Livin' Small

What a sight
It is to sit
Outside at night.
Taking my mind
Back to another time.

The busyness took over
And lost my contact
With the earth.
Oh the wonderment
Of what God created
Seems to have gone
Silently, quietly away.

Now here I sit in dusk
Seeing the moon and stars
Break through the skies husk
Revealing God’s hand once again
To my heart once connected
Desiring to find a way to regain
All that was lost

A day or two ago Larry Gray, who grew up in my neck of the woods wrote something about tobacco barns and it made me think about my youth as well. Not until this evening did it settle in my heart of those days as I stood in a light drizzle. I was under the trees along the edge of my yard out of the rain as the day subsided and the dark of night came upon me. The contrasts of light and dark, the fullness of the leaves in the trees. The sound of raindrops falling through those leaves and dripping to the ground. I could see the small droplets of rain falling out in the open area of the yard. It reminded me of the times on the farm when work had ceased for the day, tobacco was curing in the barns and you could smell the aroma of the drying leaves.

Many times toward the end of summer I would go sit under the tin roofed shelter that ran between the barns where perhaps a couple of weeks before the hustle and bustle of women running on about how so and so was such a hussy or who’s husband stayed out drinking all the weekend was the talk of the day. I’m sure there was talk about missing their favorite soap opera. There were the typical horn worms and snakes, dead of course, left in the tobacco trucks by the field hands to scare these women out of their wits.

But now there was quiet. Just the sound of rain on the tin roof. My dad, would lay tobacco sticks up in the racks near the top and would put quilts on them so he could go out there and sleep at night sometimes so he could be close to the curing tobacco. I don’t know why for sure. I could see it if it were even earlier times when the curing process was done by wood. By then it was done by LP gas.

As I crawled up on dad’s homemade bed I took in all that was nature around me. The squirrels that played around in the pines next to the shelter were always amusing. I could see off in the woods not too far away our hogs foraging for something to eat. We kept them fenced in through the woods behind the house. I could hear the guineas making noise off across the big ditch down in the field. Occasionally I would see a deer wandering across the field heading for the field over on Uncle Snodie’s farm.

Quiet time under the shelter and the tobacco barns was always a place to connect with nature.

Lately and sporadically I find I might have something on my mind, but mostly not. I don’t know why other than my thoughts on life have become fairly tiring. Mundaneness has become too overreaching into my life. Not that that is a bad thing. Maybe it’s not that. Libby and I have a very interesting life, but to get up at four in the morning and go to work and come home tired and to go to bed by seven or eight is more of what I speak about. Weekends also go quickly. Time for change is needed and hopefully not in a bad direction.

Libby and I want to travel and see things, places and new people. Due to my divorce being put on hold month after month leaves us both tired and exasperated over it’s grip on us not being able to do more. We’re in a Corvette Club and would like to attend more of the outings they plan, but don’t have the money to comfortably do so.

Political upheaval and scandals have taken away my respect for governmental rule. I have no faith in politicians any more. Oh, there are but few of them left to depend on to cover my back, so there is still a glimmer of such. Working for the government has been a very fulfilling experience and I know I have benefited from it and continue to do so. My problem with it is I sense all Federal employees will soon find their stability falling away and will become questionable over time as to their ability to make a lifelong career of it as I have done.

Enough for now.

I’m back home this evening after a weekend up on Petersburg, VA with Libby at my brother’s place.  That would be Mike and Debbie.  I got us free tickets to the drag races across the road practically from where they live. . .the Viriginia Motorsports Park.  We got there Friday evening and stayed till around two this afternoon.  We got back home with one stop at the Cracker Barrel in Greenville for dinner with Libby’s daughter, Beverly.  She started crying when we started talking.  Her boyfriend had just texted her with a breaking up message.  I feel sorry for her.

Lib and I both missed being in church this morning.  We have become attached to this group of people at First Christian Church in Richlands.  There’s always something to do with them.  I’ve taken up playing drums in their Saturday evening contemporary worship service.  It’s interesting to say the least.  I hadn’t picked up a set of stick in at least six years.   Maybe more.  I have done things here that I would not have done five years ago.  I was a “disciple” in their Maundy Thursday service where I portrayed a disciple in their re-enactment of the Last Supper.   In all it was quite moving.  Then, Easter morning Lib and I attended the Sunrise Service and later had breakfast at my old church.  I feel God has brought me full circle now.  I feel his Spirit working not only in me, but Libby as well.

Take this for instance.  Wednesday evening the pastor made an announcement that some of the pew seat bottoms had been taken out for reupholstering and there were more needing new covering than anticipated by about an extra $1k.  Immediately God spoke to me to give $100.  On the way home I told Libby about it and she was a little upset that I didn’t consult with her, but later admitted God had spoken the same figure to her, but she, knowing me as she does, thought to herself, nah, Jim wouldn’t go for that and then began to reason lower numbers.  But when she saw me write a check for $100 she was a bit taken back by it.  She had no idea I would do such and told me what she had heard God say.  I told her I was thrilled that she heard God speak the same amount to her as I heard.  We have been tuned like this for quite some time even down to ordering off a menu when we eat out somewhere.  We think very much alike.

I have court next week.  I can only hope that I heard God speak to me concerning it.  Divorce is something that needs to be finalized.  All is done except for the final decree.  He spoke to me not to worry about it.  He was giving me favor in the matter.  I leave it up to Him.

Time for me to hit the bed.  Four comes early.

It’s Friday evening.  It’s been a normal week.  Normal things, normal happenings, normal life.

I watch and read the things my friends post on Facebook.  I have found one person that I once worked with who has a thirst for the wonders of being.  Just being.  She looks into the sky and wonders the how and why of it all.  I told her with the insightful questions she posts she should blog these things so she can go back later and see how she’s progressed in her quest for the meaning of life.

This put me to thinking this evening when I took my girls outside for their evening walk before bed.  I stood off in the dark of the back-end of the carport while they stood in the light.  My thoughts drifted to the undisputable truth that my most favorite part of the day is when I can hold Libby close to me in my arms.  The feel of her breath against my face, the touch of her arms around me.  The warm touch of skin against skin.  Her inviting kisses that take me into another realm of being.  She’s what has helped heal me from my past and kept me alive.  I can hold her and feel like I was plugged into an energy source from which I can draw fresh new life.  Touch.  A long forgotten art that stirs emotional satisfaction.  The spirit of another reverberates from one being to another.  There’s never an overload.  Just the right amount of exchange to make one another drift off to sleep fulfilled, ready for another day.

As I moved over to the light where my girls were I looked up to see the stars above.  A universe so full and vibrant with life that is unknown to those who have no wonderment of anything above ground level.  Most are like chickens that peck the ground looking for something to feed them.  I’m reminded I’m an eagle who soars high in the skies and yes, looking downward when hungry, but it presents a broader range of objectives to choose from for the menu.  But my main thought is propelled to look at all my surroundings from a higher perspective.  Not only do I look down, but I also look up.  I’m feeling the air for the currents that can take me higher as I soar on open wing.  But most of all the night sky shows me what can’t be seen in the light of day and that is the vastness of space that lies beyond the haze of the sky above.  Daylight has its rightful place to show us the way without stumbling, but night has its place too.  In it we tend to grow even though the path is not clear.  We gain the understanding of our place in the vastness of the universe.

I realize this body is merely a suit in which my spirit may guide my soul.  My spirit is guided by my God.  He is supreme.  He created me.  His will is what spurs me on.  Leaving

Libby

this body doesn’t end my existence.  It frees it to be more than an earthbound being.  I accept that.

Libby, I love.  To her I have given my heart.  Why?  Because she has given me things in life I have never had.  A touch, a giving spirit are her most marked attributes.  But there are so many more.  I can see in her eyes that she truly loves me and cares for me.  And she tells me constantly, sometimes asking if she says it too much.  My answer is “No, it’s never too much”.

As of late I’ve started to wonder.  With each succeeding year I grow older, less able, less attentive.  I have less memory and stamina.

My most intriguing of thoughts is why I have no emotion.  No unction, no feelings.  I think to myself what shall I do to re-establish my emotional side or maybe it’s something entirely different. 

There are things I definitely know, such as I’m where I’m supposed to be.  I’m with who I’m supposed to be with.  I can feel the connection.  It’s real.  It’s right, but there is no emotion attached to it.

Is this because I’m getting to an age of belief without having to have emotion to affect me? 

This evening I asked God would it take another mental breaking to obtain my emotional state and before I could finish my question a resounding “Yes” was my answer.  So, God, how and why?  Why does it necessitate another mental breaking to get me back to that state of being?

I suppose in the coming time I will know.  It will come to me and I will know.  Libby will know.  All who are close to me will know.  My only hope that it doesn’t have a physical consequence to it as well.  Time will tell.

Lately it seems that Libby has taken on a new food fetish.  I’ve always added salsa to my mac n cheese to give it some kick.  But she’s taken it to a new level.  Baby limas, black-eyed peas and scrambled eggs are not left to themselves without the inclusion of salsa.  She has put on a pot of pinto beans this evening.  Where will it all end?

She loves this particular brand as it has no sugar added.  It is more of a natural style of salsa.  It’s usually only found in the true Mexican section in our local supermarket, not down the isle with Pace’s, Old El Paso and the other assortment of Mexican style foods.  It was me that got her onto this brand, because I wanted to try something that appeared to be more authentic.

Libby is a beautiful woman with dangerous curves.  I wouldn’t have her any other way.  Not skin stretched over bones for me.  She wants to lose weight, but I told her she doesn’t have to, but she insists she needs to for reasons other than vanity.  It’s her health, therefore I support her wish to do so.

If this salsa is a sign of her desire, so be it.  This is not to say she hasn’t watched the calories and eating healthy foods.  She does.  It’s not the “salsa” diet.  It’s a part of what she’s doing, but it appears to play an important role in her diet to give her flavor she can enjoy.

Either way, I love her and support her in her latest endeavor, even though I find the salsa to be her “gone wild” food.  It’s cool with me.

It’s early evening

And I sit here alone

My love is in the bed

Sick with a cold.

My mind is hushed

My heart is open

With my thoughts

I blushed.

I love her so much

She’s my dream real

I love her touch.

Her voice so soft

In my ear

When she says to me

I love you

Like bees love honey.

And I say to her

I love you like

A fat baby

Loves cake.

I ran up the door, opened the stairs,

Said my pajamas and put on my prayers –

Turned off my bed, tumbled into my light,

And all because she kissed me good-night!

~Author Unknown