movingforwardslowly

Bloodlines walk the earth.
Words fill the pages of books.
Books line the walls and shelves of libraries.
If forgotten, they gather dust.
A repository of stories and ideas, waiting for discovery.

Bloodlines carry the code of life, called DNA.
DNA carries the divine essence of life.
God's code, the divine, was gifted to us all.
We each carry his light within us.

This is not meant to be blasphemous.
Some will read these words and be offended.
This is not my intention.
My vision of God holds our almighty father,
The Creator of mankind, as the most sacred thing we have.

God's ultimate sacrifice was that he also gifted us with choice.
Our choices make us who we are.

Some choose to ignore the sacred light within them,
While others embrace it and set forth to strengthen
Their communities, schools, churches, and medical facilities.
They know that to truly honor God, our father, they must
Often let go of their ego.

Honoring and respecting God can be done in the privacy of
One's heart or in the bright light of a cathedral.

No human can judge the godliness or honest faith of another.
Only our Creator, our Almighty Father, has this power.

Micro versus Macro is a battle I fight frequently.
The curious me draws me into an online world
where I begin to explore new worlds.
 Esoteric subjects attract me and pull me along
into a deeper and deeper well of knowledge.
Finding the truth can be tricky.

My stomach saves me.
The grumble and rumble of hunger pulls me back
into my home environment.
Out the kitchen window a large hawk sits 
among the bare branches of a tulip tree.
Along the old wooden trellis under 
the old wild cherry trees a baby squirrel scampers.
My daughters calls to me, 
"When are you going to do my nails?"

The Micro surfing must stop.
My Macro world is calling out to me,
"You live here with your family."

The big picture is where I must live my life.
A mother's work must go on...

If we stop and listen to our hearts, they will lead us.
If we do not take the time to listen, we could lose our direction.
An eye for an eye is not the road to peace.
Forgiving and letting go will let us move forward,
and bring us closer to a finish line rather than
an endless loop of angry repetition.

God does have hands. We might not always see them.
If we listen carefully, we might hear the rustle of the wind.
His hands are large. He sees a bigger picture that we cannot see.
He might not always answer our prayers in the way we want.

What we want is not always what we need.

The last cake I made during this holiday break had to be thrown out.
It went bad before we ate even half.
We were too busy counting calories and saying "no" 
to ourselves.
On New Year's Eve I made a new cake.
This time I am making sure to eat one or two pieces a day,
...maybe more...
 I have decided that occasional hedonism is good for my soul.
This morning I had cake for breakfast.
I promise not to make it a permanent pattern.
I am taking my family's health into consideration
by eating most of it myself.
Back to work tomorrow.

Is this a rabbit or a hare?
Did you know that I can pull a rabbit from a hat?
To show you I will put one dove into the hat 
and wave my magic wand.
AB-RA-CA-DA-BRA...abracadabra...
One, then two, then three, and so on and so on..
Will arise and fly.
Do you believe me? 
Do you have faith in me?
It takes more than one to build a dream.  
Together we can make it real, a living breathing truth.

My hope is that we can build a kinder, safer
and more inclusive world in 2023.
It takes more than one to do this.
Have faith and do your research. 
Believe in yourself and believe in the "we".
There are many roads you can take 
that will lead you to the same destination.
Your dreams fulfilled!

The silver bells are sparkling on evergreen branches, 
tempting the curious cat.
The smell from the kitchen reaches his nose, 
and saves the silver bells from further exploration.
He jumps and turns as his attention shifts to the clatter 
of bowls hitting the kitchen floor.
Luck is on his side as his nose finds turkey giblets
scattered on the tiles. His speed outwits the cook
as he makes off with the giblets in his mouth.

He finds a hiding place in the children's playroom
and finishes his snack and licks his paws.
His luck runs out as Clara spots him behind her toy box. 
She has a small Santa hat in her hands.
She heads his way, calling out his name sweetly with her little voice.
He is not charmed for they have played this game before.
He is determined that little red hat will not go on his head.
He decides he had better run when he sees her big brother join the game 
with a camera in his hands.

He does make it out the little flap door in the laundry room.
He sees the dog house which can some days be a friendly place.
Today he spots a guest dog with a grumpy disposition.
The garage side door is not completely closed, 
and he squeezes through the opening.
He finds a soft spot with the clean car wash rags.
The richness of the giblets makes his head feel heavy, 
and he is ready for a nap.
He awakes with the clicking noise of the door
and he feels brother's hands lifting him off his pile.
Before he can stop it that fuzzy red hat is on his head.
He shakes his head but it has been tied under his chin.
He hears Clara giggling in the background 
and camera lights are flashing in his eyes.

He finally gets away as the garage door opens.
Grandpa sees his misery and takes pity.
He removes the fuzzy Santa hat, and lets him go.

Hopefully he can find a mouse to put under their Christmas tree.
He will delight with Clara's scream!