(fragments of 2014)
a collage of loosening fingers, of exhaling white smoke into the blackness and watching it fade, of saying goodbye, of salty paths traced down cheeks, of letting go. learning how and when to let go; to move on, release the past, bridge the gap that has been a gaping wound for so long.
and also, like a song of hope, a mosaic of white knuckles, of gripping tighter, of refusing to let a face - so different, and yet, hauntingly familiar - fade into the smoky shadows of the past. recognizing the hazed glimpse of victory. the moment pale fingers grasp onto something - fragile, crumbling - and you simply know it is not something to give up on. you don't know why. it cannot be explained.
back and forth. holding on, letting go. receiving, giving. waiting. wondering. looking backwards, pondering the future.
and such is life.
i look back at the year with veiled eyes. first glance, eyes sweeping the cracks of the past, burrowing, seeking, cracking, breaking, searching, comparing; where we've come from, and where we are now.
the change we see is not enough. it's never enough. the biggest footsteps, the most painful changes, the raw, aching losses. they never add up to what we think they should be.
if only i had done this. i should've been more.
we never escape the grip of imperfection. we see it everywhere. it swallows the past, it shadows the future. it rises before our eyes. it whispers, you are never going to be enough.
there is no fear in that realization. it's true. we aren't enough. but He is. we find our rest in the shadow of His love, and mercy. we find our peace in His promises. we will never be enough. but we don't have to be. because He is, and always has been.
and so, we learn. we move on. we accept the past, and plan for the future. lessons learned. fingers clinging with pensive persistence. new beginnings. nights spent staring at the shadows that crawl across the ceiling. holding on, letting go. the seasons progress. faces change. people disappear, wisps of smoke across the gray sky.
there's always something we wish we could change in the past. regrets. painful memories. ghosts that haunt us. white knuckled fingers, hearts thundering in our chests. remembering. wishing.
but remember this: we cannot change the past. we can only learn from it.
this year has been overflowing. rocky. filled with new things, and many muched-loved faces. crazy. adventurous. full of growth, and changes and difficulty. brimming with hellos and goodbyes.
there are always things to celebrate. this year, i've learned (and am still learning. always) to simply celebrate life. love every moment. the brokenness, the tear-stained moments and bittersweet memories. the organic, raw beauty of learning and growing and changing.
it's the simple things that make life the most memorable; things that have a hold of our minds and hearts. and the funny thing about it? we often find the smallest moments are the ones that mean the most; the ones that stay with us the longest.
here's to twenty-fifteen. beauty, pain, laughter, sorrow and everything in between. xo