Walking The Journey

The clouds looked liked long jagged white and grey streaks, with touches of darker black, which stretched across the skies.   They represented left over’s from the storms of yesterday, and announced the coming storms that will arrive this afternoon.    The sun shone with warmth and life, breaching through the clouds, declaring a new and glorious day.   All creation of nature seemed to be bright with greens and yellows and occasional color of flowers and flowering weeds, which held their own sense of beauty on a cool and welcoming morning.   I don’t know if all was truly brighter than normal or my senses and awareness were in tuned with the Creators creation this morning. “God of wonders beyond our galaxy, You are Holy, Holy. The universe declares your Majesty, And you are holy, holy”, echoes through my mind, the lyrics of a Third Day song.   The word that rings in my head is not holy as much as wonder.   I look around with wonder, of how can all thi...

While attending a conference last year, I met a dark skinned woman who told a story that so many in the ballroom had little to no struggle identifying with, I being one of those people.   She told a tale of growing up always feeling she was different from others around her, including those in her own house.   She would look into her father’s face; closely observe the contrast of color as she held her mother and fathers hands, the different features of her siblings.   She’d ask when reaching 7 years of age, only to be told that she was no different than they.   It wasn’t until her parents divorced, and in a both evil and misguided attempt by one of her parents to hurt the other, did the truth come forward.   She learned that she was adopted. She soon discovered she was Native, that her deeper complexion was   due to the genetic pigmentation of her Native parents, who’d she’d never be able to find, somewhere in Canada.   She spent much of the next 10 ...

“I have to do everything, it’s not fair”, echoes from down the hallway, as small feet stomp off in utter despair and anguish, bearing the weight of the world.   “You can’t tell me what to do”, softly follows in a whispering cry as a tired soul brushes her teeth, wanting only to go to bed, escaping late night exhaustion.   Oh, how being tired can transform a princess into a pain stricken creature of the night.   We all have our moments, our triggers, that if we are wise, we learn and embrace, to guide us away from negative emotional impulses that result in even worse decisions and regretful consequences.   Triggers are those little switches insides our brains, our bodies, and our souls that when flipped, invite the demons of another world to take over our beings and turn us into schizophrenic psychopaths. Learning and feeling our triggers can rapidly disarm the imps that sneak into our selves and drive behaviors down a road of colliding destruction.   Common tr...