Lately, I live with this "day late, dollar short" disposition. I say disposition rather than attitude because it feels so much a part of me that it's difficult to change it. Can I really change my life by thinking positively? Do all busts lead to booms?
At my age (which didn't feel old to me a couple of years ago but feels ancient to me now) can I really get up, dust myself off and start over? I feel more like giving up not starting over. Although, I'll admit the prospect of "hope" glimmers before me. Yes, that spark is still in my heart and I hope it is enough to light the fire and ignite the passion for life that I once enjoyed.
There was a time when I sang in the morning in spite of the hardships. A past time when the poetry filled missives I wrote filled me up and the darkest hour burst forth with a miracle sunrise. But right now it seems the chill of winter hangs ominously over me. Death has become more a reality in life than in death itself. I live most days in emotional pain and I feel the sharp bite of bitterness tear into my heart. Some days it feels like it would be easier to let myself be overcome and torn to shreds rather than turn and face my attacker. The warrior that once lived within me and wielded a sword is weary. I have grown depressed and discouraged. My prayers have been reduced to weeping and repetitious mumbling of the name Jesus.
Ultimately though, I know I will give in to that hope. I will imagine that perhaps today, tomorrow or sometime in the near future things WILL be brighter. I will bury the past and all will be fresh like springtime. My garden will begin to bloom and the once dry and barren ground will come alive with the sights, sounds and smells of a May day. A day where daffodils and daisies smile at me and sing, "it's a clear day, rise and look around you...."
At my age (which didn't feel old to me a couple of years ago but feels ancient to me now) can I really get up, dust myself off and start over? I feel more like giving up not starting over. Although, I'll admit the prospect of "hope" glimmers before me. Yes, that spark is still in my heart and I hope it is enough to light the fire and ignite the passion for life that I once enjoyed.
There was a time when I sang in the morning in spite of the hardships. A past time when the poetry filled missives I wrote filled me up and the darkest hour burst forth with a miracle sunrise. But right now it seems the chill of winter hangs ominously over me. Death has become more a reality in life than in death itself. I live most days in emotional pain and I feel the sharp bite of bitterness tear into my heart. Some days it feels like it would be easier to let myself be overcome and torn to shreds rather than turn and face my attacker. The warrior that once lived within me and wielded a sword is weary. I have grown depressed and discouraged. My prayers have been reduced to weeping and repetitious mumbling of the name Jesus.
Ultimately though, I know I will give in to that hope. I will imagine that perhaps today, tomorrow or sometime in the near future things WILL be brighter. I will bury the past and all will be fresh like springtime. My garden will begin to bloom and the once dry and barren ground will come alive with the sights, sounds and smells of a May day. A day where daffodils and daisies smile at me and sing, "it's a clear day, rise and look around you...."
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