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We have stories to share with you and you have stories we’d love to readIsn’t it funny how hindsight lends 20/20 vision? Who of us has not yearned for such clarity in viewing our future choices? Ahhh, if only. This “if only” got me to thinking “what if?” What if I could offer those who have struggled with and beaten life’s adversities a platform from which to share wisdom with others facing the same struggles? What if I could offer them a place to communicate with one another, to encourage and inspire. To celebrate together victories of renewal. And so www.renewalstories.com came to fruition. Here, we publish your renewal stories and offer you the opportunity to interact online with others either engaging in or overcoming life’s sometimes-tough battle arena. The stories included here might result from disasters such as divorce, death, drugs, crime, or something as simple as lack of forgiveness. On the other end of the spectrum, the story might evolve from something wonderful––a birth, a marriage, a from-left-field blessing––as sometimes these can spin life into unprecedented chaos. Humor is welcome. What is life without laughter? We’re interested in how you worked through your situation to emerge whole and fulfilled. Renewed. How did you come to your renewal/revival of spirit? This website is open to writers and non-writers alike. I’m convinced that everybody has at least one inspiring story to tell. Now’s your chance to tell it! You have a great audience just waiting for it. I am an author who writes to make a difference. Hosting this warm, enlightening website opens wide a door for me, along with you, to do just that. No story is too little or too big. If yours comes from the heart, it fits! So, let us hear from you! E-mail me at emilysue@renewalstories.com, leave a comment on one of the blog entries, or post your own entry on the reader blog. Warmest Regards, |
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My Ocean
By Clare W. Miller
From the moment I first saw it in Atlantic City when I was five years old, I was in love with the ocean and called these big waters “My Ocean.” Sure, others swam in it and enjoyed it, but somehow, it was my ocean, so enamored with it was I.
The Boardwalk was wonderful, with all the colors and lights and sounds, and the sights of the swimmers, the ladies with their black swim attire that covered their entire bodies from neck to ankle, and the men who were permitted to have their arms showing, and their legs exposed from the calf down. It was fascinating to me, a wide-eyed child, the youngest of eight children, and I thought my father was a genius to have given me this gift of the ocean. Despite the many attractions and distractions, my eyes would drift back to the sea, and my heart would fill with joy at the sight of it.
We only spent a few days there, but my ocean was solidly entrenched in my heart. It wasn’t until eight years later that my mother, sisters, and I returned to Atlantic City, not for a visit, but to live there.
Marcus’s Marks
By Keith H. Miller
I should be used to these lonely times, I thought, breathing Charleston’s balmy sea air. Here I sit in my own company, embraced by the best comforts of the natural world, yet a longing, unnamed, stirred restlessly in the wailing silence.
Bobbi, my wife, should be with me. My love of music had brought me out to the lush gardens of Charleston’s Middleton Place, where I regularly played classical guitar at dinnertime, but it was the care of our autistic son, Marcus, that kept my Bobbi from me that evening. I fought down a niggle of resentment and focused on the moment’s serenity.
I could feel the moment and it was beautiful. Gray moss, weaving and tangled, swayed lightly in the warm, spring breeze. Overhead, an old oak twisted long solemn arms out towards the banks of the Ashley. The smell of fresh grass, wintered mold, and humus vied against salt-tainted air as sunlight intermittently gave way to high clouds, white and towering. Quiet and alone I sat, my soul meditating while my body sensually experienced southern majesty.
The Nudge
By Cappy Hall Rearick
I am often aware of the things I should do to make needed changes in my life, but all too often resist. The word change scares me into the middle of next week. When it gets real bad, God gives me a nudge.
A case in point: I was riding my bike on a perfectly beautiful autumn day. The sun was floating high in the sky, warming the air just enough to keep me from breaking a sweat. The sky itself was Easter Egg Blue, and a loud cacophony of bird chirps followed me down the street. I felt like singing “Zippity-Doo-Dah.”
I saw the black car as I approached the busy intersection and knew in a moment that it was traveling much too fast. My last thought before crashing into the side of it was, “He’s not going to stop.”
A paramedic was gazing into my eyes while other emergency personnel covered my body with a light blanket when I regained consciousness. I was totally confused with no memory of what had happened.
“Am I having a bad dream?”
