? They grow us up, so-to-speak. Yet, to see my momma smile and then laugh, was priceless.  

As I rounded the corner of a major roadway, this morning, I felt as though she was walking beside me, telling me how much she loved me. And we spoke about Danny. Dan was/is my brother, born 2 years before me. I've been looking for him for the last several years. Maybe it's been 5, or more. We used to speak with each other at least once a year, but usually 3-4 times a year. He lived in Texas, last contact with him. Mom worried about him so much. He was a runaway at 16 years of age...much too young to be on his own. He did make it through those tumultuous years, married, and had 3 boys. Divorced, Remarried (3 or 4 times), last count. I do wish I could find him. Was mom trying to tell me something about him? Is he with her?

If there is anything in me that is like my mom, it is that she was a big time worrier. Same! I've been accused of looking for things to worry about. That triggers me. Makes me mad, actually. My dad used to say the same thing to my mom. "Why pray when you can worry," he'd say to her. I didn't find that funny then, nor do I now. I do know we should place our trust in the fact that God is for us, and not against us. I do know He is a loving God. I also know that life has its concerns. Its challenges. Its dangers. And even though mercy and grace follow us, we live in a world where it's a bit dangerous to stick our heads in the sand and simply ignore life that is happening all around us.

Would others that knew my mom say we are anything alike? How much of her was passed down to me? Because of her, I live. What part of her is me? She's been gone from this earth since March 19th, 1980. Born in the year that Oklahoma became a state (1907), she was only 73 years old when she left it. I miss her. What a beautiful soul...

Reminiscing, here you'll find me...in Mary's World. 

The Winds of Change

Have you ever felt as if the winds of change have begun to blow? Change is inevitable. Yes? But, has there ever been a time when all your senses have been alerted to the inevitable? This is me. Now.

So much has changed in the last couple of years. Covid19 brought with it an undeniable NEED for change. We all (well, most of us), listened and followed protocol. But, that is not what I am talking about.

There are "seasons of life" that we all must walk through. Some train us. Some educate us. Some prepare us for challenges to come. Not many of us can see the future, or foretell it. But some of us CAN predict it, if our spiritual eyes and ears are open to understanding, and our common sense is well attended. We can "see where this is going" kinda thing. 

What we can't predict is how we will get there. We can plan for it. We can prepare for it. We just can't see how it will all play out. But at least we won't be surprised when it arrives. There may be a few surprises along the way, but hey! Last season prepared us for it! Right?

I'm pretty sure I have lost many of you, if not all. "Is she talking about herself, or just in general?" Or, "I think the winds have blown her off her rocker." 😉I, too, wonder that myself, on occasion. 😂

I used to worry some, about the fact that I was quickly coming upon the marker that my female siblings arrived at, and then left the planet. I have now officially passed the years any of them were able to live beyond. The winds that I love, when they visit me, have left me standing here. For the time, at least. And I know I am going to get some push-back from my girls for even talking about this. But it is a reality of life. We are born, we live, we die. This is not meant to be morbid, but real. And the sooner we face that fact, the sooner we can live our best lives while stationed here. I've finally accepted the fact that I am on God's timetable, and I'll go home when He says it's time. And no sooner...

When we face the fact that life is short, will it make a difference? Will we continue to live our lives focused on ourselves instead of those we love? Will we make different decisions, based not on how it makes us feel, but rather on how it makes them feel? Will we see each new day as an opportunity, or just another day to deal with difficulties? Will we begin to understand that humanity is broken, and possibly defeated, and begin to see with eyes of compassion instead of hatred?  

The Bible says there are 7 things that God hates, found in Proverbs 6:16-19

• Eyes that are haughty (arrogantly superior)
• A tongue that lies 
• Hands that shed the blood of innocent people
• Hearts which plot evil
• Feet that run to do evil things
• People who lie as witnesses
• One who causes strife in his or her family (ouch!)

Now that we know all this, will it better prepare us for seasonal changes? The winds that blow through the years we've been granted, will they whisper "change" to us?

Listening to the winds of change, here you'll find me...in Mary's World