I'm a wordle..

I've so often been driving my car wishing I could just pull over and post. Then I get in front of this screen and it all escapes me. All of my thoughtful and whitty sentences that give way to what is going on 'upstairs' and I can only come up with a word scramble. Every night as I lay in bed I can't help but have thoughts of the day's conclusions and wondering what the morrow brings, I only form half sentences before the next one begins. I'm left with a lack of closure to everything I've been experiencing. It's like I have a million things going at once and yet nothing at all. ambiguity fills my life, and just when I feel like I know the answers, there are none.

If the gloves are off (and they are), how do I know that what I'm fighting for is really worth all the fight? There are little moments that keep me strong, little parts of my everyday life that remind me that I truly desire what I'm striving for. It just feels right, everything about the few moments that I have to claim and own, are wonderful. Once they are long gone, I'm left with a longing, a sense of sadness, and a dream. None of which will be relieved for a while. A long while. If they are relieved at all. One day I'm going to wake up and it'll all be gone - or at least that's my fear. There is always a chance that I'll never have to worry about that, and continue to live in the unhealthy cycle that consumes my life.

Then instead of waking up and it all being gone, maybe I'll wake up and realize that I don't want it anymore. Can I really last as long as I think I can? If I do, am I wasting my time? Or is this something I'll look back on when I'm old and gray and think about how my life wouldn't have turned out the same if I hadn't. Here ambiguity rears it's ugly head again...

I'm fairly positive that I love it far too much to let it go. Is love a word that can be used? I've always been afraid of this word, and once I used it, it's haunted me ever since. Yet I love many different things in my life. friends. family. teaching. passion. love. I love.. love. I find what I always knew was out there but I've never experienced. That 'can't reach for the stars, over the fence, world series kinda thing'.

I've been reading.. A LOT. I realize that life isn't supposed to be figured out the way I've been searching for. It's about letting life happen, with the ability to trust and be strong in my faith to feel pain and struggle but hand it over to Him because I'm not as strong. It's hard for me to know how to follow sometimes, for I feel like there was a period in my life where I was fighting for the reins, to take the wheel and drive. I'm learning more and more that life is so much more fulfilling to sit back some, not to be passive and let it fly by, but allow all parts of life to happen. I know that I not supposed to know how my painting will turn out in the end, but that I just have to trust that it's not only beautiful in the making, but will be beautiful in the end.

Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.