Earlier today began a draft which found its way into the circular file system. Never was this lamb in the typing business, have had experiences with the typewriter and naturally sat down with a pad of yellow legal paper for jotting down ideas. I loved to write down these possibilities for my next steps. I could with a pad of paper go wander into a park or a sandy beach and sit with it, do some doodling if it was inspired and always kept scrap papers by my landline phone for just that, at work and at home. I’d doodle light hearted swirls, puppy faces, big puffy clouds with a smiling sun. I could smell the ink as it oozed out from my hand, free flowing uninhindered in its own will, moving me by its scents to keep leaving more ink behind until it smeared my palms moving across this yellow lined paper.
This was before the days of typed no make that keying everything in on to a computer where you also miss out on a bell’s tiny dings when reaching the opposite margin. Then it’s okay for this lamb not be fumbling anymore with adjusting paper on the roller or having to bring out that bottle of white out or use correction tape on errors when everything is done so neatly on this modern day computer. Unless you liked to sniff the white out bottles, then you could miss it but I don’t think anyone has missed the corrections tape or swapping out typewriters ribbons. For this lamb do not know which is worst replacing typewriter ribbons or the toner in the printers, maybe the toners that is a messing job when its the laser printers and copiers. No I don’t miss that part in being unemployed.
You can take your laptop to the park, not the same experience as a pad of paper. First you have to be careful and with this old computer which I recently found out it was recalled something about it getting too hot. This I know thought one carefree day to lounge in my bed and search the internet, came close to burning my thigh. Yep that was in the days when I worked like a dog and actually deserved a day of leisure like that. Forget taking my Nook did do that, other than reading it’s a cantankerous task to type on, so I am not too interested in getting the last fad in tablets.
What I do miss about the old fashion way of writing is that unfallowable sensation from crumpling your sheet of paper that was declared unfit, a piece of po that deserved to be manhandled then tossed into the can. A certainty, one of the few things life gives away by allowing finality to pour over you as it lands with expert skills from the slam dunk it received. With a hurrah for skill it stays in there and is easily forgotten. I’m satisfied and moved on once again. You do not get that when you hit trash on your piece of crud, it’s just gone poof with no fanfare or a pause for a prayer of regret an dyou can just too easily send it out when it belonged in the waste can, dont it too many times. But when I have made it disappears off my screen, memory gone with it but it was empty at the start, like when you tie your shoes, you just do it, no feeling, no cleansing involved just gone.
Times of my life are like that, some decisions made are able to be undone with no regrets, no actual memory of it being made even, it just stopped happening, gone without ever recalling I made that choice. Others like my divorce on the final day signing in court, it was done and I was a washed with a final document that it was over. Not to be taken out from the trash bin. A clean break. Mine was a clean break, seen some who had trouble even years after it ended. Mine was with a snap done. Never spoken about again, why now don’t know. There was no love loss by either parties you can say. Won’t get into the children who were the victims, we the adults weren’t.
A divorce should be a time for regret and it does as it carries so many with it, but there isn’t a point in taking that road because then it brings more harm to those innocent bystanders once again. Going through that ordeal of being married and then not had been hard on this lamb, but it was seen, I could feel the trouble, the uneasiness of that living. There may have been ways to repair it but I never did love him in the first place. It was a marriage of duty, being foolish in getting pregnant. Doing what I shouldn’t have been, thinking there won’t be repercussions. Always repercussions, they can come in, in a big way like that was, or they can be small quiet changes rerouting your life without even knowing it.
That is what I am going through since last year, small changes some of them are directing stemming from my choices to what was thrust on to indirectly and some not so directed but like my boys I have been affected. Getting into the these misfortunes is pointless. What I am looking for on my path is a firmness that comes from being absolutely certain that my next choice is in the Lord’s will. I want as much solid conviction that if its wrong it can be tossed into the waste can with as much gusto as that wadded up paper that was deemed unsuitable for anybody’s eyes. Bam it’s gone and walked away without a second thought, no lingering eyes looking back.
For the last three weeks have wondered about this job, where the schooling begins Monday, the one job that is awesome, who wouldn’t want to be a naturalist guide? Taking people around in an open air jeep. Tourist from around the world to see a fault line in the continents. I want this job, knowing full well it will break my bank account, and will give me at tops 2 to 3 days a week for a short spell. Inside my gut knew something was wrong. My first strike against myself is – was it my fault that something this bad would happened that would keep me from taking on this new step in my life?
I spoke it out loud, thought it in my head then followed up if it’s in the Lord’s will he will take care of everything. This lamb is not used to trusting anything or anybody that completely to walk away without another round of fretting. I tried, I really tried was what this lamb did. For more than a week recanting with my heart “The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want” over and over, read it. Sometimes I didn’t feel it but went through with it anyways, and really spoke His words when it wasn’t what I wanted to do. The lamb wanted to seek shelter through music anywhere, over the phone but I needed to learn to be seeking Him even when it didn’t feel it would produce.
Back of my head did ease up on the position, the ominous grew with each passing day. Then this week I have been sorely lost, couldn’t find rest, moody, bitter by the twisting gut. My answer came and it can’t be tossed into the can, it can’t be retracted I have been dropped into a slot that is wrenching and tearing this lamb apart.
So I am trying at best once again that the Lord knows what he is doing, though I do not know and which I knew when I asked that he bring his light to my sons. In the middle of this lamb rejected the notion when a message rolled across my visual sight. The old saying be careful what you wish for couldn’t ring more true to this lamb than any other words spoken tonight. So I am quickly running bad towards the Lord knows what he is doing and count the blessing of his protection over my son who for the second time since July. He took on a deer on his bike back then and survived it, this time he went for the big one and that was a Mercedes SUV against his bike. The same green bike and him, deer lost last time, he is in trouble this time.
I sit here with no money and he is there in Oregon and I have to find a way to get there and I don’t even have the nerve to call the man who took a chance on me with the position. Spent the afternoon on the phone and facing all of my subtle decisions that were made in raising my three boys. All those days working showing them it’s important to work for your bread and roof. Chasing after money like my father did, thinking it would protect everyone even after he was long gone. I wished he spent that time with me, teaching me to be a better parent. I wished he taught me his knowledge of making decisions that were successful with building strong families that carried also into the work place. All of these things I missed that my sons also missed.
But in my failures taught my sons to not give up, my father never gave up either. So my son who took on machines of man and beasts, and survived, clearly both were the works of the Lord, is sitting in a hospital alone making comments on Facebook to let everyone know he’s not down yet. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be there he is going to be wheel chair bound for a long time, he’s a fighter is all it means.
Well I will day I have always wanted to walk the Pacific Crest Trail, wonder if this is a good time to start? Hummm…I could just head towards Oregon, he’s going to be in the hospital for quite sometime, at least I am doing something other than sitting here missing him.
Good news when I looked up what happened discovered he is all over the web pages with his business Zombieperformance.com, check it out it’s pretty awesome work he does and hopefully will be back into the pink of things with his mother’s care.
Here’s a pic of him – not showing the leg way to gross.
This is from his followers they got creative with his deer incident and now they are lighting up the new deal with these ideas. Humor does help so much doesn’t it? Stef’s last post was funny , can’t put it on this blog site a little raunchy. This one they suggested it’s sturdy enough for any object he throws himself against, in the way of deers and sliding through SUV’s
He’s leaning towards this I think and this is the one with the unclean comments, something about having a babe magnet that comes with it. Really? Doubtful, will see him coming around the corner befor ehe gets there.
This was my choice and one of the perks of that job! PS pic stolen, couldn’t get the Desert Adventures to copy.Same set up.
“Listen to my words, Lord,
consider my lament.
Hear my cry for help,
my King and my God,
for to you I pray”
1st pic: http://www.123rf.com
jeep tours stolen so quickly forgot where but this did come from a Sedona site, didn’t come up again when I went back, so sorry.