Voice.

I will be getting back to regular posts soon (outfits, etc.) In the meantime, here is a little something  that just popped into my head one day  a few months ago. Ultimately, these are all the thoughts and ponderings of the last several months, in prose.*~ 

Someone told me recently that my writing has a voice. What does that mean, exactly? Everything I write, everything I say, comes from a heart that is so full of passion, so full of feeling. . .I don’t know how to keep it in. I wish I could shrug things off and move on. Or never let them bother me to begin with. I wish I was one of those people who pressed forward, always motivated, always resourceful, always with hope and a vision for the future. But I’m not that way. Instead, there is a little girl inside of me with big dreams that remain unfulfilled. Is this because God can’t fulfill them? Of course not. But I’m not going to lie. I get scared sometimes, and I doubt. I’m human. Totally, plainly, heart-on-the-sleeve HUMAN. I am just as afraid, just as vulnerable, just as distrustful and wretched as the next. I won’t pretend to be super-spiritual or that I have a ton of faith or all the answers. Because I don’t. Is there light at the end of the tunnel? Probably. But I have to learn how to escape myself first. This brain that thinks way too much, this heart that throbs with every breath, with every sight, with every burning, painful feeling. To feel, to have passion--sometimes it’s a curse. The world isn't perfect. Why do I want perfection? I’m not perfect. Why do I strive for that which is humanly impossible? Yeah, as Christians we’re supposed to have a higher standard. I try. But still I fail. So you see, the problem is ME. I’m the one shooting arrows into the dark corners of my person. Each of us carry a cross. Each of us have a burden. Mine is compassion and a love that expands the walls of me and expects others to feel and act the same. That doesn't happen. People don’t feel. They don’t love. They don’t care. I have so much to give. So much I want to say. So much I’d like to scream out to this dark and naive world. I want to fill it will dancing color and light as soft and free as a summer breeze. I want to skip in fields made of gold. I want to use these small, helpless hands for big, earth shaking purpose. I want to pet each wounded animal, I want to hold each abandoned baby. I want to give, give, give everything, say everything, feel everything, love everything. Poetry should be the anthem of humanity. We should all have a theme-song. Every person, every place, every little moment that touches life and leaves an imprint. I want to write the soundtrack of life. Let it come alive with all the color, the vibrancy, the magic and beauty of LIVING. Shades of skin, bronze, creamy white, yellow-gold. Eyes, telling stories that shine from the soul and speak, speak with one look, one flicker of light that reveals the person within. I want to take them by the hand, these lost, wandering people, take them and make them a part of this mind, my mind, the one choking me with all it’s planning, all it’s undreamed dreams, all it’s swirling, confusion, noise, love, hate. One small, scared girl. One who knows there’s a way to impact. One who won’t ever stop believing that plans do happen. That the voice lives to tell a tale that will defy, surprise her enemies. One that believes there is a God who is crafting the innermost being of who she is. One who realizes that as a human, she is growing, she’ll never be perfect, but there is much she can do.

Take the world. Give it color. Bring it magic. Make it live. Take the mind. Use it’s passions. Let it escape. Fling it out where it can become a stamp of something great, even if that greatness is felt only by you. We aren't put into this world by chance. We aren't created to sit in darkness or wallow in confusion. This is where faith comes in. This is where TRUST becomes reality.

Take it from me,

The Voice inside my head.