MegBeck

If dogs could read, this is the letter I would write our dear friend Judd who just passed away over the weekend and post mark it to Heaven's Gate. (That is in fact my one wish from God, that he will let dogs in heaven. My barter with him goes something like this, "God if you let dogs in heaven, I promise I'll open my mouth and tell as many people as I can about your son to try and lead them to your kingdom.) I just really love dogs. But I guess that's no secret. Enough about that, back to my letter. Dearest friend, You showed me many things in your two short years of life. I just wanted to thank you. You taught me that big hearts are far more admirable than what you can offer as a premium package. If you were to go to a job interview, you would get hired for your bright personality, your eagerness to live life, and the way you could make people laugh; not necessarily because you were the greatest at chasing cattle. I can apply this to my life so easily lit

This is a post to remind you you're human. This is a post to remind you not of your imperfections, but of the perfect path you are on. Wherever you are in this exact moment is where you are supposed to be. And oddly enough, we fight against this truth every day of our lives, because much of the time we have different ideas of what we would be doing now; where we would be living, how much money we would be making, the bodies we would have, the things we would have accomplished, the gardens we would have planted, the things we wanted for our children, the letters we should have written, the exercising we intended to do, the people we were supposed to end up with, the projects we never finished, and the trips we would have taken. We look in the mirror and see bags, wrinkles, double chins, and gray hairs. We see mistakes, regret, and imperfection. We lay in our beds and thoughts of failure, anxiety, and fear, roll around in our brain like a game of pool, constantly knocking into on