What is this life? Is it scrounging to make enough money to eat and clothe your children? Is it the drudge of working 40 mindless hours, spending 8 sleeping, and the last precious 8 in front of the TV? I'm not like the strong ones, who God created to be able to struggle and fight for an existence in a bleak world of no opportunities. What did You do when You created me? So sensitive. A fragile and needy orchid among a field of sturdy dandelions. How do they go from day to day, toiling to make ends meet? Some actually seem satisfied. I wonder if I can ever be? Not without beauty I know that. Life is nothing to me without it. Beauty, love, light, spirit - these are my food. I will die of starvation without them. This life is more than material sustenance - by God, this life has to be mysterious powers of the spirit in order for me to live it. How could God make one who is so dissatisfied with what so many long for? Who am I to want so much light, when so many are living with none? Do they even know it exists? ...Maybe that's why I'm here. Can I shine the Sun? This weak, needy child? Can she, who was made so unable, be of use? Nothing do I hope for more than this. Please God, use me. Let me be for something. Let my inadequacies be my tools. Let the way I was made, with all these "flaws", serve Your Beauty. Can I do this? My soul prays for it. Will God support me in this? Will the Ocean of the Spirit flow to my aid if I remember what I cam here for? Please God, let it be so.
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