We all have flaws
Things we need to work on
but if we start with a mindset of brokenness
We’ll always be swimming upstream
trying to keep up with the invisible Joneses
Instead, focus on Jesus
approach life with a perspective of self-love
Then life will become more a celebration,
Rather than a do-or-die situation
where every failure
sets you back a billion paces
This is not chutes-and-ladders, folks
It’s your life
Live it well
In my dream I am being chased by Sweetums, the muppet
down an endless hallway
I run and I run, but I can’t escape
so he overtakes me and gobbles me up
and I’m in the belly of this muppet
in the dark
saying to myself,
“It’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream!”
But I can’t wake up
and I don’t wake up until I shut up.
That’s when I finally awake.
Life is like that.
There are monsters in our lives
that we can’t outrun,
we can’t negotiate or reason with.
There are monsters we must embrace
Because they’re not monsters at all,
but rather instruments of change.
And change is scary.
But God is good.
He will get us through.
I’m always amazed by risk takers.
Some who know what they are getting into, others just dive in blind.
Of course, it’s good to be safe, but breaking down borders,
exceeding expectations, pushing the envelope beyond where the safety net lies.
These are the dreamers, these are the inspirers
these are the scouts, the trailblazers, and the visionaries
I am so grateful for all of them,
for because of them I see through the hedges,
to a bright view of tomorrow.
How lovely it is!
It’s not scary, it’s intimidating
It’s not scary, it’s hard
it’s not scary, it requires planning and prep
it’s not scary, it’s not cheap
it’s not scary til you take steps to make it happen
it’s not that scary
Some say the goal in life is happiness,
but there are times in life where anything worth doing
will be stressful, involve pain, and make you feel
very different from the happyhappyjoyjoy state we profess to desire.
I say, find the things you find of value, even when they cause you pain.
Pursue those. For life is short, and nothing worth doing is done with eternal ease.
So, help us Lord.
You walk laps around the house,
reading The Tempest with
such ease I’d swear you were reciting
As my eyes grow heavy and the night draws nigh,
Oh, “what dreams may come”
Bravo, orator. Bravo.
“All the world’s a stage,” the Bard wrote elsewhere,
and you stand proud at its center.
Walking barefoot through the sands of time,
I visit old edifices, machines of past lives that once seemed so daunting,
that are now rusted and falling back into the earth.
I stop to snatch a flower from out of the ground,
it smells of the fragrance of promise.
I take a deep whiff, absorbing it all into my pours,
letting the aroma saturate my pores,
before replanting the living thing back into the ground.
I start to spring, so fast that my lungs burn,
As I do so, I feel so alive.
I cry out, victoriously, words that are not words,
and I collapse into a waking state.
It is beginning of tomorrow, and I feel good.