Like Steve McQueen

I don't like Sheryl Crow.

There's no real reason...I just don't normally do "chick rock." Although I am a huge fan of the Indigo Girls...who I suppose aren't rock anyway...so the point still stands.

As I was driving home tonight and the shuffle on my iPod brought forth this song... I felt a wash of release. Like Steve McQueen...all I need's a fast machine and I'm going to make it alright. Like Steve McQueen, underneath your radar screen, you'll never catch me tonight.



It's been a ..... funny .... sort of week, but I should be back by.... Monday.

Forever left behind

There are no simple people in my life.

Simple people don't need or want me. Simple people think I'm too deep, brooding, or critical...take your pick. Simple people, too, are unrewarding and predictable. "A" causes them to do "B" and they will forever break their necks because they want the cheese. I am not a Shepard of the Simple.

That leaves the rest. The complicated. The broken. The dejected. The offended. The betrayed. Unto these have I been called...and by these will I be left....and I suppose that's the way of the world. Once the bird's broken wing is mended, it leaves the nest. It doesn't need you any more...if it ever really did in the first place.

I have often mused at the people to walk through my life. Most of them have been people who I have loved intensely. People for whom, come hell or high water, I would embattle myself. Reciprocity was nice, but not always given...and even that is okay. There have also been those for whom hatred would not have been too strong a word. There have never been people who affected me neither one way or another.

God has asked me to help his children. For my entire life he has placed me in relationships of need and made me the primary giver. I have been a conduit of grace, love, and mercy for many...some of whom later told me, while at the time I was unaware. That is what I do. More so than that, it is who I am, in Christ. God has provided for people through me. God has mended many wings by directing my hands and heart. Many are soaring......and I remain on the ground.

Each time I am left...I thought it would become easier. Each time some one moves on, I pray for a sense of relief and detachment and joy at the healing. Each time I feel true joy in seeing them go, and pray sincerely that the inevitable heartache won't set in.....but it always does....and I'm afraid it always will.

People move on. They have lives, boyfriends, girlfriends, family, friends...but I remain a remnant of their past. A, hopefully, positive memory on the fading horizon of what was their present.... I don't know how much longer I can handle it.