Like every passion junkie before me, I have not always used my
powers for good. I have a past. If I let it bother me, I’d be afraid to open the closets for fear of all the skeletons
that would tumble onto the floor. Over the years, I’ve truly learned what it means to be forgiven and I know that my God loves me quite unconditionally. I am at rest with the past and hardly ever let it rain on my passionista parade.
Hardly ever. Except for nights like tonight.
Then it creeps in with an unexpected phone call. And you realize for the first time in a long time that you have absolutely no control to fix your past mistakes. Even though life has gone on, there are still those broken jagged places that will cut you every single time. In spite of all my repentance and face time before My God, I still grieve and I still hurt!
Oh yes, I cry out to my God. I ask for some way to fix these pieces and put them back together. I hope for some divine revelation that will allow my sci-fi mind do invent the time machine. I would surely do it all differently and everything will be perfect. I imagine what life would be without all those passions going violently astray and in the wrong direction. I dream of white picket fences and all the family coming together in our perfect corner of the world.
Then I wake up from all the drama of my musings and realize that these are the very things that have made me this sparkling rendition of passion and flair that I am now. To change one piece of the failures and disappointments would take us to a much different place; A place with less compassion for the throw away people of the world. The ones who I am drawn to at ever corner ~~ at Chic fill a, the Wal-Mart, at the pool and everywhere else I go.
I constantly give out my number, my blog address, my face book and other ways that people can touch base with me. That’s why every time I have a chance to pray or look someone in the eyes and say it’s gonna be okay I do it with BOLDNESS and PAZZAZ. Oh sure you betcha!
So the moral of the story is that there are going to be places that we can’t fix. Not with duck tape (I’m a redneck passionista-my tape is in colors now) gorilla glue, or anything else. It can heal, reopen, heal and reopen again. We must keep going, keep asking for help if we need to, cry, repent, scream, jump up and down or whatever it takes to get through these moments.
Me, I usually cry. But then it’s back in the game because the world doesn’t stop for me and my hiccups.
Get back up! Trust me! Wipe those tears away, wash your face and adjust your makeup.
We will live to fight another day for sure. That old wound may bother us sometimes, but we will live. We will do what we must. We will go on! We will fight for our passions and our loved ones.
Broken or not. Fixed or not! We will. Trust me. My tears are dried and I’m ready to face a brand new day.