Another Mish Mash

Post 283

A lot of unrelated things have taken place the last couple of weeks, so I’ll summarize them.

The memorial beach volleyball tournament announcement went out last week, and for the first time in a long time, I went into Mo’s phone and account to post it. As happens with Facebook, I scrolled to take a peek at the friends who had posted in her feed. Of course I only knew a handful personally, but there was yet another marriage of a past teammate, and the cute baby pictures of many more. It does hurt knowing she died before she got to experience that kind of joy, but at the same time, where she is, it’s already better than our best days. I suppose it hurts more for me.

I’ve spent the last couple of days figuring out my Ohio trip, who I get to stay overnight with and when, hoping others will stop by the tournament. It's going to be good to see the people who knew Mo. It will hurt a lot to be at the place she played the most - dozens of competitions, lots of good times. It will be surreal to be there without her.

Next up, the editor returned his edits of my upcoming book, The Rebel’s Hike, so I spent the evenings this week incorporating them, and as I did so, sending in parts to S's grandma, her legal guardian who has become a friend of mine - so she knows exactly what S had helped produce. This book, if marketed correctly, has the potential to really change lives, and she agreed texting, “I just finished. I have laughed and I have cried. I think God is going to do great things with this book!!!”

On Wednesday, most of the junior high kids I spent a lot of time with since summer of 2021, graduated 8th grade. My how they have changed and matured, especially this past year. I am so proud of them. Many of these kids were inspiration for the overall message in the book, and they are going to read the digital version starting in the next couple of weeks as we hold a book club for it over the summer. In my mind, these kids are a big key to the book’s success, but we’ll see what God rolls out.

Third, more sadness is still hanging around from the big crash on Mother’s Day. It is dissipating slowly, probably because her loss is really evident preparing for the tournament, missing her input on the book, and nearing the 18-month mark next month. I see butterflies a lot, and GBH occasionally, but a few days ago, another strange thing happened. I’ve eluded that things have happened this year, and I believe I’ve only shared the details once, but this one needs to be told, hopefully coherently.

Last September when my friend Jeanne and I took a trip to North Georgia, I bought some fragrant wax cubes for a warmer I keep out in my great room. I’m sure I picked it because it was called “Heavenly”, but I also adore the smell. I didn't use them much, however. Flash forward to March 16th when I took the dog for her walk. At the entrance to a subdivision, an amazing aroma filled my nostrils as I crossed in front of it. I thought, “oh, that smells like heaven!” I took a picture and think they are a vine of southern flowers called Carolina Jessamine.

Later that morning, I don't remember how now, but it occurred to me I knew that smell or something, and I must have then looked at the label for the wax cubes, and was stunned it was called “Heavenly.” My subconscious remembered somehow for that to have been connected. I remember excitedly calling my cousin to tell her.

It had been a couple weeks since I last used that wax warmer, but in the middle of the morning on Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday last week (ugh my brain!), when I entered my kitchen, there was a vibrant smell of “Heavenly.” How could this be? Now being used to “strange” things this year, I excitedly asked, “Mo, is that you? You’re here? I’m so glad. Thank you.” It stuck around for a bit, but was gone in a couple hours.

I can't explain this at all. The only other time anything like that happened was last spring or summer when hubby and I suddenly smelled the sweet odor of birthday cake upon turning on our ceiling fan. Strange indeed! We only know or see partly on Earth, and this type of things confirms that.

Finally, y'all know I like to listen to podcasts while I walk. For some real intense dialogue about Christianity, I recently listened to one with Jordan Peterson and Russell Brand, a British comedian and actor, who lived on the wild side most of his life. Russell has an intelligence and vocabulary that seems unreal, and mixed with his accent and humor, it was very entertaining. Russell was recently baptized into the Christian faith, and as he says, his eyes are now open to reality.

Having enjoyed that one so much, upon the recommendation of a woman who is new to the Tuesday evening Bible study, I began listening to a podcast with Mr. Brand and an intellect/academic named Brett Weinstein. I have not finished it yet, but knew I’d have something to say. Oh Brett, with all of his credentialing, his ego itself will not allow him to believe. He admitted he understands that Earth itself is a literal speck of dust in the cosmos in which it resides, but oh no, life here has no real PURPOSE. Even writing it sounds silly. The cosmos being configured the way they are were meant to produce life on our planet so the Creator could have relationships with beings in His image, holding some of the traits he himself holds, in a freewill atmosphere of love. Love by definition cannot be made of force, it has to be made by choice. That’s it. He’ll keep the ones who love him by choice, and do away with the ones who CHOOSE self. The ones with the most intelligence love their knowledge so much, they are not open to things they just can't grasp. They miss the wonderment of knowing but not knowing.

Well, that’s a wrap for today. Happy Memorial day. I hope you do something that seers itself as a lasting memory.