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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Laundry Time, Soul Starch...


My friends are all in various stages of life, and each of us has our own unique set of problems.

I was discussing this very thing with two friends the other day. One has a multiplex of relationship issues and is in the midst of trying to sort out the details, the other, well, she has some relationship issues, too.

Another friend doesn't speak the same language as her husband. Wait. That likely describes every married woman I know. Let's just say that her communication failures seem extraordinarily confusing. Another. Well. We probably all struggle with the fine balance of supporting, loving and respecting our men with varying degrees of success and failure waning and waxing with the phases of the moon and/or hormones. 

And that's just the marriage struggles. Pile on work issues, church issues, children, budgets, extended family, friends, health...oh we can have some problems.

As my friends and I chatted we all looked at each other and said things like, "I could not have survived what you went through." or "I think my life sucks, but it's nothing compared to yours. How can you even get out of bed?' Or, "I'd have locked and shut that door a long time ago." And an old story came back to me. Three women hung out laundry to dry. They compared their items, they lamented with the others stains and struggles, gave advice and listening ears. In the end, they all chose their own laundry, folded it and took it home.

When I look at the lives of others, I am amazed at what the human spirit can endure for love, or for sanity or for survival. Amazed. And when they look at mine, they may well wonder why I've made the choices I have.


Bottom line. We humans are stronger than we give ourselves credit for. The will to live, survive, thrive and love is a strong one indeed. When given the choice to choose faith over substances, peace over numbness, joy over bitterness, the survivors in life choose faith, peace and joy. 

Bottom line. Our paths are ours. And given the choice, we will still pick our path over our neighbor's. Our laundry may be stained and dingy, but it is ours and is permeated with our essence. We who will continue to live will choose our journeys no matter how difficult they may become.

So survivor. Put those feet on the floor, pray hard, slide on the freshly laundered big girl panties, make one decision at a time, and go thrive on that path. It's all yours, and for all it's bumps, potholes and ruts, you know you'd choose the same one.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

thank you
Xta