Not long ago while on a bike ride through Virginia a large predator bird like a hawk or falcon was seen flying off with a rodent. This rodent was flailing and fighting for its life as the bird flew higher and higher. Apart of me would like to see that little rodent fight its way out and escape the grasps of this powerful bird. Although, if that would to happen what are the chances that this rodent would survive? The talons on this bird most likely cause some serious wounds and internal damage, especially while the rodent was flailing, twisting, and turning trying to escape. Furthermore, if the little rodent did escape the grasp of these talons where would it run off to? This bird is flying upward near thirty or forty feet in the air if the rodent managed to wiggle its way out surely he would just plummet to its death below. It’s fair to say that the time for this rodent is very near and regardless of how much he fights he will not become victorious. Certainly, I am not saying that this rodent should stop fighting for its life, but maybe it was the wrong time to fight. Continue reading
There is a word that has been stuck in my mind for about a week now. It is one of those things where it is as someone was whispering the word over your shoulder. It becomes so real that it often could make you turn to see if a person was actually standing there, but you don’t because you know this voice; you are quite familiar with this voice because you have heard it many times before. This week it repeats the word “chastise” and several months ago it was “sins of the father” and some time before that it murmured that “you weren’t worthy”. Who knows what this voice of negativity will bring next or what this bully will say in attempts to slow my pace. I will admit it does do that; slow my pace. In fact, it can often stop me in my tracks and pull me into a darkness that lingers for days. Continue reading
I like to think there is a desire within each of us to be charitable. I feel we all want to help others even a little; some want to help everyone while others are very selective. I wonder is it sympathy or empathy that makes us want to help others. Maybe it is both or maybe some of us are prompted by empathy while others are prompted by sympathy. I must also point out that some only give if they feel they should receive something from the act of giving whether it be something tangible or be it mere praise and boasting rights. Some only give to show that they can. In addition, some are charitable merely to show that they want to be charitable not that they intend to give what the actually offered to provide. Continue reading
A few days ago, I received a notification from WordPress, the site that host my thoughts saying:
Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com!
You registered on WordPress.com one year ago.
Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.
Its seems hard to believe it’s been more than a year since I started using this forum to clear my head. I know that sometimes they are just words, but many times those word connect to feelings. A year ago, when it was suggested that I share my thoughts I figured why not see what happens. I felt that if I could get the thoughts out of my mind it might help me think about where I am headed rather than what’s holding me back. Plus, maybe by sharing my thoughts it will somehow help or at least relate to someone else. Continue reading
There is a funny thing about buses … bear with me now, let me finish. We all have those moments in life where we are standing in a stop waiting for some bus to take us to our next destination whether that maybe school, church, or work. For moments of our lives we pause and just wait for this to finally arrive. Those moments before stepping on the bus seem as if time moves slower and our patience grows thin. We are often led to believe that if we look more often at the time it will have no choice but to move a little faster. Our experience has taught us that we have little control on when that bus arrives so we basically left to wait as patiently as possible because we are led to believe for that moment at least that it is this bus we are waiting for that will take us to where we need to be. Continue reading
When I was a kid, I really didn’t know what “poor” meant. I didn’t fully understand what it meant to have so little you had to ask for help from others. Surely, there are those who have less and knowing that only shows you how much farther “rock bottom” actually is. As a kid, I remember the feeling I first noticed when someone else had something that I couldn’t have, it wasn’t fair and it became difficult to justify why other people had nice things and a big house and all that while we lived in this trailer in some park hidden outside of town. I also remember how it felt when someone gave us something, it was as if we owed them something for their kindness. There was always some “I” attached to the conditions when someone helped “us”. At times, there was a reminder of how someone took time out of their busy lives to help poor little us. They broke away from all their responsibilities and all their fancy nice things to get closer to the dirt and give us some helping hand. For weeks, months, and sometimes even years there would be some reminder that we should be thankful because they helped us. We should be grateful. We should be respectful. We should always remember that they helped us because they were not poor. Continue reading
My father had once told me this story about my youth. He explained to me that I had once climbed up the shelves of the refrigerator to stand on the counter in order to reach the cookies that he had hidden above the refrigerator. Then he laughed and said that for some reason I took the eggs and put them in the butter compartment on the door and when he opened it they fell to the floor. I found humor in this as he told this story during his final days; I had been an adult for many years at this point and this lost event in my life created a smile and time for us to bond further before his days ended. I am quite certain that when this happened he found little humor in it at all, I may have been better off leaving the eggs alone. I don’t remember this event and I haven’t been able to recall what was going through my mind at the time. Nevertheless, I am certain I got more than my share of cookies out of it, and probably a few moments bent over a knee. Continue reading