Inspiration.

Sometimes, actually all times, I wish I was more eloquent. I can never say what I want to say. It never comes out how I plan or express what I'm feeling. Even with so many words in my vocabulary, sometimes I can't find the right ones to use. How inadequate this mouth of mine is.

Sometimes I wish I was a man of more principle. I fear that my life is a failure and not a testimony of how I see things and how I want to explain things. It's the inconsistencies of this human condition which fail to flesh out who I want to be. All that remains is a skeleton.

I once made a list, it was a list of all the things I wanted to do before I died. I still have that list. I scratched everything off and replaced it with one line. Reflect the love tha God has shown me.

I find it so hard to do that these days. In Mark we were studying about how the pharisees are so caught on religious ritual to miss the whole point of it all. Have I myself committed that same crime in how I reflect this love? Am I too caught up in everything in it's own time and not spontaneous enough?

Yet I feel ingrained in my very being that things happen at the right time and in the right manner. If I had not heard the right sermon at the right time I did, it would have been another in one ear out the other. End story.

Maybe it's just me. I was always a late bloomer. Should I have stuck to my guns, or let pressure tell me otherwise? Why does life have no right answer? Only hard decisions.