Yesterday. Looking out the door of my life. The world was huge! The stars in the sky were vast. I saw the Milky Way, the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper. I was ready! One step and I would be in a universe so grand it was beyond my comprehension - but not beyond my reach.
I woke up. My hair wasn't cascading far beyond my shoulders in dirty-dishwater-ash-blonde tendrils. It was short (the elderly women in my congregations don't fight about short hair) and grey. I have tons more education, and almost as many additional pounds. Our kids are grown. Dear God, when did that happen?!
I was reading a column, and saw a link about a clergywomen project. I eagerly gave up the article and clicked on the link. I was so excited! I checked the dates - free! I checked the keynote - the best! YES! This one is for me!
Then I read the title in its entirety - "the young clergywomen project" (emphasis added). Young? Well, I'm young - at heart. After all, I'm the one who snuck a want-to-be clergy into a gathering (she was too young) by simply not telling her age. I'm on a diet - maybe that will help - surely by the time of the conference.... Then I saw it as big as Jupiter, right there on the registration form: "Date of Birth." What? They don't... How could they? How rude! I think I'm going to throw up.
I just saw a falling star hit the dirt.
A once new-found friend, shared: When you step out onto the ledge of all the world that you have known and prepare to step off into the darkness; You must trust that one of two things will happen. Either God will give you something solid on which to stand, or, will give you wings to fly.