While I Was On Facebook

While I was on Facebook ....the sun rose over the trees in a golden wash of color...Beams of light filtered through the branches like yellow lace and the blue sky lit up with wonder.

While I was on Facebook...the season began to change. Leaves fell one by one, till soon there was a yellow blanket beneath the maple trees. Then a sweet breeze set them dancing in swirls against the garden.

While I was on Facebook...a good novel gathered dust.

While I was on Facebook...my children and grandchildren became a day older. They walked and talked and lived a beautiful life that should never go unnoticed. They were mine to love in all these wasted moments.

While I was on Facebook...I became dusillusioned and depressed with news of the world.

While I was on Facebook...time ticked by and I never got it back.

While I was on Facebook...prayers were left unsaid, gratitude was left unspoken and dreams were left unlived.

While I was on Facebook...birds were outside singing songs of wonder. Their colorful feathers spreading against the sky like weightless kites that knew no tether.

While I was on Facebook...I turned a day older, my hair a bit grayer, my body a tad weaker -my moments mostly forgettable.

While I was on Facebook...the day came and went, seasons passed, years flew, and life just kept shouting to me, " Live me! Please, live me!"

Prayer

Even when I was little, I knew that prayer was a powerful force. I knew that if your heart was true and sincere, God would listen to any request and honor it -if it was within His will or His plans for your life.

Every night- if I was't too tired from playing- I would pray for my whole family, starting with Mom and Dad and ending with whatever pets or neighbors pets that had snuggled their way into my heart.

I think I was about eight years old when my most fervent prayer was for some Sparkle Paints. Now, I know that sounds immature (and possibly blasphemous), but somehow I thought that single gift would make me happy. I mean, they weren't just paints! Not the ordinary primary colors of blue, red and yellow. They were infused with glitter that caught the light like a hundred rainbows...they sparkled with hints of navy and peach and emerald...they were alive!

Nowadays most kids would just ask their parents for something they want. But I knew that my Sparkle Paints just weren't in the budget. Coming from a large family of nine, special requests weren't going to be honored unless you had a broken leg or a concussion or something. And so, I prayed..."Lord, please send me some Sparkle Paints...and thank you."   

It seemed like a year had passed of my pitiful paint prayers, but one day I finally got them. Maybe it was my birthday or Christmas....I don't recall. But in my hands I finally held the most beautiful artistic tools ever made for a young girl! 

Looking back, I never once thought to pray for my country. I never had to pray for protection against strangers, terrorists, perverts, or the threat of war. I never feared our neighbors, strangers asking directions, or walking home alone from school. I never questioned what we were taught in history class, the safety of the food we ate, or the greatness of the United States of America.

I pray now. For families to unite. To pray together. To ask for things our hearts and souls need. To ask God to bless and protect us and our country as so much around us tatters and dissolves into sinful ruin.

Prayer is powerful. But it is a verb. It needs to be exercised....because it doesn't float up to heaven on its own.

Gone are the days when Sparkle Paints were my greatest want. Yet, even today, my heart is warmed by answered prayers. My good friend Rhonda is making a great recovery from a liver transplant. My kids have beautiful families. My health is good. After 40 years, I still love my husband deeply.

And the seasons still pass with all their miracles...and that invisible, gentle sweetness...

Thank You, God.

Intro

There's something both magical and bittersweet about the days becoming shorter. At its peak, autumn is a palette of water colors, dripping with warm hues of cinnamon and pumpkin...with soft brushes of a sweet blue sky and perfect puffy clouds. How can one not want to write about such wonder? Yet, how can one find time to write when they are soaking in all these miracles?

And to be honest, no words or fancy language can do this season justice...

This time of year stirs my emotions. Perhaps it's the knowledge that the year is too soon over....that what I meant to do, or say, or keep -was never done. It's a quiet sadness to realize there's so much unfinished business, unsung songs...unshared love.

Writing quiets those voices that say, " hurry, hurry, time is passing!" If I can only freeze these moments in bits of words, maybe everything will be okay. Maybe it will matter. Maybe it will save me.

So, here I am. Stepping out again onto blank pages. My heart is open. Can you see? Come visit, come stay...or take a peek and go away. Because I've Been Meaning To Write...and so....I am.