As a writer, I am inspired by many things, most especially stories. I also happen to be an artist, nurse, a wife and a mother of 5. No matter what occupation or degree we hold, essentially we are life-long students afforded a daily opportunity to learn lessons that teach our souls. Some lessons are clear and concise. Others seem like glass shards that stab deep into our souls; these lessons take on a life of their own, almost begging to be told. 

Allow me to tell you a story about Ryan, a 27-year-old man I never met, whose story I can never forget. To hear him tell his story in his own words would be nothing short of riveting. Sadly, this cannot and will not ever happen. 

I cannot believe it's already been 13 years. This year marks the 13th anniversary of my father's 74th birthday, which happened to be the day he passed. It seems like just the other day that I and 3 of our children went to visit him, bringing birthday balloons and his favorite candy.  His large eyes got even bigger as he saw us enter the room. We talked, we shared, and I took pictures of him cuddling with my children.  They created birthday cards for daddy while he and I sat in silence. It was a safe silence; the kind where you both smile, knowing things are as copacetic as they will ever be, and words are simply not needed.  

A few minutes later he perked up, looked at me with uncontrolled excitement, and declared, "Things happen so fast!"  Somehow in the middle of that moment, I knew unequivocally that this seemingly reminiscent statement meant so much more. Oddly, my reaction was to watch it all unfold, because in my heart I knew there was a vital message here. Intuitively I knew there was so much more meaning to those four innocent words.

Sometimes, in the newness of morning, this little heart of mine just decides to open up a little bit extra... Thoughts and words come trickling like a light rain falling through the leaves of a huge, old oak tree. One by one, with increasing speed these words and thoughts come together, and as fast as I can, I write them down. Why? Because they came THROUGH me, and not from me. They mean there is something I am supposed to know or learn. I will take that. It is a gift I never asked for. A gift I accept with unequivocal, unwavering gratitude...

This morning I awakened to realize the odd beauty in the remaking of a broken soul. This is a beauty that would never have been there had I remained safe, unchanged, and whole throughout my life. It is from this brokenness that I took the soul I was born with, added pain, tears, and grief, then put mostly shards and unmatched pieces back together to form a new, more amazing person. 

Same soul, just so much more amazing. SO. VERY. AMAZING.

In one day ... a baby is born, an old man dies, and we have the chance to engage in an affair.

I wanted him to love me. To help me learn to fly. To believe I was the most beautiful songbird to have sweetly sung melodies to him on his balcony. But I fell short. I missed the landing.