honesty tinged with a ring of jealous overtones.

>> 12.16.2010



I am not a writer.

The words that flow from these fingertips are dripping with rust and overcome with the labor that it took to produce them.

I am not a writer.

I am just a girl wishing that she could be more in this life.

I am a woman who is about to be a mother, who is wondering why God chose her for ordinariness, rather than greatness.

I am a human being, who feels short-changed, as though they were judged to not be quite worthy of what they could have had.

What makes greatness great, and what makes every day?

Why do we strive to be recognized?

Why is there a burning in my desire to be known for more than this, but at the end of the day still finds me settling for being known by my family?

What does it mean, and where does the “more” go?

“If I have a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the explanation is: 
I was made for another world.”


--C.S. Lewis

2 thoughts:

jessicahilgenberg December 16, 2010 at 9:38 AM  

I wish you saw yourself the way I do..... because you are anything but ordinary. :)But I understand what you are saying... and I wonder if God allows us to feel that because than we are always striving for more and remember that we are made for more than this world....

raychel irene December 16, 2010 at 9:56 AM  

Just wanted you to know that i understand this. I've been there, a lot.

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