Sometimes I'd like just to ask her what honest words she can't afford to say

I feel very fortunate lately to recognize the fact that I seem to be growing into myself. It's not as though I'm "finding" myself, or that I've finally grown up, but I've reached a point where I look back at the past 5 or so years, and have no regrets. I no longer feel like I'm trying to successfully maneuver a route away from the choices I've made or the people I've hurt. I had a really incredible talk with an old, cherished friend recently that really helped me realize that. Nothing was incredible about the talk itself, aside from the fact that it happened. For the first time, I looked objectively at the last year or so before I moved to the Okanagan, at some of the decisions I made, or people I impacted, in both positive and negative ways. I have somehow, by some beautiful miracle, been able to trace the path of my life, and pinpoint why I did some of the things I did in the past, and what has lead to me growing beyond that into the person I am now. The thing is, I'm not entirely sure who I am now. My life feels like a gigantic puddle of who I was, who I am and who I want to be. I'm slowly picking through the debris of the last 23 years and having to decide what the ultimate conclusion will be... not now, or even years from now. But I know that this is the time when I start working toward the person I wish to be, and the impact I want to make. Now is the time when I stop analyzing the past and start building a future on God's will for my life. I'm terrified and nervous and overwhelmed... but I'm also excited. Above all, I know that everything that has happened to me or happened as result of myself, both the good and the very bad, has had an affect on where I'm going and who I am, whoever that is. I'm thankful for those experiences now. I know now that they were just growing pains, and the result feels very worthwhile.

I miss you
and I'm scared I don't really remember you anymore.
I live my life with people who never knew you, and the only real perspective I have is my own now. I have the same 10 memories that I feel I replay over and over, and I worry that those don't make up a fair representation of who you are.
I feel like it's only getting harder without you, and as more time passes, my understanding of my life and of you becomes more and more skewed. I have all these ideas of what a family is supposed to be like, and what it means to be raised and grow up and celebrate and love, but I feel like my experiences with all those things began to end when you left, and they don't fit with who I am anymore. It's like all my memories aren't mine, but are just a story I've heard so many times. I feel fragmented and missing all the time, and I don't know where I fit anymore.
I feel like I've lost you.

Philia

Sometimes, I consider love.
It's probably one of the most over-used, under-sincere words in the english language. I had a pastor who once compared the love for his wife to his love for fried chicken.. I know that in Greek, there are actually many different words which all mean love.Let's see how much I remember.
Agape is the most widely known. That is the self-sacrificing, "true" love. The type of love Jesus had for us when he sacrificed himself to atone for our sins. It is the love described in the "love" chapter of the bible; 1 Corinthians 13.
Eros is the love of passion. I know that Plato once said eros 'helps the soul recall knowledge of beauty', and 'contributes to an understanding of spiritual truth.'
Philia is the love of friendship, a virtuous love. It includes loyalty to friends, family, and community, and requires virtue, equality and familiarity.
Storge is the lesser-known love, and means "affection" in Greek. It's used to describe the feeling one has toward family members. It can also be used in situations of "loving the one who hurts you"
I sincerely wish we had this many words to describe love in English, because I feel the word has become a cliche. I had to spend time going over my testimony this past week, and it got me thinking about how much my mom told me she loved me growing up, and how much I tell the people in my life that I love them. No matter how much I do, I never feel like it is enough.
I think of Philia love, and how much of that I see displayed every day in my life. Clint speaks so often of community, to such a point that I begin to wonder if our community is all that it could be. But when I reflect on the past year of my life, and even the past couple days, all I see is love and community. That's what sticks out to me. Jen bringing me ginger ale when I had the flu, or Clint bringing food to the MacBain's when Carol's dad passed away, or everyone supporting the Thompson's after Aiden was born.
I think of our cellgroup, and how we're always praying for those with us and who cannot make it, and the overwhelming amount of love they showed me last night.
Maybe love is overused and undersincere, but I hope everyone in pathways finds comfort in the fact that it is never under-represented or under-appreciated.



If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.
When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.
We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.
1 Corinthians 13 The Message

Saints of Servitude

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace
where there is hatred, let me sow love
where there is injury, pardon
where there is doubt, faith
where there is despair, hope
where there is darkness, light
where there is sadness, joy
Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted
to understand, than to be understood
to love, than to be loved.
For it is by giving that one receives.
It is by forgiving that one is forgiven.
And it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Oh the glory that the Lord has made, and the complications you could do without

I am feeling a great amount of heartbreak for so many reasons that I can't really find the words for.
It's a painful thing; not having the necessary words.
Sometimes I wish I could cry.
It's like my tear ducts are always too proud.
Or maybe, in this case, that would make it too real.

"I read about how you touched them and they were healed.
Or even if someone just touched your cloak they were forever changed;
You let a broken women bathe your feet in her tears
And you washed your best friend’s feet
I am just wondering though, did you ever just hug people
I mean, I know that it is a silly question and all; I am sure you would have why wouldn’t you've?
But it's one of those things that was never mentioned that got me thinking about it
And how whenever there was a touch from you sins were forgiven and sickness fell
I think I’m caught up in my sins, and last time I checked all my body parts were properly working; nothing special here.
I am just a kid with a heavy heart these passing sunrises and sunsets.
I don’t think our encounter would have ended up in the gospels or anything
Because all I really need is a hug
That is okay for me to imagine, right
That’s not going to be conflicting with any sort of theology, is it
Okay good. Then hug me.
But not one of these sideways one arm around the neck type hugs
Or the ghetto right hand clasp fists elbows to chest pat pat on the back back
Or you put your right arm over my right arm and I put my left arm over your left arm and we make this weird sort of diagonal thing
No, none of those.
BEAR HUG ME MAN
Take your old school carpenter arms and throw them over my upper body leaving my arms dangling underneath yours somewhere and I can barely move them because you're squeezing me so hard.
But don’t pick me up and make my back pop because I hate it when people do that.
And hold me, hold me here in your arms until I start to cry
because I WANT TO CRY
But I just can’t seem to do it on my own
I have been teary eyed once recently but not even enough for a drip down my cheek
Theres just hurt in my soul that needs to be purged
So hold me in this hugging pose
Until the pain is flowing from my eyes and nose "

Normal is the watchword

I really appreciate Catherine Chalk.
I had the terrific opportunity to spend a significant amount of time with her today sitting on a couch talking, and it was such a blessing. I truly love our ability to be honest and lay everything out on the table right off the bat. I've realized recently that honesty is something I wholly admire in a person. I've had a lot of uncertainties in my life, and although I can appreciate the fact that not everything is black and white or cut and dry, I will take any opportunity to dispel the gray areas. During my conversation with her I also found myself reawakening a certain sense of self that I seem to be missing lately.
I love camp, but I feel like a floater here. Things that seemed so trivial before, take a greater importance in my life, and I spend a lot less time being conscious of what I have and my place in my own story.
I'm not sure if this actually makes any sense... but I'm just going to keep trucking along...

When I'm at home, despite whether I'm having a bad day or not, my purpose is clear, and I feel so solid and grounded. And I do spend a lot of time feeling that way here, don't get me wrong, camp has done amazing things for me; in the past and in these last few weeks. But I think different parts of me tend to be highlighted when I'm in either place.
I remember before I left for camp, I desperately needed a break. I felt so strained, and coming here was such a blessing. I could feel different things instantly falling into place, and started to wonder if Vernon was really where I was meant to be.
In the last little while, though, I realized that there are parts of myself, parts that I have felt growing and maturing and really adding to my character, that tend to fall away while I'm here.
I am apprehensive about returning home in 2 weeks, but at the same time, it feels right and feels like time. There is so much left to experience there, and so many people I feel at a loss without.
It's bizarre to think that this time last year, those people weren't even on my radar. I've always liked and admired Nicole, but I never considered she'd become my very best friend and confidante. I didn't even know Jen last year, and now I can't imagine my life without her. The MacBain's are like family to me, and I miss holding Ethan, Tenaya, Nathan, Ben and Lucas in my arms when I'm away. It physically aches a little to think that Janelle isn't up to date on my ENTIRE life, and I miss walking into work and instantly being cheered by Andre's smile.
I'm so grateful for the parts everyone has played in my life this past year, and I'm very excited for the next year.
I suppose that's all.
Namaste.

A glass can only spill what it contains

So I have made the conscious decision to start blogging again. I miss writing in a very achy way, and I should probably get back into practice before classes start up.
I'm not sure how I feel about life these days. I've been having a lot of D&M's (Deep and Meaningful) with Caitlyn recently, because I've been feeling like I'm losing sight of myself.
I've been priding myself over the past few months on how self-aware I seemed to be getting, but now I'm just not so sure. I've been through a lot of really intense stuff in my short life, and yet it seems to me that it's the more inconsequential stuff that appears to be throwing my life into a tailspin lately. Maybe it is that realization that has me so on edge.
Regardless, my heart has been feeling pretty strained lately. It's being stretched and squeezed to it's limits, and although I am aware that it's a muscle to be worked, it's not something I enjoy all that much. I was pouring it all out to Caitlyn earlier this evening about the things I feel versus the things I know to be true. That although I feel utterly heartbroken all the time, I know that healing is taking place in direct correlation, and despite my extreme emotional highs and lows, I am completely aware of where I am and what I need/am ready for regardless of how I feel.
It's funny, I had a moment after unleashing this wave of emotion where I felt completely vulnerable and embarrassed of everything I had told her, and was sure she was going to write me off as being a complete basketcase, but instead, she told me how impressed she was with how aware I was of my own needs and emotional boundaries.
It seems ridiculous now that I would ever think Caitlyn would think I was a basketcase; she's such a steadfast best friend, and she sees all the beauty and maturity in me that I fail to ever recognize on my own.
I feel lately like I have to work to constantly remind myself that I am safe and taken care of, and despite many possible pitfalls, I have so many terrific things going for me.
I thank God every day for Caitlyn, and her unwavering ability to make me see that.

This somehow became a lovenote to her, so I'll continue my emotional downfall later on.
Namaste.

ps. I've started listening to mewithoutYou a lot while writing; it is brilliant and therapeutic. Try it sometime.

Maybe our stars are unanimously tired

I don't want to hurt anymore.
I can't.
You mean more to me than anyone I have ever met.
I would do anything for you, and that scares me, because I'm not entirely sure you've done enough to deserve that.
You're so good, and so kind, and yet somewhere along the line, that ended between us.
I've been holding out for a sign that this isn't just useless progress, and I don't see it, despite all the ways I try to make myself believe there's something there. Something that isn't pain.
I love you, and I want to be in your life so badly, but I also know that, at least right now, you being in mine is just causing a lot of damage.
So I'm letting go.
It hurts so much more than I could have ever imagined.
But I need to do this.
I need to let you go.

Beyond Words

And I'll still love you
Beyond what words can say
I'll take your every suffering moment
And bring a better day
I'll still love you
More then what I hope to be
Let me wrap my arms around you
Let me take your breath away

Before the gleam of your taillights fading East to find yourself a better life

I haven't really felt like writing lately. Last night I was telling Jen about how, growing up, my mom always talked about the day when I would become a famous author, and I would sign it "Mahala Sarah" and make the dedication out to my mom, who taught me everything I know. I would usually just roll my eyes when she floated off into this fantasy world of hers, but it's a dream I still keep tucked away. I seem to be doing that a lot. Tucking things away. Dreams, hopes, ambitions, little prayers.. and I don't think it's what God wants for me. When I was a little girl, I had this picture in my mind of what my life would look like when I was 20 years old. I was talking to Clint yesterday about how, "whenever we start something new, there's always a certain expectation... and then there's reality." They rarely match up perfectly.

So does that mean that we should get rid of expectation entirely. Be satisfied with whatever we can get?
I think this post stopped being about life goals somewhere along the way.
But I may as well continue.... I'm starting to think that that's not good enough for me. I deserve more than "the best I can get. "

The glove compartment isn't accurately named, and everybody knows it - so I'm proposing a swift orderly change.

Cause behind it's door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm, and all I find are souvenirs from better times.

Chill

You stand still in the cold, paralyzed in your anguish, transfixed
By each swirling snowflake, which remind you every
Year without fail of the off-white hospital room and how you thought
That falling snowflakes were a lot like a crumbling tower.
And now you know without a moments hesitation that you’re the tower which
Resembles now, more than anything, the snow in February,
You know the kind, half-melted, and off-colored from months of
Shoe-soles and snow-shovels to the face.

And the chill, it creeps through the deep fissures
In your armor and that’s all it takes, you never think to take heed
Bat an eyelash - you stay peacefully inattentive, distracted by delirium
Not a single tremor until the fateful day it reaches the thick
Of your bones and by then, what can you do
But sit in careful deliberate silence, for fear the next insubstantial upset might crash
Your world to pieces and through the cracks will spill
Sorrow and you’re too focused on staying alive and breathing to realize that
You’re already deceased and buried in your silence and your stillness.

Mahala Sarah Woodford

Immortalized

Ellen-Marie Woodford (nee Bausman)

Green Eyes

MYSTERY Hair

4'10.5

Nail biter

Neat freak

Loves baking cookies/brownies

Hates winter and the color yellow

Loves flowers and the color green

Favorite animal - monkey

Terrible dancer

Always singing

Loves to talk and be with people

Infectious laugh

Can't drive standard

Always smells like lavender

Can make anything rhyme

Always has a story to tell

Hand talker

Major fan of the eskimo kiss

Hates being called "Ellie"

Has a "preterition's" nose

Maker of the best french toast in the continent

5 years.

How can it be 5 years already?

That's a quarter of my life.

Soon, the rest is going to fly by... by the time I'm 31, you'll have been dead for more of my life than you were here with me.

What if soon it's like you never existed at all?

How can it be that you have not been a part of my life for 5 years, and yet you're everything in me.

Heartbreak Warfare

So I'm really joyful these days. Things are going very well. I feel very grounded in my faith, and I love gaining more and more knowledge about my creator every day. It's such a blessing!

I've made some really great friends, I really like my job, and I concretely believe that Marion Houlbrook is the greatest woman alive. She's so sweet and hilarious and compassionate, and I feel like I can talk to her about anything. I am so glad that I've gotten to know her. Also, she knows all the words to "Walk Like An Egyptian".

This next month or so is going to be crazy. On top of work, classes and cell groups, next weekend, I'm going down to Vancouver for the Canadian Youth Workers Convention. The weekend after that is the CHT Banquet in Burnaby, which I'm very excited about. I miss all my friends so much, and it will be great to see everyone again... especially Chelle. She and the Nanaimo youth are staying in a hotel and I have already dibs'd a room with her. (Pathways doesn't really have a strong youth component... yet... so I'm going down as an independent). The weekend AFTER that I'm going to be helping Nicole with the annual christmas toy drive, and shortly after that I'll be back down to Burnaby for Christmas with the fam.

It's a lot of traveling, but I am SO excited for the impending weeks. It's going to be grand. Lately, I've just been working and spending time with the community around me. This weekend we had a Christmas Party for the women of Pathways, and it was a lot of fun. Yesterday I hung around playing videogames with Joel, and last night, Clint, Joel and I did a prayer walk around the downtown - it was freezing, but really great. This weekend is going to be spent babysitting and celebrating Joel's 24th Birthday! ....basically a senior citizen.

But I have to be getting to work, so I'll cut this short.

Grace!

When all the flames came rushing, well, you know that it was beautiful.

I hate being that person. I hate that piece of me. That in a second I go from someone I like to someone who I don't really recognize. Because I don't identify that way, that's not the person I am, but it is a perfect shadow of my insecuritiy... I don't need you to validate myself, but I do it anyway. It's stopping now.

Okay, now with that out of the way.

It's November... how did that happen? I guess I've been in Vernon awhile now. I like it a lot, not that I've seen much of it. Right now I'm stuck at home with a flu, and outside of that there's work and homework and other fun stuff. But the people are great, and my job is excellent, and I really love it.

God works in incredible ways, and I'm seeing that so clearly here.

Hallelujah.

Back to bed pour moi.

Arrivederci

Don't drop your arms; I'll guard your heart

So today was my first full day in Vernon. So far it's looking pretty great. I had the opportunity to hang out with Ethan and Tenaya (Clint's kids) and they really are incredible. Marion is such a kind and wonderful person and I'm really excited to get to know her more. I got to see the foodbank and thrift stores, and tonight Clint took me on a tour of the downtown area. It's strange to think of how every city is so different, and yet they all have so many similarities. All the barren places have the same sort of spirit surrounding them. Maybe it's just some crazy wave of discernment. I'm definitely stoked to get more of a feel for the town. We also took a look around the 24/7 Prayer room, which has been pretty much abandoned for the past few years, which is really heartbreaking. It's really an eerily breathtaking place, and I'm really praying for it to get started up again.

There's a lot more on my mind, spirit and heart, but I'm also very exhausted, and I've got some reading to get caught up on.

GRACE

You're my beloved, lover I'm yours; Death shall not part us, it's you I died for

When I was a kid, I'd come and stay in Vancouver with my mainland relatives for the entire Summer. During one Summer, I remember marching up to my Oma with purpose and saying, "Oma. You're not allowed to die. Never." She pulled me up into her lap and told me that everyone had to go when God called them, and I didn't have to be sad, because it meant that He had a very important job for them to do in Heaven with Him. I digested what she had told me and responded with, "Yeah, but you're needed here. So you're not going to go until I tell Him it's okay." I don't remember, but I think the conversation sort of ended at that point. A few weeks later, back at home, I relayed the conversation back to my mom. I asked her if she was going to stick around like Oma. I remember cuddling up with her on the couch and having her whisper into my hair that no matter what happened, she would never leave me. At the time, I took this as an iron-clad reassurance that I'd have my mommy around forever. A few years later, my mom was on bed rest after a particularly lengthy hospital visit. My Oma was visiting from Vancouver, and I had chosen, at that moment, to take out my confusion and frustration on the world by shouting and refusing to clean my room. For the first time in my entire life, my Oma yelled at me. She scolding me, how dare I be so selfish when my mom was in such pain. Slowly, her shouting became sobbing, and she collapsed on my bedroom floor wondering aloud how God could do this to my mother, pleading about how it wasn't right for a child to die before their mother. She kept repeating, "It's just not right", and I stood there, staring, bewildered. Not only because I was seeing her vulnerable for the first time, but because the words tumbling from her trembling lips didn't make sense to me. My mom wasn't dying. She had promised. She had made a solemn oath to my hair years prior that she would never leave me. Even at 14, knowing that bad things happen, already jaded and knowing that people are flawed and pain is a reality, I still held on to that promise deep in my heart. After she passed away, my heart changed. I grew up and grew into the understanding that when she held me that night and promised to be at my side forever, she meant it with everything inside of her. Because my mom is always with me, everywhere I go. She is that promise in my heart.

I need your strong hands to carry me; Take me, break me, set me free

Alrighty. So I am presently having a chat with an old friend of mine. Cordell is pretty much one of the first people I think of when I think of spiritual giants. Now, the last time I saw Cordell, he was 15 or so... and not the biggest kid in the world (not that I'm one to talk) but his great faith has always astounded me. When I first met him, a little over 2 years ago, in XLR8, nobody really knew much about him. But I learned really quickly that I had met a guy who would be doing some incredible things for the kingdom of God in his lifetime. He was like a walking prophesy. So talking to him lately has been a real blessing. Seeing how much he's grown in the past 2 years (spiritually, emotionally, physically... pretty sure he towers WAY over me now!), and, in comparison, how I've grown.
Anyway, the point of this post was not to talk about how awesome Cordell is... it's about what he and I were discussing. The call for something more. The thought that many of us are sleepwalking. We need a rude awakening. We need some sort of spiritual ice water to get us out of our lulls and do something for the kingdom of God, whatever that looks like in each of our lives. This weekend, for those of us going to SYC, it's a huge opportunity to wake up and smell the redemption. And for those of you who cannot make it (or, aren't Salvo and have no idea what the heck I'm talking about), why not make this weekend an opportunity regardless. You don't need a oceanside camp full of 200 screaming teenagers to do it. But I think it's time we woke up.

ps. Stoked to hang out with you this weekend, Cordell. Now get to bed!

These Ties That Bind Are So Pedestrian

Please attempt a critique. Not sure what I think of it as of yet.

Your eyes are blue, deep blue, like the ocean after a storm

And they shine, an incandescent glow, like the lighthouse, directing great ships home

Well, if you are the ocean, can I be your waves?

And if you are the lighthouse, am I the one that you save?

Because I've been stranded, abandoned, confined here for too long

And the only thing that gets me through is the glimmer, the gleam; your glow

The steady beat of your heart scanning the water; calm and slow

The assurance in each breaker, as the rush, it pulls me deeper.

And all the while, not breaking stride, or casting your eyes

Away from mine, and for that one euphoric moment I

Can feel your love resounding, and for only that split second I

Forget that I am drowning.

And they are blue, deep blue, just like the waves that pull me under

and I can barely catch my breath, and perhaps forget to struggle

Because while I sink beneath the billows and fight through tangled reed

I finally start to realize, you're merely brick and salty sea

And yet for that last eternal second, I can't bear to look abroad

And instead, gaze at your figure, while your lighthouse beams glow on.

God of strength, our weakness shows

Tonight in bible study we were discussing Thirst.

That desire, that deep longing for something more.

How life is this giant search for something of value, though many of us are not sure quite what it is or where to find it. We questioned how exactly we're supposed to recognize the desire if it's always been there. If we were always hungry or thirsty, would we recognize that we need to eat or drink, or do we only recognize it because we know what it's like to have that need satisfied.

I once read a book that presented the idea that we are all seeking out a relationship with God. Christian or not, our soul is constantly pulling us, tugging at our heartstrings, giving us that thirsty feeling. In fact, the Bible says, in Ecclesiasties, that God has set eternity in the hearts of men. Once, centuries ago, we were intimately connected with God. When God created Adam and Eve, he walked with them. Does anyone else find that profound? God walked with Adam and Eve in the garden. They shared a close bond with their God. He was so personified, so present in their lives. However, once sin entered into Adam and Eve's life, it created a barrier between them and God. And it only seemed to worsen with time. Nowadays, God is basically a foreign idea to the majority of the modern world. Once, we walked with God, and now, we merely thirst.

Also discussed tonight was the idea that a lot of people are hesitant to search. Maybe they had a bad experience with Christians in the past, maybe something happened that placed bitterness and resentment in the heart towards God. Maybe they're just afraid to take that leap. I remember being like that. My mom had just died, and it seemed that everywhere I turned, someone was telling me to pray. I didn't understand how a God who loved me would kill off my mother, who was the only real thing holding her delicate family together. My entire world was crashing around me, and I felt completely isolated and alone. And it was all God's fault.

When I tell people my testimony, and how I got saved, I usually leave out the part about how I started that night feeling pretty cynical. It had been exactly one year since my mom had died, and in that time, I had created this intricate shell of anger and emptiness and shame. I remember spending nights cutting, because, although it never helped me forget, it stopped me from thinking clearly enough to be able sort through all my feelings. Because although I was angry and shameful and completely miserable, I felt safe that way. I had fallen into a rhythm, and anything else scared me.

The night I got saved was one of the scariest of my life. Not because I was alone, but because I wasn't. Because I was surrounded by people who cared about me. Because for the first time, I didn't feel completely empty. Because surrounded by people who loved me, and talking to God, I couldn't hide anymore. Hide the fact that I needed a change, needed to face myself and my fears, or I was going to disappear.

It was terrifying, and sometimes it still is. But I wouldn't trade anything in the world for this fear, because nothing was worse than that emptiness.

I don't expect many people to take my word for it, but it's all I really have.

I'm not a great philosopher, I haven't devoured millions of ancient texts.

But come on. let's look at this logically.

C.S Lewis once said "Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger; well there is such a thing as food; a duckling wants to swim; well there is such a thing as water. If I find myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."

Basically, If you can't seem to find anything to satisfy your deepest earthly desire, maybe it's not a earthly desire after all.

On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.

John 7:37