untitled document my life it seems

malcontent overflowing in wasteful days

people always say

your life is an empty, open book

write it.

and for a long time

i think i misunderstood the word empty

the word open.

i think i believed

that my life has not yet been lived

been loved

begun

i think that truly i thought i was nothing

of no importance

until the day i went to college

until the day i moved out

published my first book

made a difference that the whole world could see

moved to Africa to become a missionary

you see i thought

that the world only believed you were special

important
making a difference

if your name was known;

if you did all the right things.

well, i don’t do all the right things,

hardly ever do, actually.

and i never will.

so i guess that means that my life

will neither begin nor end

it will always be empty

empty pages filled with wishes and hopes and

apologies and trying harder and doing the best i can

and my book will always be open

open with possibilities and regrets and

windows where the light suprised me and the darkness tried to frighten me.

except today

i walked outside and felt the heat of the sun burn my skin with passion

as if it had nothing else to live for other than

reminding me of the fact that i

am

alive.

and every step every breath

has been a word, a thought written down and remembered

life, for me, began long ago

and continues now through

malcontent and staying in one place

and the excitement of leaving where you’ve always been

behind

the fear of leaving where you’ve always been

behind.

but a wise man once said

“coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving”

but never leaving is not always wrong not always the end not always empty not always open

and leaving is not always right not always the beginning not always full not always open

but loving

caring

wherever you are wherever you go

somehow these things

write more words sing more songs

make life lived

somehow, love

makes a way

even when where you are is a place you’ve always been,

when love enters there is change

and though your life feels

as though you are nothing

as though your book is too empty too open

when love enters

you begin to lose yourself

when you realize that to love another person

is to feel the sun burning your skin,

writing words onto your pages,

words where once i thought was only emptiness now filled

with wishes and hopes and

apologies and trying harder and doing the best i can

words open

open with possibilities and regrets and

windows where the light suprised me and the darkness tried to frighten me.

words and sunsets reminding me that the world is thriving

but waiting to be loved

reminding me that there are people

waiting to be loved

even if i never leave where i have always been

there are people waiting to be loved.

i walked outside today and remembered that i am loved.

untitled document my life it seems, but

the days are not wasted, they are burnt into my skin.

hoping against all hope that i will have the courage to love.

oh, that i should love as He first loved us.

then my story, i know, would be not empty,

but full.