Growing up my mother told me, "You can do anything! Never let anybody ever tell you that you can't." I believed her when she said it. In fact, I still do. There's nothing that I am truly afraid to try. It took me decades to realize that she never believed that about herself. When life beats us down, it is easy to get caught up in the pity party of "why me?" But when we look past ourselves, to the life around us, things take on a whole new perspective. Remember the old saying" God will never put you through more than you can handle?" Well, nobody ever looks at why we are handling things. Nothing is an accident. We are all here, right where we need to be, for a reason. Sometimes that reason is only known to Him. Sometimes that "higher calling" doesn't come in the form that we want it to. Sometimes things don't fit neatly into our little box called life. What we need to do is to break out of the box. Don't let anyone ever stuff you into their box of judgement - whether it be judgement of themselves, or of you. Sure they might get angry when you fight against it, but a true relationship will weather the storm. I wish that my mother could see her accomplishments through me. She raised me to be a self-sufficient, successful business woman, author, entrepreneur, mother, daughter, friend, and believer. Everything that she feels like life cheated her out of. Yet, here we are, right in front of each other. We did it. Both of us, together. Open your eyes, look past yourself and into the eyes of those looking back at you. What do you see? Can you see life differently? Have this blog delivered right to your Kindle See life differently. Re-invent the impossible. ~Lori Loretta Sinclair www.SinclairInkSpot.com http://www.sinclairinkspot.com/the-impossibilities-blog.html Unfortunately this is more true than I would care to admit. But the fact is, that if you want to evoke change, you must be the one to initiate it. Most of the time that means standing - often times alone - against the crowd. It's easy to turn a blind eye to wrong. It takes no courage whatsoever to allow wrongs that happen around you. Complacency will breed discontent. Everybody is unhappy. Nobody knows why. And nobody will do anything about it. Except, maybe one. Be a leader. Be the one. Make a change in your little corner of the world. Because: Nothing changes, if nothing changes. Have this blog delivered right to your Kindle See life differently. Re-invent the impossible. ~Lori Loretta Sinclair www.SinclairInkSpot.com http://www.sinclairinkspot.com/the-impossibilities-blog.html Check out the story here, on CNN For everyone who still argues that life does not begin until birth... check out what happens before that. Then we'll talk. Have this blog delivered right to your Kindle See life differently. Re-invent the impossible. ~Lori Loretta Sinclair www.SinclairInkSpot.com http://www.sinclairinkspot.com/the-impossibilities-blog.html Too goo not to pass along. Have this blog delivered right to your Kindle See life differently. Re-invent the impossible. ~Lori Loretta Sinclair www.SinclairInkSpot.com http://www.sinclairinkspot.com/the-impossibilities-blog.html On the way home from work today I thought about a friend from a few years ago. She was in a hard position. Having lost both her father and her husband in a short period of time, life was very difficult for her. Even though she took comfort in the fact that they both knew all about God and Heaven, she was still deeply distressed. Not from the fact that they were gone, but from the fact that while alive, they hated each other. She was afraid that they would be fighting in heaven. It's funny to me how many times we think God can't handle things; how we feel that we need to 'help' him, or somehow make things better if it were just done our own way. We tried everything to make her feel better, but to no avail. Finally, this thought popped up. "My Father's house has many rooms. If it were not so, I would not tell you so. J.C." We just figured, like any good parent, God would send them each to their own rooms until they could learn to play nicely with each other. Wonder what my room will look like? Learn to see things differently. Re-invent the impossible. ~Lori Sobs racked her body, words choked out, stilted and halting. A vice clenched tight around her throat. Air. I need air. “Try to take a breath, Mary.” Her voice was there, but distant. Courtney echoed somehow, almost through a tunnel. “I thought—” the gasp was ragged and painful, “I thought—he loved me. I thought we would be together forever.” Pain. Make it stop, please just make it stop. “That man’s a dog!” Mary could see her. Courtney was touching her, but the touch was distant. It didn’t register. Not real. “No! No. He’s a good man.” He is a good man. He was a good man. He was, once. “I’m sorry.” Courtney shook her head. Her arms latched around Mary holding her close. “I didn’t mean that.” “We were going to get married. “ Her knees buckled. Mary hit the ground, Courtney with her. “We were going to be a family—have a family. He was supposed to take care of me for the rest of my—my—li—life. I would never have to worry about anything because he—, he—.” I can’t even say it. God help me. The words hurt too much. “There’ll be another guy, Mary. If you just - - “ “I don’t want another guy! I want him!” Courtney took a deep breath. “Mary, this is going to hurt, but he doesn’t love you anymore.” The look on Mary’s face told her that was a big mistake. “Isn’t that what he told you?” She was backpedaling now. Courtney watched as her friend broke both on the inside and out. Painful moans emanated from her throat. To call them a sob or a cry, even a wail, would have been a stretch. “Mary, it’s time to get some help. He’s not coming back.” She kept her arms wrapped around her crumpled friend on the floor, seemingly in the throes of a grave injury, pitiful moans poured out of her open mouth without stop. Mary clenched her eyes tight against the pain, and the world. It had been a year — a year of hurt and pain — a year of throwing up every single day, and crying herself to sleep every night. The days all meshed into one, and the months dragged on as though they would never end, as though the pain would never end. And it didn’t. A broken heart really can kill you. I still love him. But hate him at the same time. I want to see him, but I can’t. I need him. And I despise him. “I know you’re sad,” Courtney said, “but this will - - “ “I’m not sad,” Mary snapped. “This isn’t sad.” It won’t get better. It’s never going to get better. I will never have anybody who loves me. Roger, my love — the only man I have ever truly loved. Why? Why did you hurt me so? “Why can’t you just love me back?” “What?” Courtney whispered, teetering on the edge of her dear friend’s dream… or nightmare… “Why can’t I just find a man who can love me? A man who would die for me?” “Roger did love you.” “And now he doesn’t.” Her words were sharp and biting. “I want to be loved forever. Someone who can love me for who and what I am, for all eternity. Is that so much to ask?” Mary tried to stand, but her legs gave way. Collapsed on the floor, she buried her head. Away from Courtney. Away from the world. ~†~ Her cries echoed in her head. The pounding on her brain coincided with the echo of wails and moans in her ears. Head. Hurt. Throbbing. Mary fell forwarded and vomited. She tried to crawl, but was too weak. The smell of fresh dirt stung her sinuses. Dust surrounded her, blinding any line of sight. Hands. Don’t touch me. I never want to be touched again by anyone. Voices. I don’t want to hear you. I don’t want to listen. You don’t understand. No one does. I can’t. I don’t ever want to hurt like this again. I can’t do this alone. I can’t survive. Won’t this pounding in my head stop? “Move along.” A foot connected with her ribs, throwing her sideways. Toppled sideways, face in the dirt, Mary pushed herself up. Sandals. Bare legs. Red skirt. Sword? A centurion soldier. “What?” “Your king will be dead soon. Move along.” The ground shook when the huge cross was lifted and seated into its gaping hole. Swaying back and forth with the weight of the beaten and bloody human nailed to it, the broken pieces of Mary’s heart crumbled again. “What did he do?” Her heart ached just to look upon the figure that once was a man. “Sedition. Claims He’s the Messiah. A new king, come to save the world, but can’t even save himself. Now He’s a dead king. Let’s see what He can do from the grave.” The sky darkened, along with her heart and soul. Laughter. Mocking. “I want the king’s robe.” “No, I want it too.” Clinking on the ground. Casting lots. Are they betting for the clothing of this gruesomely beaten man? Why? What did this man do? Other than love everyone. Love me. Enough to die for me. “Let’s help him die faster. Get these crying followers out of here.” A spear. Pierced. Blood, no water flowed from his pierced side, gushing down the wooden cross. “Ahhhhh.” It was but a whisper. He never cried out. What? You’re mumbling. Mary inched closer. “What did you say?” Barely a hoarse whisper, she asked again. “What?” “My God. My God. Why have you forsaken me?” He groaned in pain, falling forward against the nails that held him up. Dear God. That really is my son up there. His head lolled sideways, eyes opened. Glazed, but still focused, on me. He looked at me. For you. I did this for you. I am the one who loves you. I am the one who died for you. And then He smiled. At me. Because He loves me. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16 NIV Loretta Sinclair ©Sinclair Publishing, 2013 All Rights Reserved Not Useable Without Permission Lori@SinclairInkSpot.com |
Impossibilities Blog...
All things are possible... Archives
April 2019
Categories
All
|