Monday, June 7, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Growing Pains
There are some pictures, some moments, some memories that stop the tears from flowing, and help the heart to reconcile with the precious moments, that seem to be greater that than pain of loss. This photo reminds me of that reality. It is one that captures the essence of who you were and still are in my heart. It captures your resilient spirit; your overall make up, which was rich in giving, subtle and free. Your inner strength and overall disposition inspired me to look beyond all circumstances and simply live. As you did, so can I. I love you LaRessa. I miss you something serious. Sometimes I have to pretend that I am dreaming, She's still here, I say to myself: just to cope. I miss you thinking about me in spite of your circumstance. I miss the late night calls when you discerned there was something up with me, when you reached out of your pain to the need of your sister, me. The minute you'd ask, I'd burst in tears...God always send you to my rescue, as an angel with wide wings reaching directly to my heart. I am learning day-by-day to let the physical part of you go. And as I do, the pain lessens. Your inspiration lives on LaRessa. I remember you telling me once that if your life was to be a living testimony for one soul;if you were to live as an example; your life as a model for someone else to be touched than you were satisified. That someone LaRessa is me. And this pain will not be forever. For the love and inspiration will live on for an eternity. Until we meet again. I will fear not and know that, "Love is more than simply feelings: it is an attitude that reveals itself in action." LS
Sasha
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Sunday, My Favorite Day of the Week
Sunday is my favorite day of the week. Let me tell you why. First and foremost, I get to spend time with my second family, fellow shipping. Oh, how beautiful.
to be continued.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Ask and you shall receive, huh?
"Do not ask the Lord to guide your footsteps, if you are not willing to move your feet." ~taken from First Lady Maxine Clark's email.
Okay First Lady Clark! I hear that...and am willing to move, oh Lord!
Okay First Lady Clark! I hear that...and am willing to move, oh Lord!
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Happy 30th Birthday Bena Berry
Someone out of the two of us maturing!
I remember those late nights at Bridgewater State College, whispering in our quad: you, me, oh and our roommate Julianna because Samantha had to work early; eating at wee hours of the morning, and afterwards, listening to me lecture about the importance of brushing your teeth every night before bed.
We've shared some great times together at Bridgewater--too many to capture but enough to hold dear. What stands out to me is watching you grow from the time we meet in Shea Durgin, into a beautiful woman, who now brushes her teeth--sometimes, or at least acknowledges the importance of doing so.
I love you Bena. Happy, Happy Birthday, 3oth. Wow! And blessing for so many more, productive years.
In June, God willingly, I will be joining you.
With love,
Sasha Sawn :)
I remember those late nights at Bridgewater State College, whispering in our quad: you, me, oh and our roommate Julianna because Samantha had to work early; eating at wee hours of the morning, and afterwards, listening to me lecture about the importance of brushing your teeth every night before bed.
We've shared some great times together at Bridgewater--too many to capture but enough to hold dear. What stands out to me is watching you grow from the time we meet in Shea Durgin, into a beautiful woman, who now brushes her teeth--sometimes, or at least acknowledges the importance of doing so.
I love you Bena. Happy, Happy Birthday, 3oth. Wow! And blessing for so many more, productive years.
In June, God willingly, I will be joining you.
With love,
Sasha Sawn :)
Word of the Day
I want my life to be a reflection - much like John's.
~Sasha
Taken from www.beliefnet.com
John 17:20-26
“I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
“Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
~Sasha
Taken from www.beliefnet.com
John 17:20-26
“I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
“Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
Sunday, February 14, 2010
A different love story
Published today on DaySpring.com Heart to Heart with Holley
http://blog.dayspring.com/2010/02/the-rest-of-your-story-28.html#comment-captcha
My love story is that of a covenant between God and my great grandmother who, accordingly to my parents, loved me very much. Though she died when I was two years old, I have felt a constant hand over my life that I could not always physically see, but was presently holding me, until I could hold the pen and begin to write on my own.
Beginning in the eighties when I lived at 29 Mission Park Drive—a place that will always be home for me. It is where I vividly recall spending eight years of my life growing and developing. When I think back to the eighties, the stories my mother enlightened me on remain clear in my mind—like the stories she shared with me regarding my birth.
I was the new shade, an addition to the family. My sister was seven; my brother was five. My brother made it clear when he stood at the end of my mother’s hospital bed with his narrow eyes squinted, pausing first, and then asking in a curious tone:
“Are you sure we have the right baby, mom?”
I guess it made sense that a five year old would wonder if, perhaps, I was accidentally separated at birth—that I could be someone else’s baby, as I was the new shade born with straight, jet-black hair, totally different from everyone else. I was often told that I resembled my grandmother, who accordingly to my mother prayed over me every chance she received. She must have prayed a special prayer of protection and comfort.
I recall countless memories of my first experiences, like learning to ride a bike, and having my kneecaps ambushed by Chris Stokes with his Cannondale triathlon bicycle. In all of these memories, I do not remember my grandmother. However her presence has never left me, especially in the times I have needed comfort; I can attest I feel her spirit with me.
I know that my first experience learning to ride a bike took place in front of 29 Mission Park Drive. The sun was out, shining bright and I was confident on my pink-and white banana boat bicycle my dad surprised me with.
That same day, I remember climbing up into the tree next to my house to pick wild cherries, a hobby my mother disliked. “You are a little lady, not a little boy,” my mother said. I knew I was just a skinny energetic girl who loved to climb trees and never thought anything of it. While climbing up the Cedar tree near my house, I would scrape skin off my kneecaps. Yet, the bleeding did not deter me. Instead it motivated me to make it to the middle where the tree trunk curled—covered in bark, almost into a seat, perfect for my petite physique.
Those were the years; the year’s innocence was prevalent. Months after my tenth birthday, my life took a turbulent turn. One unexpected storm approached after another altering and shifting what was once stability. That year, my parents separated, shattering my entire world.
Subsequently, a few months later, my mother left us for thirty days to detoxify from intoxicating substances: in recovery she called it, a phrase too big for my ten year old heart to handle. I discovered later that my mother’s courage to step out on faith reshaped her life and changed ours for the better. That year, I enrolled in middle school – was accepted to the Mo Vaughn Youth Development Program and begin to prepare for high school.
In 1996, I entered high school with vigor. The idiom that time passes quickly when you are having fun was true for me. I began writing for Voice Magazine my senior year, while preparing for college with the help of my Advanced Placement writing teacher. Our class was both exceptional and inspirational. Ninety percent of us were accepted to college.
That summer before we all departed for school, a tragedy occurred.
It was the top story on the five o’ clock news; it made the front page of both the Boston Globe and Boston Herald. It was a great story journalistically speaking: three beautiful college girls shot on their first day of school, described by one of the detectives as the bloodiest, vicious crime scenes he had ever seen. Those two girls that were murdered execution-style were my dear friends.
For me it meant devastation. My heart was shattered yet in the midst of this horrible storm – but in God I found strength, comfort and protection. Enough to pick up my belongings and take one step at a time, forward to pursue my degree. That summer I left and moved to Bridgewater Massachusetts, to attend Bridgewater State College. Writing, a gift that bestowed upon me from the most high, has ignited zeal within and created a passageway for me to continue.
My mission in life has been to continue to write, to not give up on loving and to carry a pen and pad everywhere I go to capture every moment in spite of the tears. I consider writing and the gift of expression my second love, God my first. For it has been in great times as well as the not so wonderful, that I’ve found refuge, strength and an overwhelming amount of courage to take the necessary steps forward, with pen in hand--writing one line at a time. For me the gift of writing is my love story. It is what I love to do, it is what has shaped me and assisted me to overcome. I often pray for opportunities to continue my journey as a journalist knowing according to Matthew 7:8 “For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.”
Posted by: Sasha Link | February 14, 2010 at 04:03 PM
http://blog.dayspring.com/2010/02/the-rest-of-your-story-28.html#comment-captcha
My love story is that of a covenant between God and my great grandmother who, accordingly to my parents, loved me very much. Though she died when I was two years old, I have felt a constant hand over my life that I could not always physically see, but was presently holding me, until I could hold the pen and begin to write on my own.
Beginning in the eighties when I lived at 29 Mission Park Drive—a place that will always be home for me. It is where I vividly recall spending eight years of my life growing and developing. When I think back to the eighties, the stories my mother enlightened me on remain clear in my mind—like the stories she shared with me regarding my birth.
I was the new shade, an addition to the family. My sister was seven; my brother was five. My brother made it clear when he stood at the end of my mother’s hospital bed with his narrow eyes squinted, pausing first, and then asking in a curious tone:
“Are you sure we have the right baby, mom?”
I guess it made sense that a five year old would wonder if, perhaps, I was accidentally separated at birth—that I could be someone else’s baby, as I was the new shade born with straight, jet-black hair, totally different from everyone else. I was often told that I resembled my grandmother, who accordingly to my mother prayed over me every chance she received. She must have prayed a special prayer of protection and comfort.
I recall countless memories of my first experiences, like learning to ride a bike, and having my kneecaps ambushed by Chris Stokes with his Cannondale triathlon bicycle. In all of these memories, I do not remember my grandmother. However her presence has never left me, especially in the times I have needed comfort; I can attest I feel her spirit with me.
I know that my first experience learning to ride a bike took place in front of 29 Mission Park Drive. The sun was out, shining bright and I was confident on my pink-and white banana boat bicycle my dad surprised me with.
That same day, I remember climbing up into the tree next to my house to pick wild cherries, a hobby my mother disliked. “You are a little lady, not a little boy,” my mother said. I knew I was just a skinny energetic girl who loved to climb trees and never thought anything of it. While climbing up the Cedar tree near my house, I would scrape skin off my kneecaps. Yet, the bleeding did not deter me. Instead it motivated me to make it to the middle where the tree trunk curled—covered in bark, almost into a seat, perfect for my petite physique.
Those were the years; the year’s innocence was prevalent. Months after my tenth birthday, my life took a turbulent turn. One unexpected storm approached after another altering and shifting what was once stability. That year, my parents separated, shattering my entire world.
Subsequently, a few months later, my mother left us for thirty days to detoxify from intoxicating substances: in recovery she called it, a phrase too big for my ten year old heart to handle. I discovered later that my mother’s courage to step out on faith reshaped her life and changed ours for the better. That year, I enrolled in middle school – was accepted to the Mo Vaughn Youth Development Program and begin to prepare for high school.
In 1996, I entered high school with vigor. The idiom that time passes quickly when you are having fun was true for me. I began writing for Voice Magazine my senior year, while preparing for college with the help of my Advanced Placement writing teacher. Our class was both exceptional and inspirational. Ninety percent of us were accepted to college.
That summer before we all departed for school, a tragedy occurred.
It was the top story on the five o’ clock news; it made the front page of both the Boston Globe and Boston Herald. It was a great story journalistically speaking: three beautiful college girls shot on their first day of school, described by one of the detectives as the bloodiest, vicious crime scenes he had ever seen. Those two girls that were murdered execution-style were my dear friends.
For me it meant devastation. My heart was shattered yet in the midst of this horrible storm – but in God I found strength, comfort and protection. Enough to pick up my belongings and take one step at a time, forward to pursue my degree. That summer I left and moved to Bridgewater Massachusetts, to attend Bridgewater State College. Writing, a gift that bestowed upon me from the most high, has ignited zeal within and created a passageway for me to continue.
My mission in life has been to continue to write, to not give up on loving and to carry a pen and pad everywhere I go to capture every moment in spite of the tears. I consider writing and the gift of expression my second love, God my first. For it has been in great times as well as the not so wonderful, that I’ve found refuge, strength and an overwhelming amount of courage to take the necessary steps forward, with pen in hand--writing one line at a time. For me the gift of writing is my love story. It is what I love to do, it is what has shaped me and assisted me to overcome. I often pray for opportunities to continue my journey as a journalist knowing according to Matthew 7:8 “For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.”
Posted by: Sasha Link | February 14, 2010 at 04:03 PM
Friday, February 12, 2010
Massaging the Mind, Body and Soul
So many things racing through my mind. I have to stop and take a second to meditate on what power I have, what power I can exercise, what power I can use to transform the not so good into great.
I did that today.
After feeling faint -- I took the energy I was feeling and like a wise man once told me, turned it into something even more powerful, beginning with a phone call to Jodi at Body Basics Massages. The rest is history...because I sit here this evening liberating and thankful for her hands, talent and the ambiance I walked into, especially after having such a rough day. All in the name of $35.00. So many things to be grateful for, thoughts of appreciation racing through my mind.
I did that today.
After feeling faint -- I took the energy I was feeling and like a wise man once told me, turned it into something even more powerful, beginning with a phone call to Jodi at Body Basics Massages. The rest is history...because I sit here this evening liberating and thankful for her hands, talent and the ambiance I walked into, especially after having such a rough day. All in the name of $35.00. So many things to be grateful for, thoughts of appreciation racing through my mind.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Happy Birthday Beautiful, LaRessa
Missing you so very much, but inspired even more.
I am at Bridgewater State College in preparation mode, filling out the online application for Columbia University. The final click and send has to be done Tuesday by 12:00 a.m. I have high hopes to do it tomorrow evening and relax on Tuesday, as I took it off. I am in great spirits. Thinking great thoughts; illuminating all the unnecessary ones. My energy has been shifted and I stand in a realm of appreciation. A huge amount of my inspiration comes from your walk, lovely. Those steps you took in grace. One foot before the next to Chemo therapy, not complaining. At least not loud enough for anyone to hear, always giving thanks for what you had and demonstrating your love through the pain. I am forever grateful, my inspiration.
Your dear friend and third sister,
Sasha
I am at Bridgewater State College in preparation mode, filling out the online application for Columbia University. The final click and send has to be done Tuesday by 12:00 a.m. I have high hopes to do it tomorrow evening and relax on Tuesday, as I took it off. I am in great spirits. Thinking great thoughts; illuminating all the unnecessary ones. My energy has been shifted and I stand in a realm of appreciation. A huge amount of my inspiration comes from your walk, lovely. Those steps you took in grace. One foot before the next to Chemo therapy, not complaining. At least not loud enough for anyone to hear, always giving thanks for what you had and demonstrating your love through the pain. I am forever grateful, my inspiration.
Your dear friend and third sister,
Sasha
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
A writer Just Is
I love the following response that a English Professor shared with a woman who was grappling with the idea of whether as a blogger - the line of work she does writing, if it was suffice to call herself a writer.
His response is worth sharing with the world:
"I think if you write–then you are a writer. Period. I told my students (English class) that they are all writers. Whether for money or not, recognition or not. Some of us are more financially successful than others–but that does not define our success. Believe that you are a writer. Write. And the rest will happen. Right? Write? Right????"
LaskiGal
February 11th, 2008 at 2:06 pm
His response is worth sharing with the world:
"I think if you write–then you are a writer. Period. I told my students (English class) that they are all writers. Whether for money or not, recognition or not. Some of us are more financially successful than others–but that does not define our success. Believe that you are a writer. Write. And the rest will happen. Right? Write? Right????"
LaskiGal
February 11th, 2008 at 2:06 pm
Monday, October 19, 2009
My lady --- Missing you
LaRessa Jean Seastrunk
December 13, 1978 to October 10, 2009
LaRessa Jean Seastrunk, 30, of Locust Street, Providence, succumbed to breast cancer Saturday, October 10 th , at Hospice Care of RI.
Born in Providence, the daughter of LaJune (Belcher) Banjo-Gadson of Lancaster, CA and Clinton Seastrunk Sr. and Maria Annette (Green) Seastrunk of Providence .
LaRessa received her Bachelor's of Science in Social Work from Tennessee State University. Upon graduation she worked as a program supervisor at The Work Family Connection Inc., Oldwick, NJ. Then she took positions as a Family Service Specialist and Litigation Specialist at The Division of Youth & Family Services, Flemington, NJ.
After relocating to Providence, LaRessa worked as a social work coordinator at the Jane Brown Inpatient Psychiatry Unit of Rhode Island Hospital. And lastly she worked as a social worker for the American Cancer Society, Boston, MA.
Besides her parents, she is survived by son, Jon Alston Jr. of Potomac, MD, brothers, Clinton Seastrunk Jr. and LaMarr Trisvan, both of Providence, and sisters, LaShon Beamon of Potomac, MD and LaChell Trisvan of Cranford, NJ.
Funeral 11am Saturday at Holy Cross Church Of God In Church United , 1014 Broad Street, Providence. Burial will be in Swan Point Cemetery, Providence. Viewing 7-9pm Friday in Bright Funeral Home, 290 Public Street, Providence. In lieu of flowers send donations to Jon Alston Jr. Bank of America Acct: 226002504647.
Click To View Condolence Messages
Bright Funeral Home
290 Public Street
Providence, RI 02905
401-331-9411
Fax 401-331-6397
"For Those Who Care"
Soul --- Less
Though it feel as if a part of my soul has been resurrected, I have no choice but to continue believing that the pain will lessen in time. A part of my soul feels empty; silence enters in where words lived -- words of engorgement words of hope, words of support that strengthened me. Void has crept where there was fullness of life, detracting from what once was. When I find rest I can say where I am weak, He is strong and it is less death to the soul and more strength. In time.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Strengthened Spiritually
"LaRessa would want you to take care of yourself. She would also want everyone to be at peace knowing that she is in a better place. A place where there is no more tears, no more pain, and no more sorrow. She left us LJ to love and cherish in her memory. We must keep up our strength for this darling little boy. LaRessa fought the good fight of faith and ran the race with endurance. She is now resting in the bosom of her Savior and Lord Jesus Christ."
Cheryl Albright
When I need it most, it comes from the depths of many souls. Souls who know best. Souls who are at places where they not only empathize but understand because they too are facing a severe loss. With every loss, however, comes gain. I can truly say I have gained such a great deal of strength from my lovely friend, LaRessa. I looked her in her eyes so many times and told her within the last few weeks that I loved her so much; that she has no idea how much she has inspired me; that she is special. I feel strengthened because I know what I had before this and what I have now. I have a friend in heaven, one whose since of love, support and spiritual dominion over my life has increased the minute she ascended to the higher place in heaven. She has risen to not just my friend, or playing the role of an older sister, but to now my angel with wings that fly higher than any circumstance I am facing; that encourages me out of the pain she was in with total victory in the spiritual realm of which I need and gleam toward everyday.
Cheryl Albright
When I need it most, it comes from the depths of many souls. Souls who know best. Souls who are at places where they not only empathize but understand because they too are facing a severe loss. With every loss, however, comes gain. I can truly say I have gained such a great deal of strength from my lovely friend, LaRessa. I looked her in her eyes so many times and told her within the last few weeks that I loved her so much; that she has no idea how much she has inspired me; that she is special. I feel strengthened because I know what I had before this and what I have now. I have a friend in heaven, one whose since of love, support and spiritual dominion over my life has increased the minute she ascended to the higher place in heaven. She has risen to not just my friend, or playing the role of an older sister, but to now my angel with wings that fly higher than any circumstance I am facing; that encourages me out of the pain she was in with total victory in the spiritual realm of which I need and gleam toward everyday.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Soul Inspired
Inspiration that Moves my Soul
One step at a time. As my favorite uncle said to me the other day, "Niece, don't look at the whole picture, take small steps and try not to stress." Much younger than my wise uncle but as in tuned, Mr. Fernandez, my caring neighbor shared with me a simple analogy, "when you make an apple pie, what do you do? You mix all the ingredients, right? And when its done you eat one slice at a time." Seconds after the revelation struck...i realized that looking at the entire circumstance at one glace is like eating an entire pie in one sitting. It is not digestible -- nor feasible, nor healthy, nor productive. It is a fact that a baby takes one step at a time, while learning to walk; animals know when to hunt and gather innately and when to rest. So, why is it us humans often take too many steps forward into what can not be managed or solved instantaneously. That answer to that is unknown but what I am learning more and more is to lean not on my own understanding, but to trust in the spirit that has been given unto me. The spirit of creativity: of strength: the spirit of movement. I know that it is necessary to breath in sometimes and like my cousin said, clock in and clock out, do what I can in the hours that I can (much like any job) and then sign out. I reflect from the Randolph Public Library after a really peace filled day, working simultaneously on my third job. I will not stop, Neil Lee. I will keep going and writing while taking this journey, thanking each of you for your living inspiration that moves my very soul.
With love,
Sash
One step at a time. As my favorite uncle said to me the other day, "Niece, don't look at the whole picture, take small steps and try not to stress." Much younger than my wise uncle but as in tuned, Mr. Fernandez, my caring neighbor shared with me a simple analogy, "when you make an apple pie, what do you do? You mix all the ingredients, right? And when its done you eat one slice at a time." Seconds after the revelation struck...i realized that looking at the entire circumstance at one glace is like eating an entire pie in one sitting. It is not digestible -- nor feasible, nor healthy, nor productive. It is a fact that a baby takes one step at a time, while learning to walk; animals know when to hunt and gather innately and when to rest. So, why is it us humans often take too many steps forward into what can not be managed or solved instantaneously. That answer to that is unknown but what I am learning more and more is to lean not on my own understanding, but to trust in the spirit that has been given unto me. The spirit of creativity: of strength: the spirit of movement. I know that it is necessary to breath in sometimes and like my cousin said, clock in and clock out, do what I can in the hours that I can (much like any job) and then sign out. I reflect from the Randolph Public Library after a really peace filled day, working simultaneously on my third job. I will not stop, Neil Lee. I will keep going and writing while taking this journey, thanking each of you for your living inspiration that moves my very soul.
With love,
Sash
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Inspiration that Moves my Soul
One step at a time. As my favorite uncle said to me the other day, "Niece, don't look at the whole picture, take small steps and try not to stress." Much younger than my wise uncle but as in tuned, Mr. Fernandez, my caring shared with me a simple analogy, "when you make an apple pie, what do you do? You mix all the ingredients, right? And when its done you eat one slice at a time." Seconds after the revelation struck...looking at entire the circumstance at one glace is like eating an entire pie in one sitting. It is not digestible -- nor feasible, nor healthy, nor productive. It is a fact that baby takes one step at a time, while learning to walk; animals know when to hunt and gather innately and when to rest. So, why is it us humans often take too many steps forward into what can not be managed or solved instantaneously. That answer to that is unknown but what I am learning more and more is to lean not on my own understanding, but to trust in the spirit that has been given unto me. The spirit of creativity: of strength: the spirit of movement. I know that it is necessary to breath in sometimes and like my cousin said, clock in and clock out, do what I can in the hours that I can (much like any job) and then sign out. I reflect from the Randolph Public Library after a really peace filled day, working simultaneously on my third job. I will not stop, Neil Lee. I will keep going and writing while taking this, thanking each of you for your living inspiration that moves my very soul.
With love,
Sash
With love,
Sash
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Facing the Challenge
This year, this walk has not been easy. But I will tell you one thing I have learned a great deal that has turned out to be of more significance than what has appeared as the problem. It has been a significant amount of time since I blogged. I am walking toward so much victory that the issues I have been facing have undoubtedly clouded my vision. Nonetheless, I am seeing a bit more clearly now. I see the light as they say, at the end of the tunnel and most importantly I see myself getting through this mess, moving on to a brighter future. I read a quote last night while cleaning through my piles of wrinkled "important papers" a mess i like to call it, organizing so that I can continue to be productive. The quote stated something along the lines that without the problem, you would have no resolution. I will get the direct quote and share at a later date, but my mentioning it has much to do with the direction life sometimes takes us.
While we imagine the chaos as strain and stress that sometimes is so overwhelming fostering feelings of our wanting to simply remove our attention from the matter, to throw in the towel, to stop in our tracks and quit -- (as if that is the holistic solution to making the problem go away) when in actuality it is as my father often refers to the journey in life not the destination or the place you are currently in, or have unwillingly landed.
Facing the challenge is what is what matters: One step at a time. It builds character and strength, it shapes us and creates in most cases innovative individuals who think different and want more and understand that challenges come to mold us.
Be blessed,
Sasha
While we imagine the chaos as strain and stress that sometimes is so overwhelming fostering feelings of our wanting to simply remove our attention from the matter, to throw in the towel, to stop in our tracks and quit -- (as if that is the holistic solution to making the problem go away) when in actuality it is as my father often refers to the journey in life not the destination or the place you are currently in, or have unwillingly landed.
Facing the challenge is what is what matters: One step at a time. It builds character and strength, it shapes us and creates in most cases innovative individuals who think different and want more and understand that challenges come to mold us.
Be blessed,
Sasha
Friday, March 13, 2009
He will do what he said he will do...
Today’s Scripture
“Fear not [there is nothing to fear], for I am with you; do not look around you in terror and be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen and harden you to difficulties, yes, I will help you; yes, I will hold you up and retain you with My [victorious] right hand of rightness and justice” (Isaiah 41:10, AMP).
“Fear not [there is nothing to fear], for I am with you; do not look around you in terror and be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen and harden you to difficulties, yes, I will help you; yes, I will hold you up and retain you with My [victorious] right hand of rightness and justice” (Isaiah 41:10, AMP).
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