From: Here

It is 4:30a.m. and I am sitting here at my dining room table saying what I need to say.  You see when the street lights come on its show time.  I required to look into the light of eyes of those I meet and smile, perform and make sure I say what is comfortable for everyone else.  You see from here; those I meet have a script for me.  If I alter the script in any way; eyes stretch and roll.  You know the look that is on someones face when they feel certain that they have provided you the script and now listening to you speak as though you hired an editor.

From here my 2 adult children have prepared a script that reads something like this ” Dear Mom, I know you think you taught us morals, values, ethics, love etc. simply nod your head in agreement when I make decisions to the contrary, and by the way go to Walmart and send me money.”

From here the church has a script for me that is committed to memory to this:  enter the sanctuary with praise, sip on this dose of denial, don’t forget to smile.  Applaud those who are on stage, expose your flaws, post on Facebook how that made you feel, trust me with your less than minimum wage salary.  Lets do this again next week same time next week.  Oh if anything changes be sure to like on facebook.

From here at work if I could tell a friend from a foe it would help with reading the script.  Actually everywhere I step there is poo lying in my wake.  It is like walking in a mine field.  Careful of who I speak to and what I say.   To me it’s like trying to plant a seed on thorny ground.  Though it can be done, it’s still a process of waiting for results.  Yes I can do the job, yes the flowers will bloom.  They may require the support of  water,  energy and time.  Yet I am served with an extended hand shake, a smile and a hand that I do not see that is equipped with a warm knife in my back.

From here at home the script is rather simple; I receive love, support, prayer and partnership.  Here I help to write the script that reads something like this ” I took a leap of faith or professional suicide in January to travel in February to a place I have never heard of, to work in an industry that I love and respect.  My husband dropped everything to support e a come with me on this journey.  I prayed that he too would find his place as well.  The script turns to prayer:  Lord, please let nothing that we have been through to get here be wasted.

From here my friends and family are in my home town.  They each wish me well yet some had challenges with my leaving.  I have never lived away from them before.  Some were afraid for me while others loved and supported my decision to try something different.  I remember saying with them that I felt I would receive the development that I need to move forward for a better quality of life.

From here I may have to go it alone.

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