So the cycle begins... again.
It struck me that the last time I played the guitar like that... was in another, similar situation. A similar feeling - a nexus of time and confusion and wondering what's next. I asked God if he understood. I don't think he does sometimes.
I also wonder... is it ok to come back in the good times, and to shy away in the bad? Why does that happen? I don't want to pray, or be faithful, just when I want something.
But there it was, again, last night (and... again this morning)... that wonderful something. Those moments when melodies drip from fingertips, where terse lyrics bleed into verses and chorus. And sometimes a middle 8.
I look at my friends and their lives... I see their successes and failures. I still think each one of us has a purpose.
I wonder when I will stop running from mine.
So simple, to pick it up and just play. Maybe not so simple to write something meaningful... but it is amazing how when you forget about it, it reminds you in the most special of ways. Like just before bed on a Tuesday night.
A detuned string and a disenchanted lullaby. A broken heart and an unchained melody.
Somedays, it's all there is to live for. That is always enough.
And though I wrestle with him daily - God and his mischieveous plans for my life - and can still thank him for the gift of song.
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