The human story is about being lost and being found. Being loved and being left. Sometimes I want to rail at the world because I know... countless people have been through the mirage and the murk; all have wondered if they will ever find their way. Each believes their story is unique. But we all actually just repeat history. We all just repeat ourselves.
All the more I wonder, what a very patient God we have. To hear the same whining and mourning all over the planet from different hurting hearts, it must take some colossal strength. Doesn't He get tired of it?
And me, staring at the ceiling, trying to accept that the floundering feeling inside me, the lost little girl, is a normal thing. Countless people have been through worse, and I have no cause for complaint. I ought not to think too much. I spend too much time staring into empty spaces. I don't know if this is a good thing anymore.
But I wouldn't be myself if I didn't wonder.