When I was in college, I knew someone who was going through a difficult academic semester. Finals were just starting, but she told me she had a terrible feeling something was wrong at home.
She called home — hundreds of miles away — to check on everything. Her mother assured her that everything was fine and told her to just concentrate on her finals. She went back to studying, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that something terrible had happened.
She finally got through with finals and called home. She found that her family had decided to hide something from her. A grandmother who she had been very close to had died — right about the time she first started experiencing the apprehensive feeling that wouldn’t leave her alone. The family had decided not to tell her until finals were over — so as not to academically sidetrack the first person in her family to go to college.
The woman was convinced that she somehow knew something was wrong, even if she never could put her finger on it. I’ve experienced this oddness in my own life. For the second time in the last week, I’ve experienced one of those inexplicable feelings today — and I have no idea what I’m sensing.
Does change really come quickly? Or do we finally accept the truth?
Why can we sabotage ourselves?
Without motivation, dreams fade,
We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
Economic Man needs no heart, because love and God are dead
Smallest ray of hope can make us feel a change we need is coming