God Used Books to Save My Life—in more ways than one!!! Ouch, I feel like I’ve been hit by a School Bus—Because I was!

Hit by a School Bus      So, on my way home from a meeting at my church, I stopped at DSW to purchase a pair of purple pumps to wear to an upcoming event dedicated to Domestic Violence Awareness Month (I had a pretty good DSW coupon, BTW). The Life Journeys Writers Club, Inc. (LJWC) hosted a Relationship Forum/Book Launch for one of its authors. Though all that is dear to my heart, it’s no longer the new news!

     My new news is the week-long revelation and renewed thankfulness for still being above ground living in my passion for the Literary Arts—whether or not all I can do is sit, think and revel in it!

I was on my way home, that afternoon, when a school bus crashed into the back of my car. The impact knocked me out of my shoes, and sent me off the road into a farmer’s crop of something (sorry, I was a NYC kid), trying to avoid oncoming traffic. Reportedly, heard-tell, the Medley Mobile will not survive the crash. However, Charles County’s Finest—EMTs, The Fire Department and The Sheriff’s Department are the best!!!!

And so, last Thursday, I was comforted by those around me, and transported by ambulance to the hospital. This Thursday, I’m here, reaching out to you. That’s a Blessing, and another chance to be wholly focused on what I love doing—writing and encouraging others to do the same! It’s about safe and effective, validating and lasting, and empowering Literary Creative Expression!

[This is just speculation/my opinion as well as the shared opinions of a few others; and if it helps others to rethink deceiving opportunities to drive and multi-task, well then, okay!] It’s allegedly suspected that the bus driver might have been…

Hey Writers—Books Can Save Lives! The Sheriff commented that my book crate (also a casualty) probably kept my trunk from landing in the front seat. The trunk did, however, travel to the back seat And thank God that the LJWC Banner survived. I didn’t find that out until a day or two later when my husband found the vehicle cemetery housing our car’s cadaver.  But, God is good—I have a second book crate at home.

Heartfelt, I thank God because all that could have happened did not happen (such as the loss of life) to anyone in the vicinity of the crash.

Well, darn it, though (a.k.a. $#&^$@#), I will not be wearing my purple pumps for a while, yet, they do look nice in my closet. Oh, and, I’ve been given a second chance for donning, too.

Rock on, Domestic Violence Awareness Month—You, and me (of course, I humbly include myself, heavily adorned in respect due to the dire need for DVA) are still needed in this world to make a difference!  What about YOU!

Remember: Life is Precious — Exercising your Passion, in the Tangible, is Promised to no one. So The Time Is Now!

www.prisonplumbline.com // www.lifejourneyswritersclub.com

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Turning Dreams Tangible

So, yes, I’m watching the Super Bowl. And I’m totally into the excitement. But I’m going happy-crazy out-of-my-mind with energy and frustration. While dedicated sports fans see do-or-die competitive play (and I understand and respect that), I’m seeing the tangible proof of every player who had a dream, realized. And I’m not talking about the winner (because, technically, I’m blogging this before the game’s end. In fact, the stadium lights went off, and right now, it seems that team momentum has changed over. And, yes, the craziness drove me to my laptop—with one eyeball on the screen.

 But each player in the Super Bowl at one point in their too-young life dreamed of this. And they made it! And now, they’re actually in the process of formulating new dreams/goals, and stimulating new pathways to the tangible proof of new visions. Why am I sure of this? It’s because there’s one thing I know they are sure of—if it’s been done once, it can be accomplished, again—and why not, since there’s still breath in the body.

 So what’s driving me crazy? I wanna do it too. Now! In fact my every waking minute (like now), I’m on it, trying to figure it out.

 Okay, I got that off my chest. Let me tell you the tangible I saw today at church. Sitting in the pew right in front of me was a former Heavyweight Champion of the World. I didn’t spy him first, my husband did. The sermon also before me was awesome. It told me, and taught me to hold on, and to praise God for all that’s really lasting—and the Pastor explained why. I got it. But I eyes, heart, and mind bobbed and weaved on the Heavyweight Dreamer Tangible.

 I won’t mention his name just yet, if ever; because I’m hopeful to talk to him more and maybe even help him get his tremendous personal story published. That would be awesome—for this breathing tangible has been through a lot. Bless him. He even told my husband a quick story about how because he is a Heavyweight Tangible, numerous insignificants often challenge him and threaten his life like it was a trophy to behold.

This is paraphrased because really, I was eavesdropping: A guy pulled up next to him at a stop light, noticed who he was, and tried to goad him into a fight for simply no reason, perturbed about it, he explained, “And when I went to step out of the car to see if he meant business, the guy raised up his shirt to show me his gun.” The Heavyweight Tangible told how he just shook his head in disgust, realizing that this silly game had been played again. He got back in his car and drove off. And it was at that point when my mother instincts kicked into the fear mode of knowing just how quickly, and insignificantly your babies (even your grown Heavyweight Tangible babies) can meet up with senseless tragedy in an instant. But working through that is for another blog subject.

 Back to Heavyweight Tangible; even though he’s been through hardships, ups and downs, I noted with gladness that he is still standing, and seeking faith. I also noted that this individual knows what it’s like to Turn a Dream Tangible. And I’m going happy-crazy wanting my turn.

(excuse any typos. i’m watching the game.)

 Is that wrong? How about you? Lemmeknow.  www.yvonnejmedley.com