Friday, March 30, 2012

March Thirtieth

Night comes each day, signalling an ending to another window of opportunity, another door of possibility. With each night comes the reflection of the morning, the memory of the afternoon, the lingering feeling of dusk. Words were spoken. Promises made. Attempts failed. Mistakes unavoided. Friendships strengthened. Deadlines met. Skills refined. Each night is a landmark of a day lived, a day learned, a day loved.


The word count on my screen continues to go up with each stroke of a key. A meaningless commercial blares on the television screen. My eyelids feel heavy, itchy, my contacts beg to come out. The only connection I feel with my brain are my fingers that stroke the keys. Somehow, the strings of my heart are ever so slightly touched with each stroke.

My thoughts are a thousand miles away in a car speeding down the freeway. A pink sundress that makes me feel beautiful. A warm beach off the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. Saying goodbye to my mother at the MTC. My thoughts come closer to home and think of a hospital, a commissioner, Applebee's, Italy, my itchy contacts, 60 watt lightbulbs and do it yourself crafts from Pinterest. But then they travel far away again to a dark movie theatre in Eureka, California. They flutter to the many different homes in which I've lived. Yet in all of it, they are guarded. Hidden from even myself. My thoughts carry with them secrets in the folds of their privacy.

Sometimes the wonderment of my life is more fascinating than the reality of it. Sometimes it's the hope of what could be, what will be, what should be that gets me through the here and now. The comparison of a life can be daunting, discouraging, defeating. However, it is rarely accurate. The carpenter of my life has a different set of plans for me to follow. I trust His skills, His craftsmanship, His expertise. I read His words, feel His love, observe His influence. Patience, He whispers. Patience until you become what you need to be.

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