And The New Year Awaits

I stand on the verge of a new year.

It extends from where I stand in a chaotic array of opportunity and laughter and tears and pain and confusion and love and forgiveness.

There are days of great triumph, days where I feel like life is worth living, and days where hope seems to be playing hide-and-seek and tears come easier than smiles.

There are mountains to climb, and valleys to walk through.

There is music in the background, the soundtrack of my life flavoring the great expanse of past, present, and future.

I look to the new year with great expectation, knowing that everything that happens is a small puzzle piece in the story my Maker is writing for me.

The Author of adventure waits, to take you by the hand.... (Made For More, Ginny Owens)

Departure

The mountain is behind us

The tracks are before

Only a few minutes left

Before you walk through the door

And the whistle blows...

And a last goodbye

A last wave

And you must fly

The stars are moving

The train is still

The train is leaving

And the stars fill

The train is almost gone

The moon has set

The smoke is far off

And the night almost spent

Then a melody-

A song begins

A string of notes

Carried by the wind

It flows over us

It fills the sky

It is quiet but clear

And it whispers goodbye

But it tells us that soon

Another day will come

Sooner than we think

And you will be home

Life

 

This feeling- bittersweet. A remembering. A sweet knowing that I will make many more such memories. And then a weariness. A weariness of the mountain of life that I have to climb. And then expectation. This is life. Beautiful. Bittersweet. Filled with love, filled with beauty. Filled with people who love me...filled with a blue sky that turns into black darkness sprinkled with diamonds in the distance. The trees swaying a melody outside in the autumn breeze. The light in a window of a place I am soon to go. The expectation of living life to the fullest, loving the people around me. The daintiness of a flower held carefully in the palm of my hand, the purple petals brushing the silver of my promise ring that will someday hold more than a promise. A song in the distance hinting of adventure and peace and chaos- glorious chaos. Life. That intangible pressing forward of the heart, a pressing forward, my footsteps tracing the thoughts of my heart. The thoughts of my heart- traced by the footsteps of my life. Life.