Misunderstood Meanderings
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I want to be blanketed by an endless canopy of stars, enveloped by the wisdom of the universe and its ever-swirling galaxies. I want to spend a sleepless night discovering and rediscovering constellations and the man in the moon. I want to abandon the world and its trivial, superficial cares and just be. Life isn't perfect; it wasn't meant to be. Life is a collection of the ups and downs, a heartbeat pattern. The low times prove that you're alive. It is the flatline that is worrisome. The stars are billions of years old. They have watched us spin around in circles, always revolving around the sun. They have seen wars, love, hate, peace. They have witnessed the human race progress, digress, and stand still--it is in those still moments, surrounded by the tranquility of silence and stars, that we realize life is more than us. That we grow outside of ourselves. It is then when we become inspired. The night sky is a dark canvas of knowledge speckled with the experiences and light of the stars. So connect the dots. What is it that you see?
It's true that everybody tries to put their best foot forward. We try to show the best parts of ourselves by nature. We don't want people to know that we are human make mistakes. We're guarded, hiding the undesirable traits and facts about ourselves. But I think the most beautiful parts of us are the scars, the pains, the dark places. In all reality, it is these things that define who we are, not the flawless masks we present to society. It's the scars that tell the stories. The dark times and the pains we've endured are, in essence, the definition of us. They prove that we are growing and learning; they show that we can heal. You never know who somebody is until you have shared who you are with them. Very choice people know the trials you're enduring and it is them who are the closest to you. We've been injured, we have scars. And we hide them from the world, convincing others that we are a flurry of wonder when all the while we are really just trying to prove to ourselves that we are worth it. We are harsh on our choices and personalities and flaws. We must learn to love the scars and the change we've encountered. And we have to love even the scary parts of others because we are all survivors, everyday. And how will somebody love all of us if we condemn some parts of them? We make mistakes, but when we learn from them they can flourish into something beautiful.
Being alone is empowering; the stillness of the air allows peace of thought and deep personal understanding. It fills the crevices of our broken soul with a painfully soothing remedy: time. But you can't live alone forever. You, at one point or another, have to depend on somebody else for survival. No matter how self-sufficient we think we have become, we owe the world we have to our God who gave us life. He blesses and prospers us in ways we cannot fully recognize. For are we not all beggars? He carries us through those trials we fear we cannot surpass and, in order to strengthen us, he even pushes us a little farther than we are stubbornly willing to go. No matter how we may try to repay our Father in heaven for the blessings he bestows upon us, he turns around and blesses us again tenfold. We are forever indebted to him. If we, imperfect beggars before the mighty God, can become heirs to his kingdom, why shouldn't somebody else? It's time for the hopeful message of the gospel to reach those who may feel frozen in time and all alone. I'm here to tell you that you are never alone and Christ is silently enduring every pain, sorrow, and sickness that befalls you upon this lonely journey on earth, whether you realize it or not. You are important. You are more important than you realize.
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