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It’s like the taste of honey. It’s like the feel of new money. It’s like the smell of an infant wrapped in a blanket that came straight from the dryer. It’s like the first time you tasted love. The first time you had a gleam in your eye and the first time you tasted Granny’s sweet potato pie on the Sunday afternoon when the breeze of youth still touched your cheeks.

It’s like thunder on a clear day that came from a hidden doorway of joy. A joy so powerful that it knocked you back to yesterday just long enough to know that you no longer belong there and you’re happy you survived and lived to tell about it. It’s like something that you didn’t understand until you stepped into it because it’s like nothing you’d experienced until you experienced it.

It’s when you stopped on your road to Damascus and saw the light of another day shining back at you so furiously that you had to just fall to your knees and shout glory

It’s like the first time you tasted a strawberry…your first strawberry dipped in chocolate. So luscious that you couldn’t get your mind wrapped around the flavor of your freedom, the liberation in techi-colored chocolate that was so sweet that it caused you to sing, even when you knew you couldn’t carry a tune. It’s like an ever-flowing stream on an everlasting dream on an ever-moving theme that holds you captive…and then releases you into an unknown airspace where you can actually fly..without wings.

It’s like coming to a new city that you know you’ve never visited and yet, you know where you’ll be staying because your address keeps calling your name. It keeps courting you, singing to you, just sending its essence to you to let you know that you are welcome. You are wanted. You are no longer waiting. You are no longer stuck in a place of unfamiliarity because you are home.

This thing is an experiment with an experience that you cannot forget because with every foot step, it reminds you of where you’ve walked and the lives you’ve touched and the ones still longing and needing to be touched by the fire of your inner power, your inner flame that still burns hot with a passion for life, liberty, and all things lovely.

That fire just burns continuously reminding you that you are a heat source for those who come after you. Keeping the flames burning to light the trails that grow dim in the darkness of exclusion, division, and rejection because no one understands the silent screams of dreams that die while trying to escape obscurity as he savagely steals their life force. You still have the power, the know how, the technique and the wisdom to move him out of your way and the way of young ones still struggling to breathe. Can’t you just smell the air? Can’t you just feel the power of He who created you so that you could move mountains?

This thing called turning 50 is like a wild fire uncontained! It’s like a hotness that cannot be extinguished with the waters of your yesterday. Those waters aren’t strong enough. They are not resilient enough to quench this flow. They aren’t deep enough to cast this net. They aren’t powerful enough to hold the course. Girl, at 50, you can let them go!

This thing is like feminine perfume personified! It can only be experienced when you listen to a Voice bigger than you own, stronger than you, wiser than you. Because He knows your name. He knows your frame. He understands your game because He created it and you. He knows your mind and knows where to find…the real you.

Girl, it’s so good to stand inside the golden doors and experience jubilee!

“I’m standing inside the Golden Doors and loving it! How about you?”

Standing Inside The Golden Doors…

©2016 - Dr. Gail Hayes - Handle Your Business Girl