Where is the beautiful rabbit I saw in the yard every day for three weeks -- the one that let me get closer to her every day, until we could look each other in the eye? Haven't seen her for four days. I was happy earlier this week. There was beautiful weather and hope. There was the rabbit, and bluebirds nesting in the bluebird box. Then I saw house wrens take over the box, and wondered if the wrens killed the bluebirds or just ran them off. Now I've gotten some other writing ideas rejected and I think my life has been spoiled.
I get unnerved, thinking I must have done something wrong and God is withholding until I change my ways. But what did I do wrong? Why give me talents and not let me show them? Why give me ideas, and not let me realize them? Where are the rewards for my faithfulness, hard work, loyalty, my grit in withstanding torrents of abuse, hanging in there, being the last to give up -- those Girl Scout kind of virtues, the ones I'm so good at? I'm not a Christian -- to me that's a very serious commitment, not just a label or a bandwagon-- so I don't have, nor do I claim to have, the set of virtues Christians have, such as sweetness or patience, or knowing when to send somebody packing. Oh yes, and what is this chronic physical pain all about? (It IS, thanks to physical therapy, better than it was -- it almost ate me alive -- it's better enough so that now I am pestering God about other things.)
Well, one thing I know, feelings do change. (I'm waiting for the E-mail swami to answer my question. He uses Jyotish (Hindu) astrology.)
Oh yes: I ran my name through the anagramgenius.com. The anagram of my name is: INNOVATE RARE CHICK.
Surely that means something! Everything does!
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