When
I look in the mirror I recognize the person looking back at me, but could I
tell you who I am? Now I do not mean
giving history or telling a story of my life.
Even at that would the stories really tell you or me who I am? Although I acknowledge my history has brought
me to the present, my true character or personality can be hidden from others. I found at times my behavior or reaction to
certain things has shock me to the point of asking, “Who was that person?” Some might say when you react spontaneously
to something the true character of yourself is revealed. And with that thought a question comes to
mind, was the spontaneous response from the past or was it really from the
present? It is hard to believe that our past can
rapidly be brought to the present moment and yet when I think about those times
I am uncertain that my being is living in the present.
I
could define myself with words of delight and fill those words where you might
believe I am a joyful person. And yes, I
consider myself a “happy” person. The
real response, the truth lies deep inside me and to some it might be a surprise
to know I am just like everyone else. I
find this sentence to be humorous, I actually smiling thinking about it. The reason is some have a different concept
of me. I am the being God gave to my mom
and dad. I am the being who has fears; that
I will continue on paths of destruction as I have lived before and not create
the life God has given me. I fear I will
choose fear over the possibilities of love, and trust will not be in my vocabulary. And with all those fears, my faith and belief
in God has given me a balance to know He wants me happy. His love is within me. I often remind myself with God’s love, I have
love. So…I am love and by opening
everything I am to all I receive love.
Do I say, I walk around “singing in the rain,” and dance everywhere I go
(some might say “yes” to the dancing), smiling with every step I make, no. I like you allow my surroundings, situations,
to capture my essences and throw me to the ground and sometimes even stomp on
me. I go through the routine I have
formed, which is one might say, “licking my wombs,” and pick myself up. And remember…God loves me and I am blessed.
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