It's amazing to me that a woman like me could feel so full and so empty at the same time. I am so full of desire but so empty of results. I feel like I'm full of the abstract and surrounded by the echo of what wants to be tangible but isn't. Yet.
I have so many thoughts and dreams, still, at my age. You would think I would be winding down and yet, no, I am still dreaming. I don't know if I'm just a dreamer, someone who spins beautiful webs in the upper corners of my heart but doesn't know how to expose them to the world. I don't want to just dream. I want to do. I want to be. I long to fill my life up and evict the emptiness.
My life is so full. I am so busy. But the busy-ness doesn't equal full-ness. And the emptiness yawns and brings me back in.
I want to be so full of Christ that I can't help, just by my life, but to have Him pour out of me into the world and into everyone I meet, especially those I have such impact on- and those I cherish the most.
I'm so busy. And so tired. And so full. So why do I sometimes feel so depleted? So utterly spent. Not empty, as without hope, but empty, as a cavern full of possibilities yet unrealized...