It's different from waking asking, "Where am I?" ... "Who am I with?" ... or "What have I done?"
Rooted more in a deep, sincere appreciation, I find myself marveling at where I'm at ... who I'm with ... and all the things I've done, both good and bad ... that somehow leaves me here.
What did I do to deserve this?
The mere fact that I'm alive is staggering enough given the number of times I've almost died in car crashes, doing stupid dangerous things because I believed I'm invincible or, by the grace of God, barely missing what could have done me in.
My record of romance looks like a minefield ... tiny exploded pieces of heart lay everywhere in the past yet here I live with the woman I love more than anything ... who loves me back more ... having the excited mystique of a lifetime!
My kids, the proudest accomplishment in life all left to get on with their own lives ... leaving me in an empty nest that's now quite full of happiness and little girls ... and just last night the most selfish of the bunch threw her arms around me, kissed my cheek whispering "Thank you" and my heart's still bursting today.
We live on an island where I always knew I'd live and can't imagine living anywhere else except another clump of sand ... Ocean, Salt Water, hot weather, the ebbs and flows of ever changing sand and lush Tropical landscapes has always been the setting of my living.
In spite of lying politicians, corporate greed and selfish leaders, my work is incredibly satisfying, leaving me knowing I'm not done yet and still making a difference in this world.
God's still using me in spite of myself as I remain a Minister-at-large and the one mostly in charge of a worship service in a Bar reeking of stale beer, cigarette smoke and Holiness every single Sunday.
I have a few good friends who will come to the ends of the earth for me ... even when I don't want them to ... but they love me anyway and we share richness beyond measure ... and stories that make us laugh ... and they're mostly true.
Little things delight me ... Goddess laying under my feet when I write ... playing at the Monty Park's Jam with the gang on Tuesday nights at Doc's ... a grandson leaves me in wonderment every time I see his picture ... the aroma of the Marsh ... the flower blooming beside my desk ... the smell of fish frying.
I have no idea how I got here.
No idea why.
I'm just thankful as Hell ... with tears ... that this is where I am.
