A lovely, cool breezy morning for sitting out enjoying the flowers and birds. I wanted to take a picture of a beautiful little humming bird that kept flying over the flowers, but it wouldn’t land. I had to give up. It made me get behind on my morning schedule. I must stop letting things like this hinder my work. I have procrastinated too long already. I know I am suppose to be content with my time, but that doesn’t mean content on just one thing. I have several things going that needs to be finished. I think God has given me too much desire for pleasure and not enough for work. I will take it however way it is and count it as a priceless gift. I love my gift of gab, and will find a way to use it every day. Other things may have to wait, but I must gab daily. Some may call relaxation and pleasure a waste of time, but I have to define those as a true blessing from God after the age of fifty. By faith I am claiming these two gifts as two of my most cherished talents. I am a senior citizen in the USA. I will graduate the day I die. A higher and more blessed place of learning will have just begun. The mascot is a crown of jewels. I can’t wait to wear it.
A thread of hope is weaving back and forth in my mind in hopes of completing my family circle of loved ones. A few have been blocked from joining the loving circle of arms that reaches out to them. They themselves have put the block in place, and refuse to remove it by reason of loving evil more than good. The chances of this block ever being removed is slim. I still believe in miracles, but have to admit that this miracle will probably never happen. My request for two of the most precious loves of my heart is this. If I die before either of them I want a hair from each of their heads to be buried with me in my coffin. They can never be removed from my remains. I know no one on this earth can ever understand, but my God knows all about it. Nothing can ever break the bond of love that was made in heaven and given to last through out eternity. A bond of love such as this can only be broken by death. A thin line separates hate from love with love over shadowing a bit. Hate is a bad word, but many bad things have been caused by it. It takes a miracle of love to forget the hurtful things that has happened because of unwanted children who had to battle with life’s difficulties. True repentance from parents didn’t repair the years of damage. They operate on parts that can never be replaced, causing a trail of fire and smoke. I love the damaged, and the repented cause for it. Is God’s love great enough to match mine? Much, much more.
God Bless
Myrtle Jean Sharp
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