Some days, I just shake my head and smile at the obvious. Blessing abound in this beautiful world. I don’t believe life is made of random accidents. Day by day, we’re presented with certain circumstances, dealing with them as we see fit. Some seem like delightfully happy accidents that open a new world. In my life, divine intervention occurs on a daily basis. This desert gal is no accidental tourist.
Consider my story.
One broken widow grieved in Virginia City. One sorrowful widower in grieving in a small town to the east. Both grieving deeply for the long time loves they lost, while working steps to heal their hearts. Two Grieving Gardeners.
Now on her own, she moved to his town alone. He began redecorating his home and life. She found complaint with one very stubborn little grieving dog. He lost his canine companion of 16 years and started over with a crazy puppy who liked to hop. She nearly lost her mind caring for the place that would help her winter pass. He fished. She wrote. The both gardened while God watched over them as days turned into years.
With long days filled with with loneliness, they both longed for the 4th chapter of their lives. They had raised themselves, and kids. They had made a living and a life. It was time to live again. Happiness was a choice they both made every day, even in the stranglehold of loneliness. Separately, they took a chance and ventured onto the world of online dating. And there, with only six miles between the two, they met.
Her first texted question was about the actual size of the fish he was holding in one of his internet pictures. His first texted answer was an actual answer about the size and species of fish and location caught. Text. Text. Text. Dinner. And just like that, a friendship bloomed.
Those short sentences make it seem so simple and the last year has been just that. Fresh, clear, simple, and obvious. No drama. No secrets. No devious motives. A friendship between two “60-Something’s” that became much, much more. Two dogs that jump and twirl at the mention of the other’s name. All beginning with a simple question about a fish.
Over the last year, my life’s mural has gained color and form. The gardens of Winterpast have benefited from the care of two gardeners instead of just one lonely lady watering her plants with tears. Our potato crops are bountiful. The tomato worms don’t stand a chance. We’ve erected a complete greenhouse. I’m learning to enjoy a little golf or football, and eagerly await the next season of “Wicked Tuna”. I’m remembering how to cook good food while serving it to a man that really enjoys a tasty meal.
When selecting my life’s puzzle pieces, I want no harm to come to others. Many times, I spend more time thinking about the resulting fall out then what’s really best for me. As the survivor of a farming family, in the past everything came before self. The animals. The crop. The creditors. At the very end of the list was “Self”. When I found myself alone, I had to learn that I am the only person that matters right now. That’s still an adjustment.
When piecing together a good and happy life, one needs to use brain power and discernment. Our brains were turned on at birth. Throughout life, we’ve made billions of decisions. So many people forget to use lists of logical pros and cons to make the right choice. If your brain is in a fog, like mine these days, borrow one. We are surrounded by so many every day. At least one will be functioning properly, we would hope. Ask friends. Ask professionals. Ask. But, then, look at all the possibilities and complete your very own puzzle.
Staring at the blank page before you, open up the window and let the sun illuminate the words you could not find.
Reach for something in the distance so close you can almost taste it.
Release your inhibitions.
Feel the rain on your skin because no one else can feel it for you.
Only you can let it in.
No one else.
No one else can speak the words on your lips.
Drench yourself in words unspoken.
Live your life with arms wide open.
Today is where your book begins. Natasha Bedingfield — Unwritten
Every decision has a proper season. If you’re finding road blocks at every turn while choosing a path, maybe that decision isn’t for you. I have always wanted to volunteer in a remote location for six months. Just drop out of life and go. It might have been a groovy idea when people still used the word groovy, but today, that ship has sailed. I learned that all too well when I accepted the teaching position last year. For everything there is a time and season. A graceful woman knows all about proper timing. A faith-filled woman stops to listen for guidance from a higher place.
Throughout life, I choose to believe that something WONDERFUL is about to happen. Miracles are everywhere. Think back to the widow and widower. Miracles traveled through the nothingness of the internet and the blue light of a computer screen, to connect two great people. Two mending hearts found strength while holding hands and watching The Chosen. Two Christians found a new church family in a dusty little wide spot in the road off the interstate on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada. If the last year isn’t one heck of hundreds of amazing little miracles, then I just don’t know.
Whatever you do today, try looking at random things as beautiful miracles. Start really looking at the changes in your yard from dawn until dusk. Arise before dawn and listen to the world as it wakes. Choose the puzzle pieces of your life wisely. It’s all up to you. Make the picture of your life your own. No one else can paint it for you.
More tomorrow.