Do we ever get too old for life not to surprise, excite or tease us? Are we ever allowed to let age keep us from trying new beginnings or mastering an old challenge?  What is it that pushes some to always move toward a new chapter and others to wait for an end?

I have learned so much over the last few years, more than I could have possibly dreamed because I heard a voice. I confess I am a terrible listener. However, the one time I decided to pay attention was the right time.  When God pulls you close and yells in your ear to the point there is ringing for days, you listen.

A new career began when I opened my ears. I instinctively knew I would be rushing to finish sentences and working to reshape words until the day I left this earth. I understood some would view my new path as a possible precursor to a brain illness or some other malady that befalls folks my age. Even with their doubts as well as my own, I pressed on.

However, I could never continue without my angels. When I recall how this writing journey began over two years ago, it seems surreal. An adopted hometown returned me to the newspaper I read as a teen over 50 years ago. LaGrange Daily News published the first line of my first story. Of course, God wanted it to be about LaGrange. Why not? He knows it is as unique as I do.

After over 100,000 words formed sentences which turned into stories and transformed into weekly articles, I believe many LaGrange citizens are angels.

Those same words have traveled across the country introducing me to people from New Hampshire to Iowa, Colorado to Washington State and places in between. Sentences have forged friendships with folks whom I will never meet, but I shall always remember.

An angel left a gift in my mailbox at Christmas. On the cover of a small notebook is a quote by Ernest Hemingway. Every time I begin to write I read Hemingway’s words, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

Hemingway has a way with words that touch my heart, but the kindness of the angel who gave the gift embraces my soul.

Former teachers, dear old friends, new friends, and family not only in LaGrange but elsewhere encouraging me to always, “keep writing.”

My angels.

When we listen to God’s expectations for us and try our best to achieve them, you can bet God will send angels to guide your path.  Friends who hold our hands through hardships as well as new adventures. Angels who support and inspire us.

I received an email this week from a publisher who needed an article about spring fashion and the mature woman.  I know as much about style as I do about Algebra.  By the way, I failed Algebra.

However, I know the giving, helpful spirit of the women who are my stylish friends.  I had an idea.  I called these four extraordinary neighbors and asked if they could help me with a new story concept for a column.

I gave them very little time to prepare, yet they were ready for their pictures to be taken in spring attire outside by the tulips as their lips turned purple. Words came easy for the story about ageless angels dressed as friends in current spring fashions.

When I write in the silence of my space, I listen to the noises of my life.  I hear the children when they were little and the grandparents of long ago. I am keenly aware of friends as their angel wings flutter around me.

Each person who crosses my life’s path is unique, exquisite, and a beautiful blessing. These angels are my reason there is a story to tell.

When we listen to the voice of God, he opens our eyes as well as our ears.

I am amazed how words have given me a gift which mere words cannot describe.  My life wasn’t near the end; a new chapter was beginning. I had work to do.

All of us do.  Each person is called to continue to strive, to share, to make a difference until the day we take our last breath.

Listen carefully to instructions for the next chapter in your life.  You might be amazed by the angels you meet, and how much you appreciate them.  Live every day expecting it to surprise you, excite you and for sure, keep your ears open.