Molding Clay....

Life is so indefinite. I try to express it, to articulate its meanings and happenings, but none of it makes much sense. It's all jumbled up like puzzle pieces when you first begin to lay out the edges.

Its like a massive collage of my own mental images. I see pictures-with their great worth in words-cut out and juxtaposed alongside others of equal worth but each carry a weight of their own in separate emotions and worlds. Impressions and feelings from different arenas of my life converging in my body and in my mind.

I see there are different compartments of my life: spiritual, emotional, relational, physical, even geographical. Yet now I see these all leak into each other, like colors on a page, when a child doesn't know how to color inside the lines of his coloring book. Or even like my first sad attempt at water painting.

But what am I saying? it's all rubbish, a fool's ramblings. I couldn't explain it. not here. not in a thousand words could I give voice to all the murmurings in my heart. Nor would I want to. I've realized I'm too loose... too free with my emotions. I think its youth. I think that when one gets a little bit more sense in their head, they learn to control their emotional outflow.

I'm a burden on people.

I am.

It's true. There've been times when I've been told as much. And I've come to realize this truth. I'm changing though. I'm constantly changing-like the landscape of the desert dunes. Morphing, Growing, and Molding into something.... something good [i hope]

The clearest description of it is that I'm learning. I'm learning how to be a better me. To be the me that God wants me to be. I can feel it. I can sense the change that is underway in my life. I can feel that now is a significant point in the timeline of my lifetime. I dont know how or why or what. I just feel aware. Aware that God is doing something. and that's encouraging.

I still feel unsure. Heck, I don't know if I'll ever be sure-of anything! but it doesn't matter. I'm done with trying to be sure about my life, wasting time not moving onward, afraid of what will become of me if i make a mistake, or make the wrong choice. It doesn't matter. As long as I'm following God, I think He's already promised that the rest comes after that primary point. I'm done with the worrying and with the cynicism.

So that's it. I sit, spinning on the Potter's table, all wet and moldable, my form as yet undefinable. My purpose is as yet to be discovered, but I press onward doing as best as I know how-and He teaches me.

This next year of my life excites me. I am ready for it. I'm ready for the joy and the frustration that life brings-bring it on.