February Twenty-eighth; Passion, It Isn’t Just Lust

 I am sitting here watching two of the feral cats eating the food I just put out for them. At the rate they are eating you would swear they hadn’t eaten in days rather than a few hours. I may end up having to find something else for the third if it doesn’t show up soon.

 As it is, I’m watching them, enjoying my coffee and wondering if mom will call before I leave for church this morning. I am scheduled to help with the two and three year old children in the nursery today and next Sunday.

There is a stack of faith based books between me and the window. One I’ve read, the others are waiting. I am also working on this writing and the other ideas that pop up in my head at any given time.

 Okay, you’re thinking, what does any of that have to do with passion?


There are twelve definitions for passion on this site. Here, I am considering the number 6, a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything.

My mother taught me a deep love for animals. She has fed the birds for as long as I can remember. Once, when they were still living in this house, she was late taking the left over breakfast out to them. One flew over the house, went to the kitchen window near the table and pecked on the window until she got up and took the paper plate out and placed it on the well. 

There was the time, just after we had all gone to bed, that we heard a howling that sounded as if it came from the depths of hell. We did not have air-conditioning at the time so all the windows were open. The howling went on for what seemed like forever. The next morning, mom and I walked down the hill. At the base of the hill was a dog that had from the looks of it, been hit by a car. One leg was injured to the point it couldn’t walk but it wasn’t life threatening. We are talking about something that happened when I was maybe nine years old, so probably fifty four years or so ago. Access to help was not as it is today. So every day that summer, we walked down the steep hill to where the dog had found shelter in a cave created over an old tire and made sure it had food and water. One morning, it was gone. Later that day it limped through the yard as if to say thank you and good bye and disappeared. It had the look of something that knew where it was going.

My dad raised and trained, pointer bird dogs for a while. This one had thirteen puppies her first litter. She had no idea what to do and had refused to let them suckle. The milk was hardening inside her so mom held her down and made her feed the puppies ridding her of the bad milk and saving the puppies as well. She also went to a feed store and purchased replacement milk to help feed the litter. All thirteen lived. Mom dog, followed my mom around forever after that. She knew. 

So I take care of the critters, it has been deeply instilled within my heart, you take care of the animals. Yes, the feral cats could find their own food, but I hope to get them to trust me to the point I can get them unafraid and find them a home.

I love to read, I have shelves of various types of books in different parts of the house. From fiction to non fiction to faith based to cooking. Mom was a reader, she could finish a paperback in a few hours if she was left alone. When left alone, and with no distractions, I can almost match that. 

I love the days when it is my turn to help with the kids at church. Its different now with the pandemic thing. We can hug or hold them as we once did, the toys they are allowed are different but the kids are still kids. They adapt to change quickly. Their imagination and energy is as contagious as any virus. Their laughter is a beautiful song in its own right.

 I have mentioned several times about joining the Jeep group. I joined because I had discovered their heart for charity. Not the big organizational charities where you wonder how much actually goes to the ones in need, but charity for local needs. They support local business and they support local people. I was among the many who helped with a toy drive where hundreds of toys and bikes were collected. They have had a jeep run where a convoy of jeeps participated to raise money for a local police officer who died in the line of duty. So far this group has raised over two thousand dollars for that alone. Soon they plan a drive by for a young girl who just recently had a heart transplant. The creator of this group is pure energy. I asked her yesterday how many pairs of boots she goes through in a year because she doesn’t stop. 

I write. I have been writing since I have been able to connect words together to form a coherent sentence. The words flow to the page just as the blood flows through my body. Even if no one ever read what I wrote, I would still write because I can not, not write. There may be times of interruption, but then I will pick it up again as if the interruption had never happened. It is the way to express, to explain, to share, to entertain what lurks within this brain of mine.

I also Believe. Often you see or hear comments made about how can anyone believe in a God that you can’t see. How can you not see? Look at the world around you. Look at how everything in nature works and fits together as long as man doesn’t mess it up. There have been times when accidents I had should have been in the very least worse than what they were. We were provided for in times of difficulty. I was not alone in my cancer battle nor when my husband died. He has guided me along this journey showing me how strong I am, and teaching me the ways to be stronger, more capable, unafraid. 

The dictionary site has  twelve definitions for passion, some yes dealing with deep love and lust. But in truth, passion, is more than that. Its more than what is felt between two people. Passion, from the heart, mind and soul, it isn’t just lust.

About rebecca s revels

A writer, a photographer, a cancer survivor. An adventurer of the mild kind, a lover of the simple pleasures such as long walks and chocolate. A Christian unashamed of my faith and a friend who is dependable and will encourage readily. Author of three self published books with more waiting to find their way to paper. An advocate of good things, a fighter against wrongs.
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3 Responses to February Twenty-eighth; Passion, It Isn’t Just Lust

  1. I am so glad that you take care of God’s creatures! I know He loves that too, and has shared HIs heart for them with you. Wonderful thoughts too about passion.

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