I found a tribe. They are quirky, blue monkeys in a brown monkey world. This would be their chosen birthday cake.
So many are living my dream. A dream of writing and publishing a book. The most recent was LaDonna Cole. Tornados play a prominent role in her book, “Torn”. She sent me this.
Clutching the book to my heart as her heartfelt, handwritten dedication took root, I stood crying in my kitchen. I was so proud. So proud because I knew some of the tornadoes she braved to bring the book to life. My heart swelled too because I know her. I really know her. Though I have only met her twice, I’m in her tribe and she is in mine.
Today there was an oddly shaped package in the pile of online purchased holiday surprises. Sent by Stephanie Pazicni Karfelt, author of WOA, Warrior of the Ages.
I clutched this package to my heart too. For it spoke to my deepest desire and made me giggle. The contents are a silly, awesome, quirky addition which will surprise and delight all my family. She sent it, priority mail, because I am in her tribe and she is in mine. We’ve only met twice.
Most of my life I have felt like an orphan. To be sure I was blessed with a mother and father, yet I remained rootless in my heart. Restlessness was a paper cut to my heart, shallow enough not to be lethal, deep enough to hurt.
Quietly, surprisingly, I have found a tribe of my own. They are authors, mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. Not all are published, still many are writers. Some are older, wiser mensches whose pearls of wisdom are precious. Some are my age, old enough to know better and young enough to sometimes not care. I could be the mother of one, and she never reminds me. Not all are writing, they, like me, have worthy causes which pull them from their words. Yet they find moments to text or FB or to send silly surprises.
Tonight I am thankful for this wordy tribe who has found me. I can rest my tired heart on their shoulders and wrap my hopes around their successes. They make me feel less like an orphan and more like a whole person who can live abundantly.
I’m thankful you are in my virtual tribe by reading this blog. Who is in your tribe? I’d like to know.
Things I Would Be Thankful to Have Less of:
–Cancer steals the life of the one with the diagnosis and rips away pieces of the lives of all those who love and care for them.
–Jeans Size, seriously if the junk in my trunk expands any further I’ll need my own zip code.
–Stuff, which at one point I thought I needed and then forgot why I needed it and now just stare at and wonder how it came to rest underfoot.
Things I Am Thankful to Have More of:
–Time with the one with cancer. We are months ahead of the curve, every day is a bonus
–Comfy Wool Socks in the frozen hinterlands where I live, obnoxious wool socks are the difference between a cranky night and cozy one.
–Faith is a precious commodity I ceded to bitterness and an attitude with God because things didn’t go my way (an understatement-they didn’t just go another way, they stomped on my heart and stole my life). Faith is nibbling at the crusty, hard baked shell around my spirit. Would like to have more of it.
Things I am Thankful to Have in Abundance:
–Laughter at and with my kids, they are so weird they make me feel normal.
–Friends who text when I can’t remember how to turn the phone on and who always ask me how I am because they truly want to know.
–You reading my blog. Of late I am learning harsh lessons on the value of time, sharing yours with me is a gift for which I will always be thankful.
What would you be thankful for less of, more of or have in abundance? I want to read what you write too.
Received a text from a friend today.
“Is something wrong? Haven’t heard from you.”
I immediately called her and we had a frank and honest conversation. I apologized for making assumptions. I decided she couldn’t possibly want to spend time with me individually if we already would be in the same place for a group gathering. I was wrong.
She assumed I was mad or she had done something. She was wrong.
We talked it out and planned to schedule some time as soon as we could. I felt loved abundantly.
Loving abundantly means sometimes asking the hard questions. Questions like, “What is going on with you?”. It also means being willing to do the work to arrive at the answers.
Recently my absolute, iron-clad assumption that I am unworthy of or good at friendships has come crashing to the ground. A very determined and long-suffering group of people have quietly chipped away at the foundation. They simply do not permit me to fade into the background. They do not hear excuses and will show up on my doorstep, children in tow, for a cup of coffee and some peanut butter banana toast.
It’s easier to let things slide. To inhale the intoxicating scent of passive aggression and simply fade away. It’s easier, however, it’s not loving abundantly.