Shattered Prison

“The thing that irks me most is this shattered prison, after all. I'm tired, tired of being enclosed here. I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there: not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart, but really with it, and in it.”

My whole being aches for home. I long for my family and friends, for a sense of belonging. I long for Marsh Creek, where I know of a spot that has perfect lighting. I want to feel the familiar winding of the back roads and failing light of fall.

My memory is short. Only two years ago I left for an adventure on the other side of the world. Already I have forgotten most of the lessons I learned there--and learning them again is painful.

For two years I have wanted nothing more than to be some place that desperately needed Love. Every single person deserves unconditional love and I wanted to give all I had. I never knew that being a servant of Love could be so lonely. I should have prayed for strength while I was praying for wisdom.

The best part of being broken is that you are never quite the same after you are put back together--the healers always leave a mark. So now the mortar that holds me together is laced with Jason, and my family, and God. Wonderfully, they are all much more beautiful than I am. Having wounds healed by their patients and love has let me stunningly scarred.

I don't know what to say next or where to go, but I know that if every single one of us loved those on the fringe our world would be a much, much more beautiful place.