There are many ghosts in my life. They have just recently begun to reveal themselves, floating up from my subconscience, bringing good and not so good memories. Their sort glow of white or blue, hazy, fog-like. But they have always been there, just below the surface of my mind. They are the aberations of people in my life, coming and going, softly showing me the way to go.
They are the people who spoke into my life, or walked in unannounced, teaching me lessons too important to ignore. But at times, they are the ones I disregarded. I didn't heed the wisdom they brought, in soothing words or painful deeds. I barely caught a glimpse of them, in their milky white.
They are the people whom God sent to guide me. They demonstrated sane thinking, or their lessons danced of insanity. They spoke words of wisdom into my life, or guided me with a gentle hand. I did not recognize them for what they were. I did not see the hand of God.
They were my friends and family and lovers, my teachers, my counselors, therapists, my 12Step group members, and even people I have never formally met, whom God has used to tell me he is watching over me, and guiding me.
I smile softly at my ghosts, as they float through the rooms in my mind. I owe my life to some of these ghosts, who materialized and gave words of wisdom and pointed out the path to take.
One day I hope to be a ghost, floating up from some far lost memory, a fleeting thought in someone's day. And if by chance they pause to reflect, they too will remember words of wisdom, words I tried to carry into their lives, I pray. Mac 2007
They are the people who spoke into my life, or walked in unannounced, teaching me lessons too important to ignore. But at times, they are the ones I disregarded. I didn't heed the wisdom they brought, in soothing words or painful deeds. I barely caught a glimpse of them, in their milky white.
They are the people whom God sent to guide me. They demonstrated sane thinking, or their lessons danced of insanity. They spoke words of wisdom into my life, or guided me with a gentle hand. I did not recognize them for what they were. I did not see the hand of God.
They were my friends and family and lovers, my teachers, my counselors, therapists, my 12Step group members, and even people I have never formally met, whom God has used to tell me he is watching over me, and guiding me.
I smile softly at my ghosts, as they float through the rooms in my mind. I owe my life to some of these ghosts, who materialized and gave words of wisdom and pointed out the path to take.
One day I hope to be a ghost, floating up from some far lost memory, a fleeting thought in someone's day. And if by chance they pause to reflect, they too will remember words of wisdom, words I tried to carry into their lives, I pray. Mac 2007
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