Anytime we're doing what God asks of us, some people just are not going to understand. Count on it. But others will and they're the ones we're meant to help.
During the 5 days Tom was in Toronto, we couldn't talk on the phone because my computer was down and we have Magic Jack (which is hardly ever magic) and Tom said don't plug that thing into his computer lest it mess it up. As it was, Tom's cell phone didn't work in Canada (nobody told him that would happen, but now he knows), then his work email (on his work laptop) stopped working on Tuesday (I'd been emailing him there). Then he called via the motel phone on Wednesday, but my computer still wasn't fixed (though I did hear his message Thursday by way of my Yahoo box on his computer here, which surprised me since I didn't know Magic Jack could record a message while not being plugged in).
Basically? For 5 days Tom and I couldn't talk to each other and it felt like the 1800's around here communication-wise.
So I watched a Calvin and Hobbes documentary on Netflix.
Put together by rabid fans of the mysterious, only-3-known-photos-in-existence-Sam-Watterson (the strip's creator), the documentary interviewed folks who own all the Calvin and Hobbes collection books and still read and glean lessons from them everyday.
It got kinda long and my brain slipped into la-la-la mode until one fan said something like, "And there was Calvin with his stuffed tiger experiencing all these terrific, hairy adventures stemming from his imagination while the world still just looked oh-hum-normal to his family and friends."
And this is where you must forgive me, for then I thought, "Wait a minute! I'm kind-of like Calvin in this blog." I have adventures which Real Life folks near me never see, but you do when I write about them. You know, like how:
... I still experience tons of 1950's days here in Buffalo. The old houses and values, people holding doors open for me in town, etc. And when Spring arrives, this tired world feels glorious and new and promising.
... Tom and I tour all these decorated-in-the-1950's estate sale houses and it's no longer the 21st century. And how God places trinkets on tables in those old rooms just for me.
... here in my own home I'm June Cleaver, Donna Reed and other retro-wives, combined. I almost see a nostalgic mist over my rooms, my front porch, yard and neighborhood.
... and how I still believe God is always walking beside me and huge! Big enough to do anything, heal anybody and change people's hearts and the way they view this precious life He gave them, even in 2016.
And well, you know if you've read here long--more. More everyday magic, more wonder, more awe.
Oh, sometimes I read beautiful thought-provoking blogs dreamily, hauntingly written and I wish God would let me write that way here. Some people have dismissed my blog as drivel, piffel--they weren't able to read the important how-God's-setting-me-free amongst my simplistic writing style. I could try to write differently (and have), yet God would no longer be here to help me. And that's too disastrous to think about.
Each of us must decide to obey God rather than men--and--ones own fleeting desires.
So I'll write as He nudges me to (of course, I can always improve upon that) and will remain a type of weird, creative Calvin in a world which pressures its inhabitants to be like everyone else. To which I say no thanks, for always, God has something more fulfilling, more exciting in store.
"Neglect not the gift that is within you..." ... 1 Timothy 4:14
Use your imagination. Be a grown-up, creative, balanced Calvin. :)