This is Real Life Shit

 After years of talking about it, and dreaming about it, my collection of poetry; The Atmosphere, is a published work of art. When my publisher placed that 7"x10," softbound, 72 page book with MY name on the cover and MY picture on the back, I could do nothing but smile. It felt surreal. On my way back to work (I picked them up on my lunchbreak) I cried. I cried the purest, most sincere tears I think I've ever cried since giving birth. 

In the last 24 hours, I have been supported and blessed abundantly. I'm grateful. I'm humbled. I've been rendered speechless. I've been riding a wave of bliss. I just feel good. I'm happy. 

TODAY I GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT

Driving back to work today from dropping some books off to some friends, I get hit by a driver making a left turn. Personally, I hate left turns. As you can see my baby got pretty banged up. God is faithful. Like Forest Gump would say, "and that's all I'm going to say about that." 

While physically I'm okay-ish, I know that this accident was nothing more than a a distraction; a trick of enemy, a ploy to get me off my game. In this time of my life, I don't know why exactly, but I feel freer than I have in a very long time. I find myself smiling more. I PUBLISHED A BOOK. I'm setting boundaries and protecting my own sense balance. While an accident is inconvenient in a lot of ways, it's not the end of the world. I'm good. I can still get from point A to point B. The point is that real shit happens EVERYDAY. I'm learning to take those things that happen to me as things happening FOR me. 

Weapons form, but they do not prosper. 



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