August Nineteenth; In This, My Month of Birth, If I Could Ask For a Gift, It Would Be…

Dreams to reality.

For as long as I can remember, I have dreamed of and wanted to be an award winning, best selling author. I was writing stories as soon as I could string sentences together. I dreamed of seeing my name on the cover of a book. I took a few classes along the way. I bought shelves full of books on how to do this or that or the other thing pertaining to writing. Most of which I still own. I joined online sites and participated in challenges. All the while dreaming a dream. I did self publish three books. Like many others before me, they sold some but otherwise sit on that virtual bookshelf waiting for someone to wander by and possibly purchase. I was not a good promoter of self. Being an indie author means wearing many hats and taking on all the aspects of the process. Yet I still plot and plan and dream.

Not only about writing and books though. There are other dreams that occupy my mind and heart.

Haiti, where over two thousand people are confirmed dead from the earthquake.

Afghanistan, we’ve all seen and heard what is going on there. We know what happened in the past and fear for people there who are considered undesirable or blasphemers to Shari law. We have seen the photos of those fleeing. The blame game going on around us. This or that person, this or that failed, this or that, who and when. All the while, people are trapped and afraid.

Wildfires all over the world.;l:country-outline;@276.9,15.4,2z Whether accidental, weather related or intentional, larger areas are burning. As they burn, large areas of land and homes and cities are destroyed. Sadly, tragically, more than buildings are lost.

Homeless, unemployed, uninsured, uneducated elderly, the young, the alone, the afraid, the sick, those who feel abandoned, those who have abandoned.

What does all of that have to do with dreams?

All of that, has to do with people. People died and were injured in Haiti. People are still searching for loved ones as hope fades. People are struggling to move forward. It is the people of Afghanistan, humans, men, women, children who are at risk in a new government that is reported to have stated that democracy has no place there, it is now full Shari law. Those who battled against the Taliban are at risk of retribution. The wildfires are taking the lives of people. Those who were caught unaware, unprepared, not willing to leave in an attempt to protect what they had. In the end, losing what can’t be replaced. The long and yet incomplete list ..of people.

My dream, is that we can find ways, to come together. We can find ways that use our differences to create better. I have said before, we are all like pieces of a colorful puzzle. Individually we are important, but lacking something. Each other. Together, we create a finished product that is glorious. Or we could, if we would. If the border pieces wouldn’t deride the center pieces, if the blue would stop insulting the green, if the solid color would not ridicule the multicolored. The border may create a nice square, and the center a beautiful scenery, but they are incomplete.

 Humanity for infinite reasons are all different. Each person an individual in their own right and ways. Each beautiful. When individuals come together to work toward a purpose, it is an amazing and awe inspiring thing to see. Accomplishments are made. I’ve watched hundreds of motorcycle riders come together and fill trailers with toys. I watched dozens of Jeep owners, fill a warehouse with toys, for children for Christmas. I’ve watched citizens of small towns fill fifty-two foot long trailers with water and other emergency supplies for disaster stricken areas. For the people in need.

 People coming together to help people. People setting differences aside, reaching out to encourage, to strengthen, to uplift each other. To be the difference for a world so desperately in need. John Lennon wrote a song called Imagine, an anthem of sorts.

With a population so filled with differences, thoughts of them working together is a dream. This can’t over look that, can’t ignore the other, hates what ever, disagrees so can’t work with. So many pieces of a puzzle so large that thoughts of attempting to complete the coming together considered impossible.

 If only, we could love our brothers. If only we could accept our brothers and the differences. If only a dream, could be a reality.

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.
This entry was posted in education, encouragement, faith, growth, Imagine, inspiration, life's journey, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to August Nineteenth; In This, My Month of Birth, If I Could Ask For a Gift, It Would Be…

  1. DiosRaw says:


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