My need for direction
I don’t know about you but I need directions. I am not
saying I am going to follow them right from the start. I just need something to
refer to once everything appears screwed up; then I can go back and make the
appropriate adjustments. Hopefully!
I have never been one to follow directions; anyone that
knows me, knows this. I have always been one that just whipped it out and stood
back to see the results, be it a recipe, painting or just about anything else
that I did. Having to follow a strict
rigid order for things rubs me the wrong way. This is possibly why math is a
foreign language to me.
In my younger days when attending classes, I kept hearing
rumors of structure and rules. There is a process to creating something. I was
confused and frustrated. Don’t you just do it?
I blame this on my Grandmother who I cherished; I cherished
both in different ways. Grandma Stanfield told me that life is about the
journey and God will take care of me. If I listen to him, he would show me who I
am supposed to be. I figured that she must have known what she was talking
about cause she had all kinds of things going on. She was a willow tree. In
fact, her yard was full of willow trees. I doubt if this was on purpose but it was
a kind of oddity.
Willow trees have roots that spread far and wide. They are
also as deep as the tree is tall. Because of the root system, the tree stands
firm and has the ability to bend and be flexible. I have always loved this
tree.
Both my Grandmothers were greatly religious, my other
Grandmother, Grandma Johnson, lived a very stiff and structured life. At least that
was my perspective of things. Not appealing to me, although I am drawn to
structured people. Probable for my own survival, someone has to do it. I am
mediocre in that department. Free spirit. Grandmother
Johnson was a great artist with her pie making and needlework. She was very
much Scandinavian you know kept it all in and did not let anyone know what was
bothering her. Although, she did have the temper that I never saw but heard
rumors.
It is amazing how we can look at our family history and see
how and why we are who we are. It’s hard to say if it is genetics or nurturing.
Of course, I believe it is a mix.
Anyways, I forgot to listen. For years now, I have been out in
the willy-nilly world doing my own thing. When I WAS GROWING UP THERE WAS ONE
STUCTURED THING THAT I HAD TO DO AND THAT WAS GOING TO CHURCH AND SUNDAY
SCHOOL. FOLLOW THE GOLDEN RULES. I had years of training and loved every minute
of it. I always referred back when things are messed up. 
I have returned to my roots, I am attending a Lutheran
church. I have spent many years searching for the right religion, as my boys
will confirm. They say they are not religious but I know all those years
dragging them to different churches in the youth have made them the fine men
they are now. Although I had gave up for
quite a few years. I have decided that any church that expounds love of
humankind and self is all right with me. I just feel comfortable with this
church. 
I am not saying I have done terrible sins against humankind
or to the people I love. Although, I must say I am not sinless. I am just
saying I forgot to love and let love be. Let love be. Life is love. Let it be.
Let it be however it is and just except and trust. Be a willow tree. Do not
forget a willow tree has deep and shallow roots to help it bend. 
