Thursday, April 29, 2010

I want to map a world of you.

There has always been and will always be that question of whether or not we can go back. Memories beg for our attention, and our feet refuse. In our innocence, we are so certain that long ago was our best. We yearn for things to be the way they were, but those ways have left us, and they're never coming back. We long for what's behind, ignoring what's ahead. Why do we wish for what was known and gone when the unknown will always be there for us? The past has left. Though tomorrow is not a promise, the unknown is guaranteed to never leave us. At least that companionship is something we can always count on.
"I feel the distance of the journey yet walked, even though a few steps of it have been taken...just a few. Still, along the way, Heaven has dropped a few articles in my backpack of a heart- Polaroids of faces I've met on my travels, confetti from former celebrations, dust from different corners of the globe, laughter kept in jars from loved ones, prayers on paper, ashes from deep grieving and loss, cages too small to live in any further...unresolved questions that lounge around like loose change at the bottom of my bag. And as I rummage through it all, I am thankful...curious...continually humbled...forever a student on this earth. I am still so stubborn, so impatient, so young... and yet so grateful for the chance to continue learning on this journey...I am standing on tip toe to see what else God's got up His divine sleeve, what else will find it's way into my backpack along the way..." -Joy Williams

So inexperienced, yet sometimes I feel so old. Sometimes I wonder if I lived in Eden whether or not my eyes would be as acquainted as they are with all these things. I know I was never meant to know the grief and pain I have known, and I can only imagine what true innocence is.

But.

My yearning for better life has stretched me. My journeys through these uncharted territories have met me with you. I have found my love in your face that is stained with the bruises of your own stories. I have found my place in your hand as we jump over the hurdles and fall down on the other side. I have seen myself reflected in your eyes too. And knowing that I can call you and hear you say the same things makes my weak arms and feeble knees think that maybe they can go a little longer.
And hearing you laugh revives my heart and my tired head. Thanks for being with me. Thanks for being my friends.

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