One little thing…
One little strand that goes astray; a tiny fragment of life that’s out of order. The other pieces seem unimportant in light of the one that has fallen, the one that is out of place.
Narrowed focus has become my burden. I pay too much attention. I dwell. If only I could widen my gaze. If only I could shift my eyes from the shadows and look into the light.
Life is a series of moments.
I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. For some reason, this simple line slipped into my mind like a gentle whisper, and it feels as though it has been tugging at my heart. Moments. What are moments? I would describe them as fleeting points in time, pieces of life that flash only briefly before your eyes and then fade into the distance. Moments don’t last very long.
But the more I think about it, the more I realize that life isn’t just one dusty, winding road with no end in sight. It is simply a single step, that leads to another step as soon as we attempt the first one. The steps are all connected but we must mount the ones at the bottom before we can move on to the top. All too often I try to skip steps. I view my future as a daunting journey and when I dwell on all that lies ahead, the mere prospect is far too overwhelming.
Words fly across the page,
Ink sputters to compete,
With thoughts that race for recognition
The soul pours into scribbled lines,
Of honesty that startles.
Dreams are such a fragile treasure,
Sealed so close to home,
Values beyond any measure,
Lest these hopes may roam.
Dazzling visions of a future,
Brighter than the sun
Illusions that appear so sure,
Then come fast undone.
How does the ling’ring heart move on,
Shadowed with this doubt?
No strength remains to sing the song
Life was once about.
At first it is only a whisper,
A glimmer of light through the trees
The shadows rush fast to replace it,
And they bring me down to my knees
A sickening spiral of worry,
Relentless reminders of doubt
Stifled and strangled, hidden so well,
The rest of the world is shut out
This forest of thoughts is a prison,
A cage with the bars held in tight
I cry and despair and seek freedom,
While keys lie in reach and in sight
It’s been a very, very long time since I last posted on this blog, but I’m hopeful that I can turn over a new leaf and start making more regular updates. As one of the co-leaders of a new Christian Youth Group at my school, I thought it would be nice (and give me some structure), if I wrote a blog each week about our ever-changing theme. This week the theme was dating…
You may ask (and would be totally justified in doing so), what makes me qualified to write any kind of reflection about dating? I’ve never dated anyone before and I’ve never had a boyfriend. So maybe it does mean that I don’t have all of the answers when it comes to having relationships, but I think I am more than qualified when it comes to not having them.
“The past is history, the future’s a mystery and today is a gift. That is why it is called the present.” I can’t remember where I heard this quote. Actually I think it was during the Kungfu Panda movie… But that small fact is sadly irrelevant. The reason I started this post with that particular quote is because it so perfectly describes an issue on which I have been dwelling for the last few days.
I have a problem with the present. There, I said it. I know the past is history and I know the future’s a mystery, but for some reason or other I can’t seem to stop myself from living in either, especially the future. I don’t know what’s in store for me and my life and that scares me. A lot of possibilities loom ahead and without knowing in the slightest how things will really turn out, I find myself burdened by worries and fears. ‘What if that happened?’ ‘If things go this way, how will I cope?’ ‘How will I deal with that problem?’
Today I handed in a world religions essay about God’s existence. I spent hours researching nice, neat, little arguments to prove that somewhere out there, God really is watching over us. These arguments were logical and in my opinion, made very strong cases to support my main idea. I was proud of how it turned out. But along the way I realized something…
You can’t prove God. You can try all you want to put him into a man-made box of science and reason, but it just won’t work. Why? Well, think about it. Even if you don’t believe in God, you have to agree that a being capable of creating the universe and billions of human beings each with unique talents and gifts, would have to be pretty great. He would have to be pretty smart. In fact, He would have to be pretty much completely beyond our imaginations. How could a single, small, finite human being like me attempt to explain such a powerful, amazing, awesome, superior God?
Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la la la la la!!!
In other words, the Christmas season has begun, and as the rest of the song goes, “tis the season to be jolly!” When white, fluffy snow blankets the ground and bright, cozy lights shine from every corner, I find the whole world seems happier, or “jollier,” I guess you could say. Sure, it’s still November, and maybe there is more slush than snow, but to me, that feeling of Christmas is already here! It is the first week of Advent, so that also got me thinking about Christmas and what it really means…
I’ve been sitting here for the past 15 minutes trying to figure out how to start my blog. How do you start a blog? I mean, I guess it’s different for everyone, but what should I do? Should I introduce myself first, or get into what I want to talk about right away? And what do I want to talk about anyways? So many questions… And like usual, I’m not sure about the answers. But if there’s one thing I’m learning, it’s that maybe, sometimes, there is no right answer. Maybe the right answer for me would be completely wrong for someone else.
I guess I might as well introduce myself, now that I’ve bridged that always difficult opening paragraph. My name is Jenny and I am a high school student who loves to write, which is pretty much why I decided to start my own blog. I have a lot to say and written words always seem to express my thoughts best. Who knows: maybe no one will even read this blog but me. If that happens, I guess you could say that I’m wasting my time here talking to myself, which may seem a little weird. But by now, I should really learn to embrace my weirdness instead of fighting it!