Stained Glass - My Means May Be My End

April 23, 2010

I’m worn out. I fear the world is too big for me and my dreams. Write, play, sleep. That is my pattern and will be until I breathe no more. As exciting as that may sound it has become a prison. A cage I locked myself in before swallowing the key. Show after show, some good most not, I wonder if there is an end. Maybe life is only means with the end only found in glory with The Lord. So much of me refuses to believe that though. Of course resting in the presence of our creator is the ultimate end but there must, has to, be a finish line here; contentment. The business man in me is jumping up and down frantically waiving his hands for people to notice him, people to see him, for people to understand he has something new and worthwhile to offer, while the artist within whispers to calm down, breathe, and embrace the now. He comforts me in the struggle reminding me that this is Life. Is this fight I feel present for a reason or is it a result of my impatience? Will I ever know? I can’t recall where I heard this lyric but lately it has resonated throughout my entire self; “I’m too young to feel this old”. If I am in fact “young” and I do feel “old”, how will I feel in ten years? In two? Even as I write this entry I know that it too will be lost among the mass of art, blogs, noise… life. Like my work this entry will only be seen by a few and I’m beginning to wonder if that is enough to keep going.