Please let the first day of change stick this time-

There is a day of contemplation- of finding the twists and turns and being so very angry at the people that lead you the wrong way while telling you they love you. Then you become ashamed that you listened to them instead of yourself. You trusted them instead of your inner voice screaming. You notice how it paralyzes you completely. The frustrations of friends and family feed the shame. You tune them out to get it together. You know in your brain that what they think doesn't matter when they only know a small potion of the story. But you heart knows it does. It's been more nearly half your life since you have been your own soul- potions here and there along the way, but not completely- not in 25 years- more than half your life- because of those wrong turns taken by people who believed they were doing the right thing comparing you, goading you, admitting they lead you purposely wrongly then wondering why you felt helpless and hopeless. You have a day like that and you start cleaning out your dresser. You throw out the threadbare and stained and too small shirts that have always been there. You finally throw them out. You don't have to keep them, just because they have always been there. You get rid of the shirts you should keep because they are good shirts and will keep you warm- doesn't matter if you hate the style. You get rid of those. You start folding what's left and it's surprising when you find a shirt you absolutely loved, you feel sexy in and it actually looks good on you. How could you have forgotten you favorite shirt, crammed and wadded under the ones long overdue to be throw out, gotten rid of, given back, just gone? Look at all that room for your favorite shirt- that makes you feel like you- that you now remember-

Good Shepherd Sunday

On Sheep- Sheep are helpless. Their only defense is to run faster than their brothers, sister, offspring. Sheep cannot protect themselves. Despite that, and with no effort beyond how it was created, sheep give of themselves to an even more helpless being; Man- a being who is incapable of producing anything usable of itself. Sheep clothe and feed man, though effort is needed to create the result. The raw materials are replenished and repeated until mankind can perfect the gifts given by helpless sheep. We as Christians are like sheep. We have a renewable resource to offer the even more helpless through our faith and generosity- to feed and clothe those who cannot produce of themselves. The herd must move, must change. It can not stay in the same place or it will destroy that which feeds it. It will befoul the water. The flock will die if does not continue to seek out a way to healthy lands. The shepherd see the flock's destination through forethought, experience, and intellect. The flock is unable to see as far as the shepherd. A shepherd cannot hope to accomplish this task alone. Dogs of similar size and shape guide the sheep. They can not be expected to give exact directions. They can not anticipate every gopher hole, hidden cliffs. Sheep dogs suggest, they encourage a direction for the flock. The dogs protect the flock, standing between them and danger defending because it knows the sheep are indeed vulnerable. When the shepherd is unavailable, he trusts his dogs to do their job in his place. The Shepherd has faith the sheep will be kept safe until his return.

Answer the question-

The group was asked "How do you want to die?" The consensus answer was "Surrounded by friends and loved ones." That does not answer the question; That is WHERE, not HOW. I want to die with the ability to have actually forgive others as well as myself. - to have reached my true goals and lived as I had been created to be. There is violence to the soul when these things are ignored. The group leader read an article about the convent in New York where aging clergy live out their last days. On the whole, the dying were of a sounder mind than most, required notable less pain killers, and other meds, and did indeed die peacefully. They had followed their chosen part, difficult as it was and been themselves. How do I want to die? With the satisfied peace of myself. The method, time, and place mean nothing.