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I believe that for the most part my life has been extraordinarily blessed. Although, if you looked at each moment, each memory, each particular period of time, you might say something different. So, I look at you and smile, ignoring your transitory interest.

Tree in the Cornfield by August Macke

Tree in the Cornfield by August Macke

 

{i thank You God for this most amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay great happening illimitably earth.)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any – lifted from the no
of all nothing – human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened.)
e.e. Cummings}

You might press on, quizzing and pestering, curious about the back room whisperings. I would continue to dodge your questions and carefully explain that I did not become the person I am in spite of my circumstances. I became the person that I am because of them. And, that is what I intend to share with you – glimpses of God in the ordinary, etchings of my complete undoing and details about the process of my remolding.

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