Be Brave.  
*Inhales deeply*
I tell four friends the new status quo.  Two of the three, “you’re handling this very well.”  Thanks.  The third, “how can I help?”  You can’t, no one can.  The fourth, “I am so sorry sweetheart.”  Yeah.  *Sigh*      
Be Brave. 
I bought this bracelet when I went solo to South Dakota to gain my residency, reclaim my last name and figuratively start over.  I am in love with South Dakota.  It has spirit everywhere.  My young business was starting to show promise.  I was filled with hope.  A weight had been lifted that I didn’t even realize had been so burdensome.  I felt free.  That was October last year.  
I’m preparing to be on the move again.  The few things I’d been maintaining will now go into storage with the rest.  I’m not as excited about being on the move again as I once was.  I had such hopes of a home.  A brief but genuine excitement of a garden, a home office, a puppy.  But sometimes a home is just not for everyone.  So I prepare my truck, pack my bag and tell Nip to load up.  Again. 

Be Brave.
I am growing very tired.  I’m not sure how long I’ll be on the road this time.  Every handshake deal I have made the last few months has fallen through.  I am tired of people changing their minds on me.  But that has always been a fault of mine.  You know, taking people at their word.  It’s a bad habit.  I wonder where the red truck will take me now? 
This summer will fly by I am sure.  Each year seeming to get shorter and shorter.  How can a person be so stuck and so free at the same time?  I recall my dream of the Bear and the giant voice telling me to “Wait”.  I’m trying desperately to heed that still.  For surely there is something better.  Surely if it was meant for me it would have been, so I can walk away peacefully.  Surely the right place, the right person and the right time will all be revealed soon enough.  God’s timeline is not my own.  The Bear told me exactly what I needed to do.  I suppose I am not done waiting.  But as I am stepping out again, feeling like a bird flying over the ocean searching for land, my heart races just a little.  Where will I land?  Where is the land that I may rest?  Where…no, will…will I ever land?  But like a bird searching for land I too, have no choice but to keep flying.  And to be brave.