Tangled Lights

You can get tangled in so many ways…

  • some of my friends might feel similar to the lights put away in a rush.  (I am blessed to see you once in a blue moon, but I hold your friendship dear to me.  We keep each other in our thoughts and prayers, even though we see each other mostly on social media)
  • some might see me as too “conservative” for them because of position or impression. (these friends put me on a pedestal and I wish I could be more tangled for them so they could see how completely messed up I am, possibly even more than they could imagine)
  • some are totally different than I am.  They come from diversity, ethnicity, or some other …ity.  I love them dearly and appreciate their gifts to my life.  (My other friends see them as tangled and are confused to why I need these people in my life, because they may not fit into theirs)
  • the last group, the most important — not because they are last, but because they are — are those people that simply put up with me because of my “tangledness.”  I’m not easy to understand, be with, care about or like. Bruised to the bone and beyond, if discovered you lose a sense of hope over time.  I have been there and I still am…there.

I love tangled lights and the challenge of stretching them to their potential after being knotted into an impossible knot.  I can appreciate how they go there and how they are going to get out of there.  I love the tangle.

What I don’t like is the burnt out, dead bulb that refuses to light. Even if the light is dim and weakened it’s still doing something.  Trying to be a bright light even if can only muster a small weak glow.  That’s another topic for another time.

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