Perhaps I’m someone, after all this time.
As I fell asleep with a book in my hands,
as I watched a train whir past,
as I listened to Yellow,
as I watched the rain pound relentlessly on the grass,
as I stared over the mountains,
I breathed it all in.
As the train conductor waved,
as the mist kissed my face,
as I felt the grass under my feet,
as I soaked in the lyrics,
as I read old notes,
as I heard stories of those dear,
I realized that I’m a part of it all.
Humility has graced me heavily, but with it insecurity has plagued me, making it difficult to discern between the two. I was torn in a constant battle of fleeing from pride and trying to find myself for an amount of time I can’t even begin to decipher.
Among these great mountains, among the smallest of flowers, I came to realize that I am someone. Aye, I’m but a mist, a vapor in this grand scheme of life, but I am that. Something lovely, separate from everyone else in His eyes.
For all this time I’ve strived to love God and love others, but how can you love others if you do not love yourself? How can you love Him if you hate how He created you? I spoke these words many times myself, but it took so long to actually grasp them.
Mark 12:30-31 Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”
Standing at the edge of a curtain of rain, everything poured in and I dissolved into it all. As the sunbeams stroked my face, my lungs burst with anticipation of a fresh breath, the horizon seems so far away.
This name of mine, what comes with it? Perhaps others will still know better than I know myself, but at least now I know there is something to it. I’m someone, in Him, there is something to who I am.
Though the paths we walk often interweave, we mustn’t forget the path which was made for only our own feet. Though we aren’t alone, there are things to which we must cling, even on our own.
We are but a piece, a fragment in time.
But we are indeed a piece, a fragment in all of time.