I remember the first time I met my biological father. It was 1976 and I was
twelve years old when he pulled up in front of our apartment. When he got out
of his gold Lincoln Continental, my first thoughts were, Wow, he's big, tall,
and handsome, and rich! Standing at six-foot-five, solid muscle, with red curly hair,
green eyes, and freckles, I thought he was walking perfection. These were the
thoughts of a child who had always dreamed of meeting her 'real' father, the man who
would one day come and take her away to a better life.
But reality descended and I soon learned his life was far from perfect. He'd won his car and money in the Detroit lottery, which was where he lived at the time. He was married and I discovered that I had two more brothers and a sister. I was even privileged to stay with him and his lovely wife for a few days later that year and met my siblings. Sadly, my father's life began to quickly unravel.
But reality descended and I soon learned his life was far from perfect. He'd won his car and money in the Detroit lottery, which was where he lived at the time. He was married and I discovered that I had two more brothers and a sister. I was even privileged to stay with him and his lovely wife for a few days later that year and met my siblings. Sadly, my father's life began to quickly unravel.
The culprit: drug addiction.
Years later after his divorce, he moved back to Asheville, NC. (our hometown) and tried to clean himself up. After a major battle, he did somewhat. He enrolled in the local technical college, got his GED, and took some classes, wanting to better himself. He wanted more out of life. He now had goals. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to see his aspirations come to past.
He ended up being brutally murdered. He was only thirty-eight.
My mother was an alcoholic all her life, yet she was one of the most talented people I had ever known. She was an excellent seamstress, she could sing, paint, play the guitar, and of course, cook up a storm.
She finally put the bottle down and became sober, wanting to better her life. Unfortunately, she did not have time to fulfill the secret dreams she kept inside. Due to the long effects of alcohol, she had a heart attack and died, three days before her forty-ninth birthday.
When I finally overcame my own addictions, moved away, and married my amazing husband, I was told by others that I thought I was better than them. I have never considered myself better than anyone, and I will always remember where I came from. But . . . I was better than that kind of life. I wanted more. I had aspirations, and I still do. Some have come true and some I have yet to reach, but I will never stop seeking more in life. Yes, we should be content and thankful always, but contentment should never stunt eternal growth. Which is where our thoughts should ALWAYS be fixed, on eternal things.
God has so much in store for each of us. He has so much He wants to give us. Some of those blessings will be in this life, and some may not be until the next. Our task is to live worthy of those blessings so we can be prepared to receive them whenever He chooses to send them. He has given us all some kind of gift or talent that we should be constantly using or expanding, not hiding it away or allowing it to remain dormant, buried under grievous weaknesses, unable to grow and do what those talents are meant to do, which is to inspire others, thereby helping us reach our divine potential. We can't waste a single gift. We can't waste a single moment.
Years later after his divorce, he moved back to Asheville, NC. (our hometown) and tried to clean himself up. After a major battle, he did somewhat. He enrolled in the local technical college, got his GED, and took some classes, wanting to better himself. He wanted more out of life. He now had goals. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to see his aspirations come to past.
He ended up being brutally murdered. He was only thirty-eight.
My mother was an alcoholic all her life, yet she was one of the most talented people I had ever known. She was an excellent seamstress, she could sing, paint, play the guitar, and of course, cook up a storm.
She finally put the bottle down and became sober, wanting to better her life. Unfortunately, she did not have time to fulfill the secret dreams she kept inside. Due to the long effects of alcohol, she had a heart attack and died, three days before her forty-ninth birthday.
When I finally overcame my own addictions, moved away, and married my amazing husband, I was told by others that I thought I was better than them. I have never considered myself better than anyone, and I will always remember where I came from. But . . . I was better than that kind of life. I wanted more. I had aspirations, and I still do. Some have come true and some I have yet to reach, but I will never stop seeking more in life. Yes, we should be content and thankful always, but contentment should never stunt eternal growth. Which is where our thoughts should ALWAYS be fixed, on eternal things.
God has so much in store for each of us. He has so much He wants to give us. Some of those blessings will be in this life, and some may not be until the next. Our task is to live worthy of those blessings so we can be prepared to receive them whenever He chooses to send them. He has given us all some kind of gift or talent that we should be constantly using or expanding, not hiding it away or allowing it to remain dormant, buried under grievous weaknesses, unable to grow and do what those talents are meant to do, which is to inspire others, thereby helping us reach our divine potential. We can't waste a single gift. We can't waste a single moment.
Time is growing short, the final act of this life drawing to a close, and our time on the earth is fixed and set. Every choice we make is vital, including what we do with our time and talents. I pray every day that Heavenly Father will guide my hand and help me use whatever gifts He has given me in His service and not waste them.This is my prayer for each of us. Happy Sabbath :-)
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