I have experienced some situations lately that have once again rocked my world. I can’t find a reason for other’s behavior. Couldn’t it be life pressures? Upbringing? I want to find excuses for them. I know that the enemy is at work when God is not the center. Some people fall prey due to their lack of God’s wisdom. This is my way of thinking; I believe moving on and let them be is the best option. I must resort to protection mode.
The Bible says that when you have done everything you are supposed to do, you stand. I’m standing on the Word of God. It says everything works for the good of those who love Him and walk according to His purpose. What is His goal? For us to show love, mercy, and compassion.
Only then can we talk to our neighbors about Eternal Life. Can someone hungry listen while you preach them the good news of salvation? No! Feed the hungry, clothe the naked. Meet the needs of the ones around you. You may not reach all, but you will help some. In doing these things, you will find His peace. There is no peace like the one that comes from God.
You know that He is working on your behalf; while you are waiting, this truth brings with it HOPE. That’s the thing you cling to while things turn around. I experienced this before. He never disappoints. Take care and protect yourself from physical and emotional harm.
You should be your number one. In no way can you help anyone if your mind is unrested. Remember, His Word is accurate. He is not a man who can lie or the son of a man who can change His mind. What He said will come to pass. Who can say Amen?
Looking around nature, I notice the changes about to conclude. Some trees and shrubs are changing into fall colors but not quite. The flower garden is only giving us half of its beautiful summer flowers. The Hummingbird feeders are almost empty. I found some figs rotten and some were perfectly ripe.
I haven’t seen any hummingbirds around. Are they here or halfway to their winter refuge in South or Central America? The grass is still green, but there is no need to cut it weekly. All the changes that come with the new season are in between, in transition, almost completed.
Have you experienced in “Between” situations at any time? Some of us are in between life-altering decisions, moving to a new house for the third time, a new job, a whole new career.
Is that we make decisions as we grow older and go into the different seasons of life as we see fit. After twenty-two years selling homes to awesome and grateful clients, I will like to work solely from home, not a realistic move at the moment. I stay extremely busy with my clients, and I don’t have time to study.
I’m in the singular position of attracting new and existing clients for the mere fact that I speak Spanish. I don’t suffer for lack of repeat clients or referrals. But inside me is the younger me who was raising kids with no time to herself.
I’m back at wanting to have time for myself; the kids are married, with children. I can speed the process if I wish to, but I’m not confident it will be the best way to go about it. How have you ever found yourself in this position? Some of us want it all. Nothing wrong with that. It takes a little planning and lots of strategies.
In the meantime, I fill the free time with activities I like and trips to the lake house. My mom is getting much older and is coming to live with me. I hope to create new memories with her. All things will work out for the best eventually. God said it, and I believe it.
This “in between” is part of life, and I will do my best to enjoy it and learn a new thing or two before I make my final decision. I’m in-between seasons, but for today, I’m enjoying the cool breeze of Autumn while waiting for the cold days of Winter.
Perhaps all I need is to do as the beautiful Hummingbirds who migrate to warm temperatures “In-Between” seasons.
In front of me, every time I sit down to write is a little red car that no one will ever drive. No other possession bigger or smaller warms my heart more than thinking about how the little car traveled home in my leather purse.
He gave me the little red car, maybe in the hope of seeing it again when he comes to visit grandma. We spent that day playing and laughing hard.
He is only eight, but he likes to challenge me by playing games or racing around in the yard. His beautiful eyes look at me with unconditional love. He is pure and innocent.
It warms my heart to know he feels so comfortable when I grab him in my arms. He always fights to get out of my embrace just because he is playful and full of energy.
I’m not sure why he keeps giving me toys to take home. Could it be a bond of collaboration or preparation for the days he comes over and stays?
I may not know the reason, but I’m sure of one thing, he loves to sit very close to “Abuela” so she can watch him play his video games. I love him so much; it’s so hard to explain the bond between us that is even stronger than the bond of blood.
I enjoy these moments when we can be together. Even when my grandson grows older, for me, he will always be the sweet little kid the Lord sends us to Love.
Who else but you could leave in my being the deep emptiness that grew with me over the years. Perhaps not having your attention and flattery aroused the insecurity that I still carry with me to this day? Was it your lack of protection that allowed the innocent girl to fall prey to this wicked world? I was a baby, but you didn’t get to hold me or enjoy my sweet innocent smell.
Was that part of your regrets?
Time would not return to mend those mistakes. You understood it a little late. No worries, we all make mistakes. I have so many questions, so few answers. I want to understand you but failed to ask you. Now it’s too late. Those actions come at a high price. You were not the only one that carried the remorse and shame of your error. In me are some traces I can’t extinguish; they are like a voracious fire in the undergrowth. It seems that I continue to overcompensate with my own kids and grandkids for any lack of attention for fear of ending up with regrets like you at the end of your days.
I have no lack of forgiveness, and I do not even feel resentment, just an inexplicable sadness that I cannot tear down from my soul. I never told you about it for fear of hurting you. I suffered for the lack of your presence in my life. I cried for you and longed for you often. My mom made sure through the years that I had a great picture of you in my mind. At school, I felt rejected, perhaps because everyone knew that I did not belong to the family God chose for me in your absence.
So, I was growing and experimenting in finding where to fit in. It seems that the world did not understand me. I felt the need to be part of the big puzzle of life. I wanted to be in harmony with the ones closest to me. But something was missing. I could not fit in. I was an odd part of the puzzle. My edges were probably too rough, probably too uneven, and it just felt that I was in the wrong box. Over and over again, I felt their indifference.
That indifference caused pain and confusion in my lonely heart. Today you are no longer here. I don’t have the option to explain to you what the few years we shared meant to me. There is no opportunity to tell you about the pride I felt to prove to everyone that you existed. That you were not part of my imagination, that you were real. That I also had the surname enjoyed by the brothers I later met.
I continue to feel the sadness that does not seems to leave me. On occasions, it consumes me. What can I do? I’m like that; maybe that’s why those who lived near me didn’t understand me, appreciated me, or allow me to be part of their lives. I am different because I carry thoughts in my mind that they cannot understand. They did not know that I always loved you and wanted to meet you.
Although only less than a hundred miles divided us, I was not able to see you or be around you until the day you shortened the distance between us. I was thirteen, and I felt your closeness. Since that white car, like the white horse and the knight in the story, approached my house, my blood yelled at me; here comes your DAD!.
If you read and heard the song, it means that you have connected with my story. This story is my reality, and it may also be yours. Know that God is a healer and part of the healing is letting go. You may not belong to a piece of a group in society but will always belong to God. Blessings!
A familiarscene in my bedroom (don’t get ahead of yourselves) are tears of joy for contestants participating in various shows. My me-time happens in the evening hours after a long day at the office. I like to watch tv for a few hours in the solitude of my spare bedroom. I relax while enjoying shows like American Got Talent, American Idol, or anything that has to do with competing. I am a 5’3″ fireball with more desires than strength, with more dreams than reach, and with more hopes to accomplish diverse projects than the time I have left in this world.
I’m the one that’s cheering for the underdog, the one with life-like stories. The ones that come from where it looked impossible to get anywhere. Some are insecure, unsure, unqualified, petrified, but they made it to the stage. They defy the lack, distance, language barrier, and who can deny it the draw of the straw. Many didn’t have any support, funds, or someone to travel with them and see them perform. They amaze us and amaze themselves with the audience response while I tear up. That’s how I show my support!
(Full Disclosure) This infatuation started in 1989. I traveled to the US and got introduced to daytime shows while caring for my oldest son and newborn. On a cold December, my family and I arrived in San Angelo, Texas. I didn’t have a car, friends, or dominion of the English language. Daytime shows and Ice-cream floats help me adapt to the new environment o, so I thought.
I enter into a deep postpartum depression that culminated with Hypothyroidism (or vice versa), not easily diagnosed by the doctors. I had a large egg size ball on the side of my neck, and even after many blood tests, contrast x-ray images, and many doctors squeezing it, followed by me screaming of pain, they could not determine what was wrong with me.
I lost lots of weight. I was less than a hundred pounds when we finally got the diagnose. Soon after that, I traveled back home with my two kids, one nine years old, the other one now six months. My father told me, confident, you are home now. You will be good in no time. I took some anti-depressive medicine for a short while and got back to normal in no time. It has been a while, and it never happened again, but the taste for watching people competing for anything never left me.
Si el destino lo dispone y de esta tierra de incertidumbres me arrebata te dejo esta carta para que te quede de recuerdo. En ella mi corazón relata el agradecimiento del que en este caso te hago objeto. Veo en mi mente la imagen del chamaquito de Jagual corriendo la bicicleta para los encargos ir a buscar.
El camino seco, pedregoso y polvoriento te saluda mientras el verdor imponente de nuestra isla te abraza con dulzura. En la tiendita del barrio ya se acostumbraron a que llegarás apresurado y sudoroso con la notita de encargos debajo del brazo. Con el pequeño lápiz delineabas las necesidades del día que te dictaba la abuela o quien sabe esta vez fue su tía.
Así me contabas con detalle y no sé si con algún sentimiento de nostalgia y un poco de amargura. No estaba allí para presenciar estos hechos, pero puedo relatar lo que está historia provocó en mi forma de entender parte de tu vida. Cuando saliste de nuestra isla quizás nadie te dijo lo mucho que te apreciaban. Suele pasar, no lo tomes a mal. No es fácil abrirse al sentimiento.
Muy tarde llega el arrepentimiento para muchos que fracasaron sin siquiera hacer un intento. No quiero que llegue la despedida y que me pase a mí lo que le paso a ellos. Quiero decirte lo mucho que para mí significas y la influencia que ejerces en mi deseo de exponer mis propias historias de cuando era una niña. En mi mente vive hoy un gran cariño y eterno agradecimiento por aquel niñito que en un momento se pudo haber sentido huérfano.
Que la vida te recompense por todos tus sacrificios y te bendiga con muchos más logros. Gracias por tu amistad, tu dedicación y tu bondad. Lo quiero expresar una vez más por si me toca irme primero al más allá. No quiero que me pase contigo lo que me paso anoche mientras le daba el último adiós a quien en vida conmigo tan bien fue bueno.
I find people willing to help others extraordinarily. A servant’s heart is to be desired. Many will recognize your efforts in making their dream come true; others may not. That’s perfectly okay, God in due time, will bless you with the opportunities and resources to expand your influence and fulfill your dreams.
Luke 6:38 Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
Encuentro personas extraordinarias dispuestas a ayudar a otros. El corazón de un siervo debe ser deseo. Muchos reconocerán sus esfuerzos para hacer realidad su sueño; otros pueden no hacerlo. Eso está perfectamente bien, Dios a su debido tiempo te bendecirá con las oportunidades y los recursos para expandir tu influencia y cumplir tus sueños.
Lucas 6:38 Den, y se les dará: se les echará en el regazo una medida llena, apretada, sacudida y desbordante. Porque con la medida que midan a otros, se les medirá a ustedes.
Nothing is more selfish than raining on someone’s parade. Not only learn to celebrate others like it is your accomplishment but help them to get there sooner. Anyone who is faithful in the little things will receive his portion in due time.
Nada es más egoísta que llover sobre el desfile de alguien. No solo aprenda a celebrar a los demás como si fuera su logro, sino que también ayúdelos a llegar antes. Aquellos que son fieles en las pequeñas cosas recibirán su porción a su debido tiempo.
In 70+\_ days, I will be enjoying a view like this. I can’t wait to sail towards the horizon and return toward what’s a “normal” routine for my husband and me for the past few years now. Every year we go on one or two cruises to alleviate the tension of our job.
It seems like Realtors have the best jobs, and perhaps it’s true. In love, not be confined inside a building. I never liked it. Not even those seven months I spend working in a factory in Puerto Rico when I was twenty years young. The reality is that Real Estate can be a stressful job. You are working with legally binding documents where a sentence can change the meaning of the team you buyer had in mind.
I am grateful for the opportunity to serve my community and the flexibility that comes from being an independent contractor. Still, once or twice a year, it helps to leave it all behind for a few days.
However, I respond to e-mails and follow up with clients when I’m in Aruba in the middle of the ocean. I guess you can’t wholly escape if you want to keep your good name.
My mom’s name is Rosa (Rose in English), and she happens to love roses very much. Today as we celebrate Red Roses day, I will honor my mom writing about her. It has been a couple of years since I saw her last and I miss her tremendously.
Last year she had Covid due to exposure from one of her caregivers. Four full days before she went to the hospital, after experiencing feelings of tiredness, we thought it was due to recent foot surgery and the effects of the anesthesia. She didn’t’ develop other symptoms, just exhaustion, and low oxygen levels. It was hard to know she was all alone in that hospital, in another state. I’m grateful she kept her phone and could talk to me every day.
The Covid treatment was very severe but she made it. Her nurses treated her with the utmost respect, care, and love. The nurses even jumped over her to hold her tight when the injections she received made her scream with pain. My mom is 83 years old and while her walk is slow, her mind is sharp as ever. I don’t know when I will see her or if I will ever see her in person again.
I have a terrible fear of cars and from New York to Connecticut is a long way to be in one of them. She is brilliant and we facetime almost every day. I’m thankful for the tools that allow staying close even during difficult times. I love you, mom! You are my rock, friend, and inspiration to stay strong.
El nombre de mi mamá es Rosa (Rose en inglés), y le encantan las rosas. Hoy, mientras celebramos el día de las Rosas Rojas, honraré a mi mamá escribiendo sobre ella. Han pasado un par de años desde la última vez que la vi y la extraño muchísimo.
El año pasado tuvo Covid cuando la muchacha que la cuidaba la expuso sin decirle. Cuatro días antes de que fuera al hospital, después de experimentar sensación de cansancio, pensamos que se debía a una cirugía reciente del pie y a los efectos de la anestesia. Ella no desarrolló otros síntomas, solo agotamiento y bajos niveles de oxígeno. Era difícil saber que estaba sola en ese hospital, en otro estado. Estoy agradecida de que ella se quedara con su teléfono y pudiera hablar conmigo todos los días.
El tratamiento de Covid fue muy severo pero lo logró. Sus enfermeras la trataron con el mayor respeto, cuidado y amor. Las enfermeras incluso saltaban sobre ella para abrazarla fuerte cuando las inyecciones que recibió la hacían gritar de dolor. Mi mamá tiene 83 años y, aunque camina lento, su mente está más aguda que nunca. No sé cuándo la veré o si la volveré a ver en persona.
Tengo un miedo terrible a los coches y de Nueva York a Connecticut es un largo camino para estar en uno de ellos. Ella es brillante y nos hablamos en la cámara del teléfono casi todos los días. Estoy agradecido por las herramientas que permiten estar cerca incluso en tiempos difíciles. ¡Te quiero, mami! Eres mi roca, mi amiga y mi inspiración para mantenerme fuerte.