I know that when I die, my life will flash in my mind’s eye and it will be VIVID. That is how I remember everything to be—very vivid. The colors, the sounds, the tastes—they’re unescapable to me. I have a soundtrack constantly flowing but never ebbing in my ears. When I read a book, it is like a movie in my mind. When I read or hear of the parting of the sea, I can smell the salt and dry earth that the Israelites walked across on. I can hear the bustle of all of those thousands of people striving with their children, their husbands, wives to just make it across. I can hear the worry, even in the face of such a miracle, of “What are we going to do?”
Vivid. Livid. Sometimes those two go together for me. I can recall the hurtful things that have been done and said to me in such a detailed manner, that my anger rises to the surface, refreshed and justified. Don’t judge me. I am human. I get angry. Yes, God has cleansed me of my past, but he didn’t remove those memories. He is just teaching me how to deal with them, showing me how to turn to Him, only to Him. Who else could comfort me? This is the same God who comforted those that suffered at the hands of the Nazis. I have done so much research on this era, seen images no one should see. Sometimes those starved stick figures are so vivid in my mind. Who am I to complain?
Thank you, Gypsy Mama, for providing me with a challenge! To see the challenge, go here: