Red Dirt Roads

I guess it didn’t make sense in the dust, but nothing ever does
And the things we think can wait are the ones that throw us over
What we bury and what we save, we can’t keep them either way
It’s always hindered or weighed, none of times turns wait

Next Thursday is my birthday, last Thursday, I woke up in Georgia listening to my Grandmother and my Father silently grieving after she held her brother’s arms while he died Wednesday night. It’s all very heady and sobering, so I’ve tried not to dwell on it more than I should.

Life has its cycles and circles us slowly with them. We have choices to make, gifts to recieve, free will to give in to, and for some of us, who are so chosen, a call to give into.
The most important things we have, the only things we keep as we age and live and die, are the people around us. I see my need to learn a perfect love more everyday. I see a need for appreciation of what we have, less alienation and painstaking division. The futility of jealousy… Why would we allow ourselves to covet the brother or sister we should always be keeping?

Deep thoughts, though simple enough. Oh the irony of how basic the profound really is.
I’m not sure but I think I am growing. The last year is full of those quiet milestones in my walk, that mean maybe whether I have something to show for myself or not, maybe God is knowing.  I don’t know if he counts but I think He journals. He keeps track of what matters.
I remind myself my doubts and society’s standards can’t be my proof of who I am or am not, more often, if God has a measuring stick though, I want to be counted there, but with a little mercy.

Last week I walked a red dirt road in Georgia and covered a lot of ground from the past, I went to a funeral a little heavy with unfinished business. I’ve watched others grieve. And I’ve prayed for mercy that I won’t make others past mistakes, that my own regret will stop tainting my future. Here’s to Georgia, here’s to loving your family, and here’s to this Thursday…


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