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Stirrings

I’ve had fun with personal posts, things that have been going on. But face it. My life is not that spell-binding. I’m not leaving the blogasphere but I am going to speak more from my heart occasionally here and in comments “out there.”

You’ve noticed from my sidebar that I have an interest in prophecy. I love putting pieces together probably because I have a deep need to understand. The conclusions don’t have to be pleasant but I need them. Wisdom dictates that once a conclusion is made, especially if it is speculative, there must be room for lots of flexibility for change.

So bear with me. If there are topics in Bible prophecy you just aren’t prepared to discuss, so be it. However, I must.

I promise to keep one foot in reality. Being my father’s daughter, I can’t resist having fun and poking fun. With equal passion, I will address matters of concern to me. I don’t ask you to agree, I do ask you not to throw flames and spears. That’s not fun. But if you want to pull up a rock at the campfire, poke the embers, count the stars, and sing along, I’ll bring the marshmallows.

That’s what Across the Flow means.

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Across the Flow

Ok, so nobody’s asked me why I chose that title. I had two pages of cutesy, maudlin, wierd, and trite options. This one just felt right. I think it’s me. Sort of. Some would say I am so much against the flow of thoughts and ideas, it’s not funny. And sometimes you would be right on. It’s not an illustration of being non-progressive or refusing to advance or grow.  There are big deals over which I am immovable. To those who know me, this is not news. When it comes to those biggest deals, I’ll just stand there in the rapids like a rock, or move out of your way if need be, but across, not with. You can move around me or grab on. Your will is as free as mine.

For the everyday common stuff, I see myself moving across the majority’s flow, teasing, breaking the monotony, getting someone to laugh, to think, to move out of a rut, to stop, rest, look me in the eye for a moment, and maybe little hug would be in order.

Tuesday when I was killing time in Chicago between flights, I people-watched. And since very few airports provide cots, I was obliged to sit in Chili’s with a bowl of soup, then walked the concourses to the ends and back. Got my workout in! After one or two, they all started looking alike and I was wishing I had some breadcrumbs to make a trail. I noticed no one looks at anyone they aren’t traveling with, making it a very lonely, albeit crowded place. I did manage to exchange a sentence and a chuckle with a lady in Chili’s, and thanked a soldier on a 2 week break from duty in Iraq. He appreciated that.

When it was finally time to settle at my departure gate I noticed there were two flights departing from the same gate, 10 minutes apart, so no empty seats were available for waiting. I parked myself across the aisle. When the call came to board, I headed across a flow of people who don’t slowwn or look up, only look through and walk around. No “excuse me”s, no notice, no problem. Just like blending onto a freeway, they zigged, I zagged. That’s the way it goes sometimes.

Interrupting the flow makes life interesting and fun. I rather like moving across. If we bump into each other, let’s stop and talk.