Charlie Rose

It's dark and raining, today. My heart is a little sad.

While planning goals that would serve as a map for my new year, I did not intend to start it with an emotional blog post.

My husband and I attended a funeral, this afternoon.

Charlie Rose: Lifelong farmer, deer hunter and fisherman. My down-the-road neighbor. His hayfield lays out across the country road from my century old farmhouse. He waved from his tractor or silver truck every time he spotted me outside. I bought sweet potatoes from him on my front porch. We alerted him when rascally kids went 4-wheeling through his field at night. A little socially awkward, he thrust his arm in front of me so I could touch where that prize winning pig had left a tooth! I imagine he would lend his help if ever we would've called. But, we did not. We would've been there for him, if he would've called. But, he did not.

Now, many in this farming countryside ask that all too often unanswered question, "Why?"

Hopeless despair is a dark prison isolating its captives while the key is in their pocket. 

Perhaps, the new mommy can't place a finger on why she's so blue. That big guy may be too embarrassed about his emotions. Maybe, it's a new season in one's life where he or she feels lost and no longer needed. There are people who suffer clinical imbalance, temporary or long-term, requiring the intervention of a qualified counselor. There's nothing wrong with that. With the grey, shorter days of winter settling in, many battle seasonal affective disorder (SAD).

The despairing smile to our faces and wave from their tractors, but go home and close the door to their prison cell.

Do this one thing: Check on your neighbors. The dumb thing to say is "I don't know them," and do nothing. You -and I- may be a ray of hope piercing their darkness while there's still time.

The Dessert Menu: (suggested books and media)
God Will Make a Way by Dr. Henry Cloud & Dr. John Townsend
Website: https://store.cloudtownsend.com/special-interests.html