Chapters

There is a book that sits in front of me. It's a book that is extremely personal. It's not something tangible, however. It's my book of life. I have been flipping back and forth through the pages in attempt to see what lies ahead. Each time I flip a page beyond where my story resides, all that is revealed remains crisp and blank.

I can flip back a few pages. I see my mistakes, my eraser shavings, and my crossed out words. All of which I have access to because the past can't be rewritten. I become frustrated in my efforts to read the end of the book. I look closer; I dig deeper--with no avail.

Then, with sudden urgency, excitement fills my mind and my heart to do one thing: begin where I left off writing. I haven't found the pencil yet, but I'll never cease to attain one to keep my book for those to read.

Life is full of chapters. I have some that are short and some that are long. I am just barely starting a grand new adventure; a twist in the plot.

And I'm ready.