My Lord, what shall I do? Within the turbulence of my mind I come up with schemes and ideas: many half-formed, too many to do at once, and many already have been done by others (I am beginning to discover). I have no wish to re-invent the wheel, as the saying goes. But that really is not that I am asking about. What can I do to make it up to You? You gave me life, but for its greater portion, I shat it all away. No polite term to cover what I did with those years. I remember all throughout my teens, I was waiting for something extraordinary to happen — to me, to the world. Something has; something has got me off my sorry butt. Is there anything I can do, Lord, within what is my capacity, to make up for even a fraction of it? Or is it just to say to You, "I'm sorry," and be truly sorry for it, and to move on?
I gave up my quest for magic when I understood that thing You told me: "Work is magic." I remember back when, when I wanted to do nothing — I wanted everything to be brought to me on silver platters, aglow with enchantment. That person: he was perhaps someone else, though I know it was I. After all of it, maybe it is just this that I should say:
"I am not what I ought to be. I am not what I want to be. I am not what I hope to be. But still, I am not what I used to be. And by the grace of God, I am what I am."
- John Newton
My Lord, I guess all I can do is thank you for bringing me where I am today. I know the road ahead is still long, but I can look back and smile at the stretch of highway I have already traveled. Let me dream my dreams, and I will be happy. And amen to You.
