We’re not really born with a fair shake, you know. We start out this life in teeny tiny little bodies that are completely defenseless then we grow into children who do not understand that cars whizzing by on the street are dangerous. Then onto teenagers fueled by junk food and raw emotion often ill-controlled. The twenty-something’s who think life is in the palm of their hands and their plans are the beautiful, world changing kind. Into our thirties we slow down a little bit, maybe have a family, maybe altered dreams completely, but the beauty is still there if a bit less dim. The forties and fifties, some say they’re the new twenties packed with whole new dreams about this new, wiser portion of life – the kids are growing up and that means more grown up time. Again. The sixties: grandbabies crying and the silver hair let’s opinions be heard with some respect. Seventy, eighty, ninety. The respect seems to dwindle as Let the journey rage on does ability. Dreams change to regr...
Reflections of One Redeemed