Seasonal Change

Pss. 90: 6 "In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is cut down, and withereth."

Seasonal Change

It seems like a seasonal change is going on in my body and mind. In the Spring I’m flourishing and growing, writing until my fingers hurt then by fall I’m ready to go dormant and wither into the sunset and put my year long trek of blog posts behind me. It’s not even the New Year yet. 

I did have a goal at the beginning of this year and that was to surpass last year’s posts. So far I beat the 112 posts mark pretty easy. Now to surpass 2013, not so easy as September has arrived and I just want the year to be over already. Maybe the cooler temperatures arriving next week will whisk me away into a writing frenzy and my goal will surpass 2014! Hey, I can dream but the one thing I can’t do is give up!

2013 – 162 posts, 2014 – 182 posts, 2015 - 112 posts, 2016 – 155 so far. A grand total of 1699 posts thus far – Definitely surpassing my goal from when I began this venture. 

~  Amen  ~

Topics – the elusive thought for a topic is becoming harder and harder as sources become overwhelming to my little brain. Then there is the reality that I must live life and not just sit behind this windowed world because things need to be taken care of around my home.

I feel lost amid a sea of falling leaves that are slowly being taken from their tree source and left to lie on the ground waiting to be raked and put into a pile on my almost ready to be sleeping garden. Even my flourishing garden wants to rest from a heated summer where little has fallen from the sky to quench the thirst of the dry land beneath.

I thought I’d at least make my blog writing to the November election when the chosen one will be hung out to dry on the social media clothesline.  The news media will spin their web of deceit just in time for Halloween when all the masks will be evidently seen from people and politicians alike and I get to be here at center stage to watch the show. Yippee, how depressing.

I think about giving up writing all the time but I won’t allow the phase to suck me down the drain with all the mask-wearing people. I actually have a goal set and I don’t like giving up. I don’t care how depressing the world around me becomes or how hard they try to tighten the noose around my neck with their gibberish; I can’t give up!

I sometimes feel like my posts are coming off as peeved or angry but I have no intention of writing from anger. When something bothers me, like lies and deceit, I write about the liars and deceivers so that maybe, just maybe, everyone else can see that people they know and trust are misleading them also. Maybe they don’t even care if the bullring hanging from their nose is leading them around. This is why I feel like discontinuing my writing so I can just have a break from the grammar-etiquette police and the judgmental masked socialites, who know who they are. 

I don’t have all of the answers and I surely don’t pretend to know it all. I lost my ego years ago when reality swallowed me up as the social media frenzy was seizing control of the world. I am not a pretentious person putting on a show for you all to read, what you see is the real me that some of you like but some are taken aback by my over-the-top honesty.

“Did she really just say that?” Yes, yes I did. 

Sometimes my openness corners me into a cage, leaving people to poke sticks at me through the bars, feed me their delusion or ready to pull their shotguns out because they see me as a big gorilla trying to save a small child. (Think Harambe, the almost endangered species) 

There you have it, the truth of this entire post, I’m an endangered species being forced out of existence by an all too willing mass that would rather shoot me down rather than lift me up. I’m telling you here and now, I will not go out quietly. I will look down the barrel of your gun proclaiming HE IS ALIVE! I AM ALIVE! All the capitalizing in the world isn’t big enough to make you HEAR the WORDS (or see) because blindness is an epidemic that is sucking the life out of the living.

Seasons come and seasons go

Dreams may come and dreams may flow.

No one knows from where I grow

As seasons come and seasons go.

Ex. 23:20 Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.