At 27, I sometimes feel so old.
My eyes are starting to wrinkle, and I think maybe my heart is too. Laugh lines and worry creases from years spent squinting into the future.
But I am young. Let me be young. Let me be who I am, as I am.
And please, do not leave me out.
Sometimes I have nothing to say. But it is not because I have no thoughts, no feelings. I have too many thoughts, too much feeling.
Sometimes I am extroverted, maybe too opinionated. Please do not tell me I'm naive, that "someday" I will understand or think differently. Perhaps I will. But for today, I am here. I am not naive. I am hopeful.
I am young, but even still, my eyes see clearly. They see so much. They have already seen so much. You have seen different things. Maybe you have seen more.
My mother says to me one day, "You have more divorced friends than I do." There is no judgment in her words,"It must be hard for you to have hope."
This is understanding, sadness, love. My eyes fill up as I nod.
I am young, but I have something to say. I know this, because I have a voice.
You have a voice too, and therefore, things to say to me. Please, tell me your story.
I want to know we are not so different, that across generations and gender and religions and cultures are others who love Jesus but don’t always know what to do with Him, others who are compelled to create, others who sometimes wonder what it means to live well.
I want us to talk, be heard and loved, and sometimes even understood. I want the wisdom of your wrinkles and the wisdom of mine to bleed into each other and smooth the worries and pain we carry as humans. We are all young. We are people, we have not yet arrived, and we are young.
My eyes are starting to wrinkle, and I think maybe my heart is too. Laugh lines and worry creases from years spent squinting into the future.
But I am young. Let me be young. Let me be who I am, as I am.
And please, do not leave me out.
Sometimes I have nothing to say. But it is not because I have no thoughts, no feelings. I have too many thoughts, too much feeling.
Sometimes I am extroverted, maybe too opinionated. Please do not tell me I'm naive, that "someday" I will understand or think differently. Perhaps I will. But for today, I am here. I am not naive. I am hopeful.
I am young, but even still, my eyes see clearly. They see so much. They have already seen so much. You have seen different things. Maybe you have seen more.
My mother says to me one day, "You have more divorced friends than I do." There is no judgment in her words,"It must be hard for you to have hope."
This is understanding, sadness, love. My eyes fill up as I nod.
I am young, but I have something to say. I know this, because I have a voice.
You have a voice too, and therefore, things to say to me. Please, tell me your story.
I want to know we are not so different, that across generations and gender and religions and cultures are others who love Jesus but don’t always know what to do with Him, others who are compelled to create, others who sometimes wonder what it means to live well.
I want us to talk, be heard and loved, and sometimes even understood. I want the wisdom of your wrinkles and the wisdom of mine to bleed into each other and smooth the worries and pain we carry as humans. We are all young. We are people, we have not yet arrived, and we are young.
I loved this, especially your link "I have a voice". So great, thanks for sharing your heart.
ReplyDeletethank YOU for reading it :)
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