Black Sheep, you are different not undesirable; misunderstood not disreputable. Honor is a power of the heart not a reflection of surroundings or surrounding attitudes. Your heart is strong. You do not fail, you climb. Failure is for those who do not move their hooves. Your hardy little even-toed hooves go, go, go! You ascend at your own pace. If you trip, you bleat, but you try again. Resilience. Among the scrutinizing eyes of your compeers I feel your pain, and yet I applaud—for there is no shame in being who you are or what God made you. No embarrassment, only delight. No shame, only honest pride. Some look at you and see deviation from the flock. I see straightforwardness.
Black Sheep, you are beautiful, and as you should be.
At times I've been asked why I dream and word-paint so much in metaphorical pictures. It’s the language I've known since I can remember! In some situations, times, or events, dreams are the only thing a person has, until “I have always been” knocks at your heart’s door with the proclamation, “I am here, seek no longer.” Open that door and things can happen.
There’s a saying, hope deferred makes the heart ache. Be it from a disappointing reality, a lost search for a part of one’s soul, an unfulfilled goal, or an indirect path.
I’m a whimsical dreamer and forever will I be. Because of hope. Because a dream fulfilled is a tree of life. (Proverbs 13:12)
I’m in love with things that are different and unconventional, drawn to mysteries, secrets, and intrigue. While anything open and superficial has little sway.
Yet, as a writer, sitting in the wake of mainstream choices and actions, I hear, “Do this!—everybody else is doing it.” A good sport, I’ll often respond, “Okay, sure.” Many things I will give a virgin try. But I often find, in my attempts, I only circle, end up back at square one, and wonder why I had embarked on an overly crowded journey in the first place. Especially when I’m in love with things different and unconventional. Toss in a bit of philosophical, well then, I’m at home. Where does that leave this kind of writer in an open, loud, and acceptance-seeking world?
“Just tell me how to be different in a way that makes sense.”—Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Sometimes I think I ought not to stick my neck out as far as I do. Most of the time I think, Go on, stick it out there…way out. Conviction isn’t always easy.