To really feel alone is to be without anyone by my side. I have never felt alone. I have been blessed all my life and especially in my most recent years. All these hours when I lay here in a hospital bed, or on a couch surrounded by the sound of a mindless TV and my goofy Black Lab, I've never been away from people. If there was no "body" near me, I wasn't alone. A great friend of mine has helped me understand that through the power of God words follow us. Try as I might to find a place in the dark to be with myself there is always someone's voice ringing in my ear. As if they were standing right next to me I can hear a friend's ever fainting but never fading whispering.
I think I just noticed a pattern in my writing, which I have to refigure out every time I write. My writings make more sense the further into one specific topic I go. At the beginning of my writing it usually just doesn't make any sense because I'm all excited but no idea how to compose my self. The next segment typically reads like some sort of instruction manuel because I'm really teaching myself what's going on and trying to reason with myself what's going on. So finding the third segment of any of my writing is probably going to be the best piece to read. I think I learned that's pretty normal though, from a great teacher of mine.(Mrs. Munson) I think that's also how writing usually works though, unless your like super pro and you can just sit down and explain every thought instantly in eloquent words. Free writing is essential to effective writing.
My brain wants to convey on a page just this, encouragement is needed in all life. There are lots of ways to exhort though. A hug add's pop to my step sometime. A bag of Cool Ranch doritoes or pizza when hospital food looks disgusting sometimes is more encouraging than seeing 19 people in my room at once. Knowing 300 people pray for me on a daily basis helps. Not that I'm done, but most of all knowing that Jesus thought I was worth dying for helps me remember to live. Having my own lovely mother try to spend every waking moment with me forsaking self at times just to see me do well and to know that I am okay gives me hope that there are incredible women in the world. Sunny days remind me of the great times to come, the great times that shall be had on the Orting trail in the not so cold future. Let's face it, I pull off the bald look, some people who live in Oklahoma don't pull off so well, but the fact that someone would try to put their selves in my shoes shows me I truly am never alone. I began writing this post really because of a great friend who's words linger in my head sometimes when I don't even want them too. Her thoughts convict my heart, even a well placed dream can stop me dead in my sinful tracks. What a blessing is the name Hayley Dawson.
