Challenges. Changes. The Unknown. Always moving house or moving town or moving on.
A patchwork of events and places and people and faces, sewn in the golden threads of cultural diversity and misfitting and trying to belong.
The only constants: family, love and God. And words.
I wrote not knowing why or how, but writing just the same.
I was colored in happiness and delight.
I was shadowed in sorrow and confusion.
But with every cloud that smothered my sky, I knew – the sun was somewhere, near, just waiting to burst out with brightness and shimmering light.
Random memories scatter across the landscape of my childhood.
Train rides across the savanna, African thunderstorms of purple skies and silver lightning, colorful food and people with loud laughter and conversation in an Italian-influenced home, dancing and singing in our lounge, candlelit dinners in a powercut, silent moments of powerful family prayer, reading a favorite book from my rooftop perch, writing with God.
Life was a song. A story. A kaleidoscope.
Wonderings. Seeking and yearning for something unknown.
I live life on two levels – one is working, playing, praying, crying, laughing, loving, living.
The other part of me sinks into a much deeper realm. One that observes and ponders the life and person that I am.
I wander the mazes and corridors of my own heart and mind. It does not matter if I do not find. It matters only that I search.
My soul longs to know my own self. And in this, to know, really know, God.
How can a life be so complex? Why am I drawn to bathe in the confusion, wrestling, wondering, asking, seeking…?
I long to know, but I revel in the mystery.
Only my pen can pour myself onto paper – a portrait in ink.
Only God can read my life.
Glimmering. Flickering. Reaching hesitant fingers outward and upward.
Daring possibilities dance with the elusive yet tantalizing unknown.
The horizon stretches before me, wide open, beckoning.
The air tastes fresh. The breeze nudges me forward.
What lies ahead? What will I experience along the way?
I do not know. I do not care.
Before me, sorrow and death, joy and life, beauty and love await, shrouded in the secret mist of the future.
My heart beats in wild unfathomable hope.
I take a step. I pick up my pen.
This is my life, and I will live it.
© pictures and words by Emma McGeorge