Tuesday, September 30, 2014

112: a different good

Why not me? The quiet question my psyche asks in the temporary disturbance of freshly raked-over discontent.

Because your story is different, the reply comes.

I've found as a lover of the study of grammar and writing that I have to appreciate this answer. Even as my old dreams die and what I thought was good passes me by, ie. even though humanly I squirm at the plot assigned me, the love of writing in me acknowledges that not everyone gets to play the same part. A book needs different characters with different traits and different plot lines. My dream dies so the author's dream can live. My idea of good doesn't happen so another good can be my own.

To desire is human; to make petitions and requests is holy; to cry out to the Lord is comforting; to discontentedly envy others is sin.

I look at others and am not happy. I look at the path my own story has taken, and I am content to wait on His plot twist a little longer.

"He has been faithful. He will be again."

P.S. This school year is going amazingly well, and I wouldn't trade it with anyone!


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