Inconsistency killed the cat.
Cats supposedly have nine lives, so that’s
an inconsistent amount of consistency.
I started writing blogs about 1 year and 7
months ago. I got my Indian Giver wish. I have moved back to my hometown.
I turned my back on the south, as it
seemed it turn its back on me. I am living with my family, I have been to my
sisters birthday party and still have a car and a new job. How wonderful.
Wonderful.
Wonderful? Restless.
How restless I still am. As though my
craving for ‘new’ and ‘more’ will never be satisfied, because I find discontentment.
I came back, I went to dance, I did
adopt-a-block and still couldn't reach that high.
I go to a new church now, made a
whole new group of friends and in the sweet moments I feel purposeful.
But I am lacking. I am overwhelmed
with ‘what-could-have-been’s and scared about the things I wasn’t or maybe won’t
ever be.
Silly to think that I have everything
I need. But I want more.
I want to do big things. I want to go far places.
I want to do big things. I want to go far places.
I even had a goal when I was younger
to meet everyone in the world. I like the impossible.
So does fear.
When I daydream I imagine everything
I could do if fear wasn't there. And regret was dead.
God continues to be good. His will
continues to prevail and no matter what, my dreams aren't to big for Him.
Still hopeful, in case you wanted to know.
This is Brit Mo on the go.
