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Confessions of a Hamster-Wheel Junkie

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What are you working for?

By Michele Routh-Combs

J0427605 When business gets challenging and things feel out of control – whether through a lack of business or an overflow – it’s easy to lose sight of what you’re pursuing. After all, what good is a goal without a reward?  And, what good is the endless pursuit of grand goals without little triumphs and celebrations along the way?  It’s like running in an endless loop like a hamster, instead of enjoying the journey.

I’m one of those people, I’m sorry to say.  Setting lofty goals well beyond my immediate reach, which often stretch over years without clear markers to show my progress.  Unfortunately, with that type of goal setting it’s easy to get discouraged and lose heart – or to procrastinate, thinking I can sprint at the end and achieve the goal, even if it adds extra stress.  But what it creates is this hamster-wheel feeling – constantly running with no end in sight, and no rest.

Are you the same way?  Are you running on that wheel wondering what you’re really working towards?  If so, it’s time for a change.  That kind of living only leads to burn out, frustration, anxiety, constant disappointment, hopelessness and a lot of sleepless nights—not to mention, unachieved goals.

How do you change it?  Oh, I’m so glad you asked.  First let’s break it down into steps:

1.       Recognize areas where you’re on that hamster-wheel and be ready for change

2.       Create milestones and rewards – and really celebrate them!

3.       Reassess your progress regularly to allow for course corrections if needed

Now let’s look at the different types of goals. 

Measureable Goals:

Measureable goals are the easiest to break down into bite sized pieces.  In other words, if your goal is to triple your business in the next 12 months, you can simply break it down into quarterly goals, then into monthly goals, then into weekly goals.  But achievement and satisfaction doesn’t come in the goal itself, it’s in the rewards.  You can add fun rewards for each little achievement along the way with a big reward at the end.  That way, you are celebrating your wins, recognizing your progress and dangling the carrot for the next achievement level too.  To really spark you though, figure out why you want to reach that goal, the core reason ( what will it give you) and focus on that as you work on the goal so you never lose your focus.

One year, Mike and I set a goal to triple our business.  We set a chart up on the wall to measure our progress – a daily reminder of what we were striving to achieve.  At first it was overwhelming and I wondered how we’d make it, but soon as the triumphs started rolling in, it became realistic, and even seemed like it might be too low.  Imagine that! And, the best part is that the journey made it fun. 

It seemed like we were celebrating something every week.  With each milestone (or any major forward step), we would have a little party.  It was so simple but there was something about how we carefully prepared the celebration.  We’d pull out our best party trays and lay out the crackers and cheese as though it were going to be in a “best presentation” competition on television.  Then, using our finest crystal flutes, we poured wine or champagne for everyone.  Then, we would all lift our glasses up and begin the party with a toast – celebrating the achievement of yet another milestone.  It’s funny how much I treasured those times, and looking back I remember those moments more than the day we actually met our big overall goal and went on our two week vacation to the Bahamas. 

Needless to say, I gained 20 pounds that year…so I don’t suggest food as the only reward.  Rewards and celebrations can be as simple as a walk in the moonlight, or getting a photo framed, or playing a game together or sitting on the porch with a glass of lemonade when you should really be answering emails.  Rewards are anything unusual that break the norm and spice things up – they are something you lookJ0427606  forward to.  A celebration of the moment. 

Goals that Can’t be Measured:

If your goal is not concrete and measurable you have to get more creative in your rewards.  Ask yourself how you will know if you are on the path to get that thing you want.  And, when something happens in a forward direction, celebrate it.  We did that with our clientele.  We didn’t want to work weekends anymore, so we turned clients down or referred them if they insisted on meeting us on the weekends.  It was difficult at first (to turn away the business) but ultimately we ended up with incredibly loyal clients who respected us and our time — and we got our life back.  To celebrate, well, honestly, we celebrated the crabby people who were offended that we wouldn’t give in because we knew with each one it was easier to say no, and it brought us closer to working with our perfect clientele. 

Surprisingly, it only took about 6 months to convert our client’s expectation and cross that goal off our list.  All we needed to do was to set that boundary.  Who would have known it was so simple?  The funny thing is that it quickly weeded out the problem clients, and I’m sure we saved our stress meter a couple points by choosing to refer those clients instead of caving to their unreasonable demands.

Private (Personal Development) Goals:

The last type of goal is private.  Something you keep to yourself and track in your journal.  For private goals, like getting closer to your spouse and your kids or getting your angry outbursts under control, you can apply the same principle.  However instead of outward celebrations, take a mental picture in those perfect moments when you made the right choice and hugged your child a little longer than normal or quelled your anger, and thank yourself.   

Acknowledge, in that moment, the progress you’ve just made toward your goal.  Each one of those moments is like a single drop of water into a bucket.  It doesn’t look like much at first, but when you look at it after some time, you’ll see the bucket filling.  And when it overflows?  That just means more goodness spilling into the lives of all those around you.  Private goals are special.  In fact, I would say that “giving” goals, where you are doing something for the benefit of others, are rewarded in greater ways than we know.  But, these are the most rewarding of all.

Do yourself a favor and get off the hamster wheel.  Step right off, right now.  Start by writing your goals down or by reviewing what you’ve got and revising it.  Add in rewards.  Add in celebrations.  Add in people you want to meet and places you want to go and even restaurants you want to go to.  Those rewards bring greater satisfaction and joy than any number on a wall or any amount of public acknowledgement.  Think about it – about what’s meant the most in your life (this may not count if you won the gold medal in the Olympics though) — and I’m willing to bet you look more fondly on the journey than the accomplishment.

You only have today.  Yesterday is already gone and you can’t change it.  You can’t count on tomorrow because it’s beyond your control.  You just have this moment.  Celebrate your achievements every day and you’ll see that your frustrations melt away, your hope is renewed and your creativity and passion return.  Get off that hamster-wheel and insist on a real life! 

Written by mcombs

August 6, 2008 at 9:55 pm

Posted in Daily Life

Compelled to Help

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Something big is happening these last few weeks.  Suddenly we are hearing from people who are all feeling “compelled to help” us further our objectives.  It’s been amazing to see.

We have an author who’s agreed to speak with us and hopefully it will be mutually beneficial.  He seems like someone who needs some deeper insight and I know Mike can help with that.  A good man. 

I was talking to a gentleman I admire and respect recently and explained briefly what we were doing.  His first reaction felt like it came from a place of judgement.  He simply wanted to know what media we had appears on or had been asked to.  That was a little odd.  He ended up just kind of blowing me off.  Then the next day he wrote me to say that he’d been talking to a gentleman he respects and who had come to him for advice on spiritual matters in the past.  As they got to talking the gentleman mentioned Mike’s book and said that it was one of the most deeply spiritual books he’d ever read and recommended it highly.  How’s that for God’s intervention?  Anyway, he now wants to talk to us further and has been giving us a lot of encouragement.

We had another benefactor step up to help on Monday offering to send Mike to conference where he could establish some key connections to help get the message out.  It’s a small conference…and even Jack Canfield is an instructor.  We’re both very humbled.  God seems to be opening all sorts of doors.

Last night we were talking to our kids (17 & 21) about the civil rights movement and other defining moments in both American and World history.  What seems clear is that kids today have never known a time when you didn’t have to question the motives of people in authority.

When Mike and I were growing up no one questioned the judgement of the President of the United States.  He was the the supreme authority for our country and it was un-American to speak against his judgement.  Then came Johnson and then Nixon who both deceived the American people.  All around us there was civil unrest as Vietnam roared on, but again, people were questioning the decisions.  Soon the media began to be exposed for biased journalism – politically or advertising dollar motivated.  Next we began to see companies caving in, having lied and deceived the public, and the leaders getting rich even in bankruptcy.  At the same time our clergy were being exposed for their manipulation of children and other vulnerable people.

Let’s face it, our kids have no idea who to trust.  But, there was an interesting dynamic in our conversation last night.  As much as they want to run away and live in a wilderness where no one can take advantage of them or deceive them — someplace inherently real — they also have hope that there is coming a return to truth, spirituality and simplicity.  That’s what they want.  They cited the return of jazz and folk music as a sign of that because it’s not manipulated.  It’s very raw music.  That’s the only way it works.  They also noted that the arts are a place of solace…of honesty.

Our young people are willing to give up their money ambitions in favor of a richness in life that money cannot buy.  They want to reach out and help others, and feel compelled to help turn things around.  They are ready to stand up for what they believe and what they want…and pitch in to help make it happen. 

What an incredible time in our history this is.  We are finally turning back to each other.  Valuing our “brothers” and considering their needs again.  Doing all we can to do what’s right, instead of looking first at the financial gain it might bring.

I encourage you to reach out to someone today and offer to help them in some small way.  There is so much good that comes from putting the needs of others before your own — with no expectation of gain.  We need this revival in our country.  We are all interdependent.  That’s the way we’re made, so please, put your needs aside for just a moment and reach out and help someone else.  Even just to genuinely ask how they are doing.  Then keep that moment to yourself – tell no one – and see how you feel.  It’s a beautiful secret to hold in your heart, and helps feed this “pay it forward” revival.    

Written by retechguru

April 23, 2008 at 8:36 pm

Michele’s Story

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I can’t run anymore.  I see that now.  I’ve been embarassed to share one of the most miraculous stories I’ve ever come across for fear of what my family and friends and colleagues think of me.  Five years have passed now, and today I woke up with the strongest passion I’ve ever felt: that I was meant to tell this story.  In fact, that I am meant to spread the word.  Sadly, that’s what I was told 5 years ago but I had too much pride to accept it. 

dcp_4964.jpgSo why now?  Well, this morning I couldn’t sleep, I woke up in a sweat, which went on for more than an hour.  That was unusual (although the paranoid side of me says that menopause is teasing me) so I decided to get up and read for a bit.  I picked up a book I’ve been avoiding.  Sure I bought it because it sounded fascinating, but it’s about death and I just haven’t been ready to read it.  You can probably relate.

Anyway, after reading the preface, introduction and then the first chapter I was completely reduced to a heaving, sobbing mess.  In the first chapter of this book called “Into the Light” but Dr. John Lerma it speaks about a little boy of 9 years old who is admitted to a hospice facility.  He is blind, yet can see – people, their clothes, their movement.  He saw spiritually.  At that moment I realized that I have been running away from my purpose.  I’ve known about a similar miracle and that I am meant to share the story but I just couldn’t.  Yet I know it will help SO many people.

In 2003 my best friend suffered a heart attack.  It was horrible.  He had been suffering with arrythmia and a faulty heart valve since 1993 and it had finally taken it’s toll.  His heart was too weak to sustain itself anymore.  As he laid on the bed he said his goodbyes to each of his kids and his wife.  His heart pumping so weakly it was hard to make out and his breaths shallow and slow.  We all knew it was the end.  (I had spent a couple years working at a hospice so I was very familiar with what death looked like, and this was it.)

I knealt by his side holding his hand, praying for God’s mercy.  Praying for a healing right up to the end.  Praying that love would prevail (something I felt my heart crying out, so I said out loud.)  I could hear his heart slowing down with each beat: pum…………………………………………… pum……………………………… …………………………pum, and his breath barely detectable.  Then it stopped.  Several very lonely moments passed as I realized he was gone.  My friend had gone to where there is no more pain, no more suffering — a place of peace, at last.

Then suddenly, from no where, he took a deep breath and his heart started up again.  I had nothing to do with it.  There was no intervention on my part.  More importantly, he sat up and said he was hungry.  It was miracle!!!  He was dead and it was impossible that he was now alert and aware.  As slow and shallow as his breaths were for a period of hours (as in eight hours), the lack of oxygen should have seriously impaired him.  Yet here he was breathing and sitting up.  It was amazing!

I asked him what happened and he described that God had come and he heard him say, “it’s time”.  He explained that there was an angel there as well in full body armor, tall, blonde and glowing.  He explained that the room we were in glowed, more specifically, that every living thing glowed brightly and it was beautiful — and all the pain was gone.  Even he was glowing but that the only place that didn’t glow was where my hand held his.  I was his link to the living (the physical).  And, that the words “let love prevail” touched God’s heart and he agreed to let him stay.

He walked a very thin line between life and death over the next several days.  After that initial shock of rejoining his body where he sat up, his heart went back to slow, weak beats and he couldn’t take deep breaths.  But they were regular, which was enough to keep him alive.  We were on borrowed time and we all knew it.  Would it buy us hours or days or years?  We didn’t know, so we kept a constant vigil at his bedside.  Meanwhile, he was in an incredible amount of pain.

Three days (40 hours) from the time of his first death, it happened again.  I was there by his side again but didn’t notice that he was passing through the veil again.  I had fallen asleep holding his hand — my best friend since I was 13.  He had been listening to music through his headphones (something he did to stay attached to his body, to stay connected, as he explained to me.)

Once again, he was allowed to come back.  This time however, it was his choice.  He explained that he crossed over and was escorted to heaven by the angels.  It was beautiful.  (Honestly, I don’t know if the desciption I will offer here is what he saw exactly because as he was describing it I was imagining it in my mind so I may have skewed it slightly.)  He described that he saw family members, some he knew and some he didn’t (but later confirmed through old family photos.)  They were all excited to see him as though they had been with him through it all.  And he said that this place was pure love, everywhere around him he was surrounded by pure, unconditional and deep penetrating love.  He said it was like nothing we’ve ever known or can compare it to on earth.  He also described that all around him was incredible music – a beautiful harmony of Hallelujah’s — which permeated the air because it eminated from all living things.  The music was like air is to us.  Then God came to his side, and slightly behind, not meeting his gaze and Mike understood that if he did look at the face of God he could not return to his body, so he was careful not to.  God led him down a path and he saw even more people and they were amazingly familiar to him, and he longed to sit and know them better, although he knew all about them the instant their eyes met.  He said he knew one or two of them to be saints.  They all longed for Mike to stay, anxious to sit and visit with him too.  But, then Mike was given a choice: stay and be free of pain and life’s difficulties or go back. 

Mike said he had so many things he regretted not having done.  So many things he wanted to accomplish, that the obvious choice was to come back and finish those things so he can rest.  At that instant he had made his choice and was now being coached by an angel on what it will be like to feel pain again, to be hungry, to smell things, to feel bodily sensations.  He had to be taught how to live in his flesh again!  Lastly, Mike shared that God had allowed him to make the choice, but if he came back there was a condition: that he is God’s, and would be God’s vessel in whatever God called him to do.

He lived! But again, he sayed close to the line/or veil for months after that, it was touch and go.  Every day wondering if he would even wake up or survive the day.  In some ways it was very difficult for him to reconnect to his body and he often described a feeling of being detached.  I always imagined it to be something like a color photo in a newspaper where the plates didn’t quite line up so you see a weird glow effect, but you know that the two images belong together. 

Keep in mind that the doctors said he would never be well.  They said his heart would continue to grow weaker until he could not be revived.  There was no hope from their standpoint.  His heart was beating at about 40% of capacity and he’d sustained memory loss through prolonged oxygen deprivation.  His long term memory was (and still is) very fragmented and his short term memory was very short.  He couldn’t remember where he put things a moment ago or his own family in photos.  Everything was new to him, and occasionally he’d have a reconnection with a memory and suddenly the gap was filled.  He worked on puzzles and memory games to try and reconnect those pathways in his brain.  We also experimented with different foods and cleansing treatments to increase the oxygen in his blood such as spinach at every meal, fish, clams and teas.  We would prepare things with tons of ginger to help dull the pain and spicy cayenne pepper to help spur his heart.  Finally we learned about the application of oxygen and experimental treatments that showed promise – where the oxygen will bring dead parts of a heart back to life.

Anyway, everyday was an experiment.  We tried new things and tested the results.  If that didn’t work, we’d try a different combination.  And everyday we looked for open doors – knowing that we were being led to the knowledge through divine sources.  Surely if God sent him back to do his work, he would have to get well enough to do it.

Mike was like a child again.  He appreciated every moment, even though he was in pain, and he never complained.  Colors were more alive to him, smells, words, places and things.  He was absorbing all of it as though an alien from another planet.  I remember him crying when he received some roses.  He was so excited for their color, scent and texture.  As he steadily got a little better we were able to go outside and he picked up a pile of leaves and took a deep breath to soak in the scent then held it up to my face, and honestly, I just didn’t get that same feeling as he did.  I watched him with awe — so this is what it’s like to see things as a child does. 

Nine months passed and he still spent 80% of his day in bed.  He just didn’t have the strength to get up and even then we often had to help him get from one room to the next.  We even had people come to prepare and serve him meals because he couldn’t stand up that long.  But, at exactly the ninth month he woke up one day and said ”I know how to paint”.  Apparently that was God’s first gift.  He had taught him how to paint while he was sleeping.

We take these things seriously, not just out of obedience to God (since he agreed to be God’s vessel) but also because anything that gives Mike a spark of hope, is a driving force for his recovery.  That said, I immediately ran out and bought him a paint set with an easel, oil paint, canvas and brushes.  He went right to work and has painted more than 100 paintings since then.  Each one is inspired by God.  Wait, no, it goes beyond that.  Mike is shown the image he’s supposed to paint and instructed on how to complete it, including brush strokes, color mixtures and other techniques.  God has a purpose for every painting!  He is trying to reach people — trying to inspire change whether it be peace, or love or joy or abundance.  Often there are hidden pictures or messages in the painting (not words), but mostly angels or faces or specific shapes.  On others he is instructed as he paints so that he gets it just right; “add another very short brush stroke here” or “add this color to this area”.   The paintings are very different, each and every one, some are scenery’s and others are abstract, but yet each one was intentional, not an experiment.  It’s funny because the ones that I don’t care for are the ones that interest others the most.  So, who am I to judge?  Most importantly, with each painting Mike’s heart gets stronger! 

God’s plan for the paintings is to get them out to the people they are intended for — he’s adamant about that.  Yet, here they sit (me too concerned with acceptance to tell others about it.  I’m ashamed.)

Since Mike died he’s also heard music playing as loud as can be in his mind.  In fact, I’m convinced that’s part of why he hears ringing in his ears.  He had musical talent before he got sick, although he’s a an independent artist so his promotion of the CD’s has been primarily through the web.  The pre-NDE (near death experience) music is absolutely beautiful.  It’s piano based with other instruments to complete the experience – fully instrumental.  But since the NDE he says the music is even more incredible and just needs to be expressed.  It’s funny because his core talent (though not his main source of income) before he got sick was music, but yet God has him working on the art, and now books, first.  I’m very curious to see when that will change.  Soon I hope.  Soon.  I’m sure there is a plan.

Meanwhile, we discovered a new talent that really has taken him some time to accept, more out of fear of what others would say.  Since he died he can still see spiritually: souls, angels, dark ones, plants, bugs, rocks — anything with an energy.  More than that, he can look into someone’s eyes and know everything about them.  Not their thoughts, but the things that have shaped their life — and the things that hold them back.  He can even see their purpose.  Additionally, he has a deep wisdom so he can provide easy and powerful steps to get back to who they are at their core.  He helps them live from their heart.  It’s absolutely amazing.

We first learned about this when he went into a grocery store and was absolutely overwhelmed by the people.  As he passed each person, he would get a full “download” of their entire life.  Can you imagine walking through a room and getting all that data all at once with no time to process it?  It was difficult to watch because he might see someone who was suicidal or someone who is desperately loney, or someone who is being abused but had no way to help them.  We had to leave the store quickly because it drained the energy right out of him, which his heart didn’t have to spare in the first place.  It put him in jeopardy and it took days to recover from it.  He’d have to lay flat on his back in terrible pain, his heart surrounded by fluid usually.  It was terrible to watch.  But, it continued, and actually increased in intesity so he had to learn how to control it.  He started working on summarizing each ”download” into one word so he could cope and move on.  God intervened and really helped him with that, sending angels to help him as needed too.  It took almost two years to solidly get under control.  Now he can simply “unzip” that file if he needs to, by consciously accessing that file, mostly through eye contact.  (Yes, pictures work, but it’s that moment in time.) 

Graveyards were the other difficult place because the souls know he can see them.  As I’ve talked to him about this, I’ve come to understand that there are some souls that have just not crossed over.  They are stuck here and roam about.  We think it’s tied to peace — they just cannot rest because of something that’s unresolved for them.  It’s fascinating.  They don’t normally come to him where he is, he normally sees them as he’s passes or visits various places.  In the graveyards he really had to learn how to control it because it was as though those people came running over to him asking for his help or asking where their loved ones were.  They were confused and lost, but peaceful at the same time.  He could not only see and hear them, but he can respond too (without spoken words, if needed.)

A few years ago, there was a woman I met whose husband had just passed and she was having a hard time coping.  So, I grabbed Mike and we all sat down to talk about his near death experience.  Then I whispered that Mike sees the dead too.  She was excited, but the general rule is that they must ask, rather than Mike volunteering (indicating that they are open to the knowledge) so I prompted her.  She finally asked him, “was he in pain when he died” and Mike said “no, it was very quick, he felt a little dizzy and confused, and then it was over.”  She started to cry.  She felt guilty for not being there when he died of a sudden brain anuerism when she was out of town.  The guilt was released.  Not only that but it so happened that he was standing there with her (his soul) and that’s how Mike knew that answer.  Her husband had a message for her and it melted her right there – a message of love and reassurance.  She was so touched she jumped up and ran over to grab a memory book that she carried with her and it had her husband’s photo in it.  There was a large group of people in the photo and Mike pointed right to the man he saw.  It was him..  That was the confirmation.  I don’t know if that’s man’s sould was able to have the rest to pass on at the moment or not, but what touched me is that they were able to say goodbye and share another moment together because Mike could relay what the man was saying to his widow.   It was beautiful.

We lived in Denver for many years and once we started learning about the oxygen, we were determined to get him to a lower altitude.  So we found a little house in Kansas for him and he spent two weeks a month there to help in the recovery process.  That was the final straw for his wife I think.  She just couldn’t cope any more so she served divorce papers and married someone else a couple months after the divorce was final.  That sure wasn’t good for his heart.

What became abundantly clear was that I was more committed to him than she was, even though we’d both known him the same amount of time.  So, a year after their divorce, we got married.  A month later we moved to Texas with two of his kids and my son.  Since that time he has grown much stronger and in his first year down here he completed a book.  It’s called “Ten Days with an Angel” by Michael Combs.  It’s about a man who doesn’t really believe in God much, but is approached by a man claiming to be an angel.  During the next 10 days the angel teaches him about the purpose and daily life of angels, but at the same time, teaching the man how to live with purpose, like angels do.  He teaches him how to follow his heart and how to find his purpose and live it.  All of it is done through things that angels do on a daily basis like protecting people from accidents or making sure someone is comforted, etc. 

The cool thing is that even though it’s fiction, he had a lot of spiritual help from God and the angels on it.  How can you write about God’s perspective without some extra help?  It’s a great book, full of spiritual wisdom and insight and inspiration without a religious bent.

Today he is finishing up a second novel and will soon start on a non-fiction book on how to live a more peaceful life.  Again with amazing insights.

I am so proud of him.  Proud to be his wife.  I used to wonder what I did to deserve him, but I finally understand that it was that I fought for his life.  He mattered that much to me.  And, more importantly, getting God’s message out to the world is of utmost importance – which I have finally come to understand this very day.

This has been a terribly long message, but I wanted to get as much out as I could while I felt inspired.  If you want to learn more from Mike’s perspective visit:  www.mcombs.com

So, do you believe?  I want to share this with the world and am very open to some help if you feel inspired or led to help.  There is so much to accomplish — God’s message of hope and love must get out!  He is working!

Written by mcombs

March 28, 2008 at 12:29 am

Excerpt from the Michael Combs novel “Ten Days with an Angel”

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“Forever Our Love Exists”

In an instant, a life is conceived.

Stitched together in the Womb…he is named before his birth.

Closer to heaven, than men care to acknowledge…

Farther from sin, than men care to admit.

Born into a cruel world, the baby cries.

Cool air, bright light, sounds that are no longer stifled…

These are the welcoming calls that usher him into his new world.

These are the realities of his new dawn.

He eats,

He sleeps,

He wonders…

He grows into a boy.

He stumbles,

He laughs,

And as he seeks more that what he has…

He learns to run.

Hunger is common,

Fullness is never rare.

Learning is normal,

Fear and comfort become his guides for life.

He learns of love,

He learns of hate,

He learns of sadness,

He learns of humility.

He lies,

He sins.

He forgives,

And he learns to accept the thoughts of want.

The boy grows nearly every day.

His feet cause him to stumble.

He watches, and continues to learn.

He seeks not wisdom, but experience becomes his hunger, and his passion.

Soon he is a man,

His boyish ways fall behind him.

Looking back, he yearns…

Yet looking forward, he aches.

He works, and struggles to survive.

This life, however grand, comes with a price.

He learns to want for more,

He learns to compete.

Arriving to fulfill his days, comes his soul mate.

He finds his spouse to complete his life.

They walk together from their marriage day forward.

He is not to experience loneliness again.

The reward of life comes with children.

Small lives eager to learn, and love.

He remembers, what it was like,

He longs once again for those simple days.

Life brings challenges,

And Life brings rewards.

He finds that stumbling now brings wisdom,

And wisdom becomes his compass.

But, what does a life represent?

Can it be measured by days, or years?

Oh please, let it not be so!

Let us instead celebrate our lives by finding a way to measure charity and faithfulness!

He scours the horizons,

Only to find them ever eternal.

No matter where he goes,

The sun continues to rise and set…filling his days with the measurement of time.

How can life be this simple?

Certainly there must be more!

He seeks to know knowledge.

He ponders his very existence.

Standing tall, he confronts his own reality.

In his search, the path ultimately leads to a higher being…

for he finds that he can not know himself…

until he knows God.

Oh life…why am I here?

Might I be granted a purpose for my existence?

Why must I learn to accept myself first?

Why must I seek more knowledge, when it is wisdom that escapes me?

A heart beats…counting out the rhythms of life.

Yet found even deeper within, it is discovered that the heart contains love.

It becomes the only part of a man that remains as pure as heaven.

It is constantly, and ever ready to overpower evil.

The heart is a man’s ultimate dictator.

Once given authority, it rules his life…

Dominating the decisions of love and happiness…

Forcing a man to succumb to the simplest of pleasures.

Yet, when the beating of his heart stops…

when the muscles can no longer contract…

and when his soul departs this world…

There remains behind something that endures forever,

Within that man’s life, however short…

there is found an immeasurable greatness that is sometimes deeply hidden,

and is sometimes left open for all to partake in:

It is his love.

Love that was his to give, or love that he chose to withhold.

Love that he sought from others, but discovered from within.

His love endured through all of the measurable,

and prevailed over that which was immeasurable.

When not a single thought was left,

and when a tear could no longer fall…

his life was ultimately measured by his love.

When the light no longer struck his eyes,

And music became silent to his ears…

His life was ultimately measured by his love.

When his mornings no longer existed,

and his evenings were left for another to enjoy…

his life was ultimately measured by his love.

Cold life!

Happy life!

Frustrating life!

Beautiful life!

His life was a truly a gift.

His life endured eternity.

His life made us wonder,

and look within ourselves.

Lord, grant me one more day.

Let me take this day, and waste it not…

But instead, let me use this day for the betterment of myself,

and ultimately for the betterment of others.

Let me strike a harmonious chord with my brothers,

Let me sing from my heart!

Let me dance from my soul!

And Lord, if this day shall end up to be my last,

Then let my last act be one of love, and of kindness.

And Lord, if yesterday was my last day to gaze upon the sun and the hills,

Then let my brothers think highly enough of me to  lower me gently into my grave.

Let the remembrance of me cause a tear…not for what I gave, or what I accomplished.

But Lord, above all else…may I be remembered for how I loved.

Written by mcombs

February 7, 2008 at 10:34 pm

Posted in New Stories