Friday, October 28, 2011


I know it's been a minute, a few weeks in fact; to my regular followers I apologize. So much as happened between the last post and today. Sad times and glad times and all of it in between. Perusing through my past post, the thread of commonality remains super visible. In a round-about way, I seem always to be speaking about the power of the truth. The fact that many choose to deny the truth will never stop baffling me. I mean life could be better for everyone if we consciously examined and applied the truth. In an effort not to bore you I won't be directly speaking on the read that....directly!! Come on now, I gotta be me, right?

I have had some amazing teachers in my journey. Mrs. Russell, my 2nd grade teacher at Franklin sparked my initial interest in writing. That brown red and blue lined paper became my friend. My stories were short and horribly misspelled. When we didn't know how to spell a work correctly we were to take a small piece of paper up to her desk and ask her to spell it right for us. Yeah I didn't do that so much. Further evidence of my horrendous abilities came with the in class spelling bee!! Yep I was out the first round. But I wasn't too upset. I decided I would still write my stories misspelled and all.

3rd grade with Mrs. Sutton was nice! I was a semi big kid; at that time Franklin only went to the 4th grade. Timed math sheets in Mrs. Sutton's class was my thorn. The moment she said begin I was done. Pressure and I aren't good friends. I thought I knew my multiplication but the time math sheets bore no evidence of this fact. After awhile,I got better, not great but better. But I knew then math was NOT my subject---yeah might as well cross mathematian off my list of future careers!!

4th grade was a mixture of joy and pain. Mr. Warr was my teacher that year. He knew my mom and dad and I guess this fact added pressure to my success. Mr. Warr ensured I did my best on every assignment. One in particular, the I had a Dream Essay Writing Contest, I guess was his trying of my application of knowledge. Like my peers, I completed my essay with pride and turned it in. Mr. Warr looked it over and gave it back to me. You can do better he said. I rewrote that essay 3 or 4 times. The results of Mr. Warr insisting: I won the first place in the contest.

And there it was. The budding of my passion.

We can never say our purpose is eluding us. It may be buried within the busyness of our life, but it's there. There's something in your life that you love and would leave all just to have a small piece of it. Why not have it all?? Your passion is your purpose. It pleases every man's heart to follow that individual drum his ear only hears. Make no excuses to take the risk to follow that joy. You were created to follow it. You were birthed with that passion, allow it to grow. Feed it, nurture it, and allow it to manifest in your life.

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