The only thing we ever get is that dash.
That space between birth and death.
It is hopeful, promising, wonderful.
If we use it.
Time does not wait. Every last one of us is given a certain gift, thing, that only we can do. In a biblical sense, there is a scripture that celebrates our uniqueness, declaring that we are "fearfully and wonderfully made" like clay in a potter's hands, sculpted as a wholly and completely one. Isn't that to ponder?
In the west, in America, we tend to celebrate those early unformed days of the dash. We celebrate youth, especially that ratings-and-trend-setting coveted 18-25 age range. That young adult who is still deciding who they will be apart from parental guidance and teenange angst, they get to put on "adulting" and decide who they will be.
The Millennial activists have turned the nation on it's axes and boldy declares existence and acceptance for who they are as individuals. They do not want to be swamped in like the Baby Boomer Is who were that first generation with all the stuff and opportunity. This new generation doesn't want to be a group, they want to be celebrated as that one different cherry on the coffee bean tree.
They got me to thinking about this dash.
I'm looking at thirty years behind me, when I was young and idealistic, when I finally became "legal" and thought of all the things I wanted to do. I'm looking at thirty years in front of me, when I will be older and hopefully still idealistic, and wondering what do I want to do.
In the next few years of my life, I'm looking at my only daughters and last children prepare to leave the nest. The womanist in me wonders if I have equipped them with enough to make choices in a world where they are walking out with the expectation of being equal.
I'm looking at my sons make their way in their chosen careers and that only two of them will likely change my status from mother to grandmother. I wonder about the legacy that will be part of my long family history, where will this branch grow?
Life is about changes. If it wasn't it would be boring.
Time continues to evolve.
And time remains the same.
There truly is nothing new under the sun.
We reinvent and renew.
And we change.
And it is good.
So let the change propel us to living that dash fully and leaving our gift for another to pick up and carry. That is the thing.
That space between birth and death.
It is hopeful, promising, wonderful.
If we use it.
Time does not wait. Every last one of us is given a certain gift, thing, that only we can do. In a biblical sense, there is a scripture that celebrates our uniqueness, declaring that we are "fearfully and wonderfully made" like clay in a potter's hands, sculpted as a wholly and completely one. Isn't that to ponder?
In the west, in America, we tend to celebrate those early unformed days of the dash. We celebrate youth, especially that ratings-and-trend-setting coveted 18-25 age range. That young adult who is still deciding who they will be apart from parental guidance and teenange angst, they get to put on "adulting" and decide who they will be.
The Millennial activists have turned the nation on it's axes and boldy declares existence and acceptance for who they are as individuals. They do not want to be swamped in like the Baby Boomer Is who were that first generation with all the stuff and opportunity. This new generation doesn't want to be a group, they want to be celebrated as that one different cherry on the coffee bean tree.
They got me to thinking about this dash.
I'm looking at thirty years behind me, when I was young and idealistic, when I finally became "legal" and thought of all the things I wanted to do. I'm looking at thirty years in front of me, when I will be older and hopefully still idealistic, and wondering what do I want to do.
In the next few years of my life, I'm looking at my only daughters and last children prepare to leave the nest. The womanist in me wonders if I have equipped them with enough to make choices in a world where they are walking out with the expectation of being equal.
I'm looking at my sons make their way in their chosen careers and that only two of them will likely change my status from mother to grandmother. I wonder about the legacy that will be part of my long family history, where will this branch grow?
Life is about changes. If it wasn't it would be boring.
Time continues to evolve.
And time remains the same.
There truly is nothing new under the sun.
We reinvent and renew.
And we change.
And it is good.
So let the change propel us to living that dash fully and leaving our gift for another to pick up and carry. That is the thing.
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Thoughtful dialogue is appreciated.