Random Word Story #35 ~ The Birth of Her Future



I can’t remember ever feeling sane. If I try to imagine sensible days, I see flashes of 8mm film. There are kids running under sprinklers and babies taking their first steps, then someone smiles and blows out all the birthday candles. All goes dark.
I open my eyes hearing the movie film slapping itself with its tail and scream out loud. Slamming my brakes, the world spins beyond the windshield. That same world I’m unable to navigate, for once , looks just like I feel.
Stiff armed and legs locked, moments later I’m facing from whence I came. The following quiet is unnatural; no motor, no sirens, no bystanders…nothing. I’m on a road in the middle of nowhere. Just to test my hearing, I start whistling. Give my ears a tug too, just to see if I am alive. How else could I tell? Numbness had taken over years ago.

My headlights illuminate a tunnel.

“Oh, didn’t I mention it’s the middle of the night?”

The most pleasant voice I could ever imagine answers. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t race to conclusions like the others. Go on…”

I crack open the car door and the dome light comes on. In the rearview mirror, I notice my hat hasn’t lost its place in the chaos. Good old hat. It comforts me like my grandmother’s hand on my head when I was a child.

I normally shy away from dark places but this tunnel compels me toward it. As I enter, I can make out a light at the end. It beckons me. There’s nothing complex about a choice between darkness and light.

The tunnel narrows quickly until I feel squeezed. With no option of escape, I fold my arms and release myself from all trepidation. Weightlessness… this must be how pure joy feels.

“Rachel? Wake up…can you hear me?” The OR nurse taps the bottom of my feet. She speaks in a soft singsong voice. “The operation was a success, dear. No more brain tumor.”

Then, that most pleasant voice I could ever imagine whispers…

“I alone know the plans I have for you, plans to bring you prosperity and not disaster, plans to bring about the future you hope for.”  (Jeremiah 29:11)

The Whole Picture

a drawing of a 4 piece jigsaw puzzle
a drawing of a 4 piece jigsaw puzzle (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Life is a mystery. ”

I prefer to think of it as a jigsaw puzzle. The gathering of information and ideas for us to fit together, all the while, hoping to “get the picture”.

If you’ve ever made a jigsaw puzzle with many pieces, it seems an overwhelming task, at first.

Childhood teaches us to recognize the colors and shapes.

Adolescence is a time when we can start to recognize that flat edges go on the outside… a framing. But still, so very chaotic when we realize how many pieces are left to organize.

Adulthood is the time the sky pieces are bundled and, using the colors and shapes from childhood, we start to build.

As we move along, we make new bundles. Like pieces are organized, by color, giving us a plan and a vision of becoming whole. Then we start to examine the shapes because the shapes, are the true means that, enable us to build.

Colors are the events, both good and unfortunate, that we carry. Shapes are the way we react to and use the events. Learning to live takes practice and how we deal with events,( our scruples, our curiosity and our ability to forgive) give the shapes clarity and makes them interlocking.

Finally, we find that there are few pieces left. The organizing is done and there is an ease with which we build. A life, lived well, is now a beautiful picture. Even if a few pieces have become misshapen or lost, it is a wonder to behold.

Remember to help children to recognize and define. They will need that.

Forgive adolescent disorder and marvel at their framework, instead.

Enjoy the busy, colorful adulthood that you have worked for.

Take time to reminisce with the elderly, there’s much to be learned from people who see the whole picture.

Old News

Just as  Spring awakens,

 A world of golden hues.

Faded floras’ textures,

Glimpses of old news.

Gone but not forgotten.

Skeletons en mass.

Ancient beauty reckons.

Reflects life of a past.

Freshened are the seedlings,

Forgetting whence they came.

Old news is always welcome.

 Familiar not the same.

 A breeze, the dusty scatter.

Old news we’ve come to know.

Green colors life inspired.

As seeds of Spring will sow.