I've been standing on the edge of the cliff for quite some time- long enough to be bored but too short to miss the comfort. My rest on this plateau bought me time to marvel on this great scenery of idealism. Since then, I have contemplated several times of jumping into this harsh reality- again, whatever that is.
But when I jump, will I soar or will I fall? If I soar, where will I go? And if I fall, will someone catch me then teach me how to fly?
I am confused, dazed, and tired of wondering. I turn my head and looking down I see His feet-- all the time He was with me. I sigh in peace and contentment. It matters not if I stay on the edge, or if I soar high, or even if I break my bones after the fall.
It's having Him that matters. I just hope that I remember this every second of my life.
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