Random Acts of "Kindness"

PESTERED TO WRITE

Since I don’t see, nor hear my friends in high places, you might ask how I’m pestered to write. As time has passed since my father passed over, I’ve learned that many things are possible on the other side. For instance: I’ve learned that they can mess with electronics: telephones, computers, TV’s, lights just to name a few. My father didn’t know anything about computers when he passed over, although they were in existence, his memory was already affected by Alzheimer’s which didn’t allow him to learn how to use them. Now I can’t say for sure who it is that helps me with my writing — I would say “Dad” but it could just as easily be my mother, brother or ??

Writing To Pap with Love, I had PROBLEMS. Sentences disappeared, computer stuck, printer stopped — it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was receiving “help”. Once a skill is learned, it continues to be used. If what I’ve written in my thought ramble shouldn’t be shared — the ramble sticks, won’t be saved until I either fix what is causing the problem OR discard the thought. Sometimes the font changes — all of a sudden everything is in caps, or there are spacing problems or ?? I’ll leave more examples to your imagination.

But that doesn’t explain how I’m pestered to write. Just as I’ve learned that my thought ramble is incomplete or shouldn’t be shared, I’ve learned to recognize the signs that I NEED to write. Sometimes the first inkling comes from the bible: Jeremiah 1:5 “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you. before you were born I dedicated you.”
Maybe I’ll open the bible to Isaiah 42: The Servant of the Lord. Since I start the day with a random reading from the bible, the choice is endless. Recently I opened to the empty space at the ending of the Old Testament.

The message might try to get through in other ways — at church — a song “Who shall I send?” Its not like I’m looking for a message or guidance, I turn on the radio and a song gets my attention, a TV program or even a commercial.

If I’m not inspired to write, but a theme has been given to me and I’m not taking the time to explore it — I’ll have trouble sleeping. I wake in the middle of the night, realize that I’m writing in my head and be unable to go back to sleep.

I REALLY DON’T LIKE being hit on the head! I try very hard to be open to messages to avoid that. Now I don’t know if I have anything really to say, but as long as writing seems to be my JOB, I’ll keep trying to put words on paper.

Coming back from the retreat, while walking Robin, I saw two neighbors who I hadn’t seen in a long time. The first one is experiencing leg circulation problems which has restricted his ability to get out and about.
Since I last saw him he had to put his Lab down because of cancer. The same afternoon I met another neighbor who had to have a kidney removed because of cancer. Of course I shared stories with each.

Back home again — at the grocery store, I met a woman from church who has had challenges of her own. I forget how many times in the last year she has been hospitalized but it was a lot. Walking home, another person waited for me to catch up to her so we could talk. I usually pay attention when three things occur but lately I’m paying attention to two, especially when they occur back to back.

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