Life is Drama

 

In looking for something, I found treasures…I think I have used that phrase before...anyway...

Well, not treasures exactly.  Journals from years ago, I found my journals. 

At times throughout life, I have kept one or more journals at any given time.  They would be filled with everything—a record of good and bad events, thoughts, and concerns.

In my childhood, there was nothing print-worthy happening in my opinion, so my journals-diaries were little snippets of drama.  A verruca wart on my foot was exaggerated to be a crippling illness.  That would then morph into life threatening.  To make the diary appear even more dramatic, I dribbled some cologne water over entries to create tear smears.  Oh, I was big on drama as a child, my father always maintained.

Drama must be part of life in one shape or another.  Falling in love, getting married, childbirth—those are darned dramatic.  I have photos to prove it!

But, the little dramas, the ones that are interspersed on a daily basis?  

Losing one’s car keys?  Not drama.  Standing in line at Starbuck’s behind an elderly couple holding hands?  That’s drama.  Their whole life was played out before me in simple gestures, soft looks, few words, and even their order. 

She had “…the decaf coffee with vanilla syrup…not too much, now…and room for creamer…”  He had the “…full-strength stuff, and …NO, I will not have decaf instead….”  (There lays a whole one act play, filled to the brim with drama, leaving a little room for cream:)  “…leave room for cream…you have real cream, dontcha? Not that fake stuff they call creamer…”

See what I mean?  Real drama.  I wanted to follow them to a table, but my order was ‘to go’.  Who knows what I missed? 

Those journals covered months!  Months, I tell you. They morphed into years without realizing it. 

 

Did You Know?

Did you know?

Journals have always held my thoughts and observations. My church journal was one in which I outlined the sermon for that day.  This is how my brain works. Writing holds words in place.

I was sorting through my pile of journals and came across one from twenty years ago, when life seemed much simpler, in line with my-then organized life.  The following was from those golden times.

Did you know that the earth is only 50,000 years old?  Some religious people settled down to log lifespans in 24 hour segments and came out with 50,000 years. Also, when God created the sun and moon, He put it down in 24 hours time bits.

Dinosaurs? They were the remains of an earlier version of the world, before God re-created it. Plus, dinosaurs were really part of satan's plan to mess with the whole creation thing.

Did you know that extraterrestrials are really demons?  All those lights and such are ways to deceive us.  Wow.

Did you know that hypnotism opens one's soul to be taken over by demons' takeover? 

Did you know ghosts are really just demons? They are not real. Just evil.

Did you know that horoscopes are a way to divert the faithful. Psychics are also evil and deceptive, and they have demons as part of their family line.

These thoughts are from sermons presented by a man whom I truly respect, an intelligent man. But, even way back then, as I wrote all above, I also wrote: "Really? I mean, really?"

To believe sincerely requires one to understand. Facts and faith go together. 

P.S.
God does not wear a wrist watch. He does not need to log time the way we do. He has control over time.

Drama of Life

In looking for something, I found treasures…I think I have used that phrase before...anyway...

Well, not treasures exactly.  Journals from years ago, I found my journals. 

At times throughout life, I have kept one or more journals at any given time.  They would be filled with everything—a record of good and bad events, thoughts, and concerns.

In my childhood, there was nothing print-worthy happening in my opinion, so my journals-diaries were little snippets of drama.  A verruca wart on my foot was exaggerated to be a crippling illness.  That would then morph into life threatening.  To make the diary appear even more dramatic, I dribbled some cologne water over entries to create tear smears.  Oh, I was big on drama as a child, my father always maintained.

Drama must be part of life in one shape or another.  Falling in love, getting married, childbirth—those are darned dramatic.  I have photos to prove it!

But, the little dramas, the ones that are interspersed on a daily basis?  Now, those are the stuff of life. 

Losing one’s car keys?  Not drama.  Standing in line at Starbuck’s behind an elderly couple holding hands?  That’s drama.  Their whole life was played out before me in simple gestures, soft looks, few words, and even their order. 

She had “…the decaf coffee with vanilla syrup…not too much, now…and room for creamer…”  He had the “…full-strength stuff, and …NO, I will not have decaf instead….”  See?  There lays a whole one act play, filled to the brim with drama, leaving a little room for cream:  “…leave room for cream…you have real cream, dontcha? Not that fake stuff they call creamer…”

See what I mean?  Real drama.  I wanted to follow them to a table, but my order was ‘to go’.  Who knows what I missed? 

Those journals will have months!  months, I tell you, of future postings.  I can feel the drama vibrating through the cardboard covers.