How To Live Out Your Dreams Without Boundaries By Jemelene Wilson Throughout childhood, my answer to, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” was always, “A cheerleader.” Long before the Dallas Cowboys hired cheerleaders, that was all I ever wanted to be. I was convinced no one wanted to be a cheerleader more than I did. In my sophomore year of high school I was the mascot; in my junior year I was pep Commissioner, and in my senior year it was explained to me that I was too large to be on the squad. I felt
Christmas. Just the word evokes images of experiences, both unique to our hearts and common to those around us. Trimming trees, baking, shopping, and decorating fill the lists of activities we engage in to make Christmas “feel like Christmas.” The phrase “It just isn’t Christmas without __________ (fill in the blank)” sets us all up for disappointment on those days when real life finds its way into our celebrations. Read the rest here at The Glorious Table.
As my husband and I take our morning walks, our feet shuffle through piles of leaves throughout the neighborhood. We find ourselves admiring homes and giving input on what we’d do differently. We speak of the “what ifs” and the “let’s just not ever do that.” Because we’ve owned and remolded numerous homes, we have definite opinions on what we think works and what doesn’t. We use it to share our own ideas with each other. It helps to know what the other one likes when it comes to rearranging our own home. It keeps us on the same page
The last leaves are still holding on for dear life. They refuse to see the change of the seasons for what it is. Their refusal to let go does not stop fall or the biting cold air from coming. It still comes. The frost will still lay down in the sheets of white to mimic what is to come. The leaf still clings to the dormant tree though no life is flowing through its branches. Food can’t flow to the veins so to sustain life. Still, it holds on. How often do we allow ourselves to remain attached to a seemingly dead tree,
A rainbow followed me this morning. There wasn’t even a hint of rain in my path as my glance fell across the mountains. I took in the promise painted with gentle strokes across the cloud spattered sky. It was a quiet proclamation. I AM here in the questions. I AM here in the midst of your pain. I AM here amidst the chaos. I AM in the redemption of these very dark days. I AM keeping you from being destroyed. There is no explanation for the peace I’m walking in on this day. Maybe that’s the beauty of peace, it