Time for a change

Ever heard of the book Same Kind of Different as Me? I'm here to tell you if you have not... you need to educate yourself right now. 

As I turned all 237 pages of this novel I had an experience I'm not sure will ever be met. At first I was un amused. A novel where the main character wasn't a wizard? Or going to turn the good girl bad with his charm and lump sums of unnoticed money? PLEASE! A book without teens is not a book for me. 

Boy was I wrong. 

I should have known. I should have known right there my life was about to change. Of course a book was going to change my life! Every book does that. 

But this one. It was so different. 

Now, I'm going to spoil a lot for you, but it was spoiled for me too, and it still is worth every letter on every line on every page to read it. 

This novel is about a high class art dealer and a streetwalking ex-slave. Their paths cross when the art dealers more than godly wife decided he had to help at a soup kitchen because she had a calling and a dream in which one of the men (unknown at the time) changes the face of Dallas forever. BOY DID THEY!

For 200 of the 237 pages I cried. My heart wrenched as this once cheating husband helped his frail and fragile wife battle cancer. He was never a religious man, but she was. And together they prayed. They begged and pleaded for her healthy recovery, all while helping out these people who had even less than them. 

Her battle was lost, and for that night so was mine. I was torn. My tears turned into sobs, my sobs into that awful heaving sound people make when they have gotten to the point where they can no longer remember why they were crying in the first place. This woman was a saint and all because she wanted someone else to be. She had courage and strength, even when it was all taken from her. Even when there was nothing left. 

I turned the back cover over the last page and immediately began to think of all the ways I had to change the world. It obviously had to be big, and it obviously had to happen right away. 

YURIKA!! 

One of my friends who I had lost touch with over the past year was going on a mission trip and they were looking for help with the cost. Clearly I would pay it all. Let me get my check book I declared to my finally calming mind.

That piece of paper caught fire faster than a bad Harry Potter spell. My bank account was not enjoying my new  want to help the world. Really bank account? Isn't there some rule that when you are doing good no amount of money should matter?

So I settled on a little less and made peace with my first attribution to this place of help. 

But it wasn't my last one. I have now decided on a new project. From this week on I will do one gesture each seven day period. May it be sending money to an organization (that will be few and far in between... sorry heavens about but a kind of-journalist just doesn't roll in dough) or be it something to help myself, perhaps a fear I need to overcome or someone I need to forgive. Either way I will do it all over this blog. The very few people that read it will have to put up with weeks of me trying new things and I'm sure failing some, if not all, of them. I won't leave out any details and I wont tell you anything the way it did not happen.

Here goes nothing.