If you saw me would you speak to me? If you didn’t read my words on my blogs, would you turn around and say hello?
We all have visions of people dancing in our heads. Some of us were programmed from our parents or families, explaining what type of friends to have. Others have made their own judgements as adults.
Would it make a difference to you, if I was thin or fat? Would you speak or laugh? Am I tall enough, to short. Is my house not huge, and my car too old? Do you prefer me to live on the right side of town?
My mother judged my friends by their last names and I find myself slipping into the same pattern. I catch myself, and try to stop it, and sometimes I win.
What about my clothes I wear, would you accept or sneer, or come close or back away?
Is it important to you that you have a title with your job? Must you feel that you need to fit in? What if the only job you could land was a janitor job, would you be content with this? Could you sit with me and carry on a conversation, knowing I clean toilets?
I have learned from the experiences of writing, that I do not know any of you. Neither do I know anyone who reads my stories on my Facebook, or Twitter, Stumble Upon, LinkedIn, or any other sites that are out there to share with your life, but I have learned that age, what color you are, where you live, or work, doesn’t matter.
Jesus walked the earth, and talked to many. He never once thought that he should only pick nice areas, or people who dressed rich. Brand names on clothing was not an issue. He sat with many, and healed who asked. He didn’t stop to ask where do you work, what brand of car do you drive. He was accepting of all.
I have learned through the thousands of comments I read, that the people I feel connected to, the ones that draw me into their hearts, are people who love God, who don’t judge, condemn. Others have passed me by, and this is alright. God places people in my path of life for reasons and its perfect timing.
Some I have come to love without knowing the face, or very little information. Some of you I would ache from within, if anything was to happen to you, and yet I do not know you.
Wouldn’t it be nice if the people we knew in person, that live near or far away, could react towards each other, and accept us for who we are, and not try to change us?
I want to be like Jesus. I want to be a follower of him. He is the only way, the only direction, that makes any sense living here on earth.
I thank you my friends here at blogging world. I thank you for taking the time to read my words, to understand with your heart, and to accept me for all that I represent, without knowing who I am.
Faith is believing in something you can not see, and I thank you God for letting me still carry my faith, in this world that we live in today.
I turn around to see the tears
And ask why are they there
He tells me he is ready to go
That he no longer fears.
He speaks of mom and all his pain
And says he wants it gone
He says his life is of no use here
And has nothing here to gain.
My heart has cracked
As I see his tears fall
And hear the sadness in his voice
I must let him go, and not look back.
Some do not understand the ways
Of a human who wishes to die
We stand away and look from afar
And hope for him better days.
For those who know their time is near
There are no better days here
They have recognized life as gloom and pain
And want to be with the ones they hold so dear.
I wish for him with all of my heart
For his smiles to reappear
And I know without a second thought
That his smiles will return, when he does part.
I love my brother with all that I can be
I would not have missed a thing
The memories that I have buried with in
Are in the box, and only I hold the key.
I don’t know if you are right
About your time to go
But I will accept that in dreams or not
You are ready to see the light.
- Wherever I am… (khamneithang.wordpress.com)
- Ann Albers – Message From Ann And The Angels – 7 July 2012 (lucas2012infos.wordpress.com)
- For a Friend~ (crazzeediamond.com)
it touched my heart and soul
When life holds its breath
And the rubbish bin hasn’t been emptied yet
And the dishes haven’t been done again
And you hope for the unthinkable
That you will only be able to breathe again when he can’t
When your friends either overwhelm or discard you
When your family pities you and can do nothing to help, no matter how hard they try
You can always smash the lung balloon of life and make it breathe again
You can remember every single moment of your life with the person who is dying
Loud, boisterous parties in the kitchen with the stereo blasting
Discovering little bits of each others’ stories like drops of sweat or dew
A single perfect camellia
A cheeky half moon
A baby, now grown as upright as a karri tree
A child who doesn’t remember, but knows his father was not always as ill as now
View original post 242 more words