Hope

Sometimes, she thinks the world is conspiring against her.
There's a little porcelain jar on the table, and she wonders.
Go ahead, her thoughts say, open it.
Little does she know that there's an audience screaming "don't do it" just a fourth-wall away.
Curiosity gets the better of her and she unstoppers the jar.
And all hell breaks loose.
Every doubt, every moment of uncertainty,
All of her fears, failures and phobias fill her head, freed at last.
It's amazing how easily Pandora is forgotten, until the moment after making the same mistake.

Only later will she struggle to her feet and pick up the jar.
She knows the story, but is afraid to look, afraid to see what might not be there.
But when she finally finds the courage to peek, there it is.
Hope, waiting patiently in the bottom of the jar,
Speaking to her in a still, small voice,
Promising that He has plans for her: plans for a future.
Plans of Hope.

A Case of the Mehs

It's not often I find words inadequate, but today that seems to be the case.
Strange things are influencing my mood--
The death of a stranger,
Being shut off by my brother,
Having wonderful friends who still love me (even when I give them skunk-hair),
Curiosity over hypothetical situations,
A silly picture on a silly blog,
This horribly persistent cold,
Oddly touching moments between animated characters,
The two hundred year-old wisdom of a pilgrim,
And I can't stop thinking about those Towers.

I'm not unhappy, far from it. But I'm tired, and a bit dazed from the cough syrup I took.
There's something new headed my way soon, I can sense it.
But as to what it is, and how it's going to happen, I'm completely clueless.
All I have right now is a restless energy and a faith that You'll show me when it's time.
I suppose that's what I get for asking for patience.