wave of gratitude

I blame it on Datha. Her post on Facebook:

Check out this awesome article by Judy Garrison of Seeing Southern. She was my journalism teacher in high school, and I had the pleasure of writing for the magazine she edits, Georgia Connector Magazine. She has gone on to do some pretty fabulous things.

It has been a good week, one where all those hours sitting in solitude before a computer screen praying the perfect words erupt from my fingers do so - and by deadline - , come full circle. I see them published, whether online or in print. Sometimes this is months down the road, even a year has gone by since I pushed the key "send." This is happening more and more lately (a very good thing), and each time is as magical as the last. My words and Len's photographs help to introduce people to a unique destination, change vacation itineraries for people I've never met, encourage men and women to look beyond their own community for enrichment, document the lives of people most will never meet but have a significant influence in the world. I love what we do. Travel and writing about it has made me so much richer, and it has nothing to do with money.

Now, back to Datha . . . I read her post while at an intersection in the back of a long line of cars that wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. And poof, the tears just flowed. My teacher. Some pretty fabulous things. How in the world did I get so lucky? Then, I realized this. It was because I was a teacher of some of the most outstanding people on the planet, because I challenged myself to be better than yesterday, because I dared to dream a little bit bigger than normal, because I really didn't want to take no for an answer, and because I let God direct me through all of it. Pick me up through all of it. Provide me with patience through all of it. I cried a little more.

I sat in the rear of the line of cars for almost 5 minutes. I cried for almost 5 minutes. I wiped my face as I began to move. Thank you Lord. Thank you for it all. Now, what's next?