Blackbird

When I sit to write, I love, love, love to listen to the Beatles.  Somewhere in my deep, long ago hazy memory, the Beatles sing. I ride my bike on a dirt road to my best friend’s house.

Down the street and around the corner and I pedal.  I am transported from girl riding a bike to bird in flight.  I become lost.  Lost in my thoughts and dreams.  A little girl from South Georgia with long brown hair flies to wonderful and mystical places.  Before I know it, I arrive at my friend’s house and land.

I am fifty now.  Time passes in warped speed.  I forgot to dream along the way.  You know, life happens.  It tries to convince me that dreams are for little girls on bikes flying down dirt roads.

A shift occurred in my life recently.  This is the culmination of several years of seeking deliverance from spiritual and mental oppression.  It did not happen overnight

For those of you who don’t know me, I have a great deal of bodily weight to release.  I am confident that my spiritual release will be followed by freedom in all areas of my life.  I hopped or shall I say climbed on a bike this summer at a beautiful beach in Florida.  I didn’t fly, but I did find an enchanted pathway.  I became transfixed by the movement and the beauty along the way.  I am alive!  I hate to say I think my weight may have been a bit much for the bike.

I dream again!  So can you!  Listen to the words of this song.  Take these broken wings and learn to fly.  Yes, Yes, Yes!

blackbird

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