Recently we attended a funeral of a friend’s nephew. He was 21, a member of the army reserves, and buried with military honors. I’ll never forget the image of his father looking down at the folded flag on his lap with three bullet casings on top. I’m sure he was very proud that his son had lived to serve his country, and found his higher purpose in life.
I have never been a part of the military, and would never aspire to that duty, probably because I’m an artist who likes to break the rules. However, we all have rules to live by. We recognize the norms that society places on us as we become good citizens of the earth by honoring God, family and country.
Funerals always have that effect on me, to further analyze my life, and what I’ll leave behind. Spending quality time with my husband and family is the most important. But there is still a voice that is nagging me to do more. What will I do to make a difference in someone’s life? More than that, help others see something that I feel is a good thing. How can I feel productive and viable in using my artistic strengths to help others?
My creative journey as a God fearing person — with husband by my side — is a blessed life, next to him.
Tresa
On our way to the lake house.
This post is inspired by the Daily Post and celebrating life.
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