The end of 2016 found me stormy inside, frustrated by a year of trying to move into and on with the next chapter of business in our story. Picture a tropical storm stuck in a circling pattern at sea. (Such a positive word picture.)
Apparently, the Heavens have thought it best for Tropical Storm Annie to remain there until some things were downgraded into less destructive, more productive rainfall without the hurricane strength and furry. Go figure. Continue reading
When I think of the word transition, I desperately want to imagine myself finding a secret passage way and walking through the wardrobe into the magical world of Narnia. Voila, just stepping from one world and into another!
The childhood wonder of that picture simultaneously creates a whirl of excitement and terror for me. It’s magical, mystical and filled with monsters of epic proportion that share the common goal and pleasure of my destruction (Dang, there goes the childhood wonder!).
I have a dear friend who is 15 years younger than me and more often than not he pushes me to consider life from a different vantage point. His name is Michael.
Michael and I are unlikely friends because of our age difference and because he is a guy. But boy have we laughed, cried, argued, said I’m sorry and seen the best and the worst of each other. That happens when you work together for almost ten years.