in the end...

in the end we're all stories.  that's really all there is to it.  some more elaborate and detailed than others...some with more adventure or mystery...some a bit more sad than others...some full of twists and turns, ups and downs...and some...some seem barely read, the pages still nice and neat and binding fully intact.

what's my story?  i've been thinking about that a lot the past week or so.  if something happened to me right now, who would tell my story and what would they say?  did i make an impression on someone's life?  did i do anything worth remembering?  would people point out my flaws, talk about the things i've done wrong, the ways i've hurt others?  what would they tell m?  would she know my heart?  does anyone know me well enough to truly tell her everything about me? 

if we were to read our own story what would we think, what would we feel once we got to the end?  and, i don't mean in regards to the ending itself but rather about the the whole picture...the bits and pieces, the characters, the plot, the choices we made...what would we ultimately think?  i fear being disappointed.  i want to write the most amazing story ever.  to fill each page and then dog-ear the really good ones so i can go back and re-read them when i want to.  i want the binding to be broken from so much use, from so much love - because that's what we do with a really good book...we open it over and over again, pouring over its contents and finding something kin to an old friend.  i hope that if someone i loved were to read my story they would see themselves almost jumping off the pages because of the special role they played in my life.  that they would feel like i had taken the time to get to know them well enough that their character was just as they imagined it to be. 

the pursuit of life.  the writing of a story.  my story.  full of amazing people, many of which i've loved more than they may ever know.  i've seen a little of the world, and dream of seeing much more.  a mom, a sister, a daughter, a friend.  perhaps someday a wife again.  trusting i will be able to see the path being laid before me and smart enough to follow wherever He leads me.  praying constantly to see my place, to know where i fit, to be whatever it is i'm meant to be...and to never write a chapter i'm not proud of. 

this life.  it's mine.  there are few things i would change.  i regret little and love with everything i have.  i am vulnerable, but don't see it as a flaw.  i think it makes me human, more empathetic.  i hope the next chapters are beyond full...that i stop waiting for my life to find me and create the story.  my story.  so, in the end, it will read as i want it to.  not as someone else has written it.