Film

What will my life be? Thoughts like butterflies dance before my eyes. I sit here staring at this computer screen. My friends, my family, my thoughts, my home, my country, even my values. Everything that I am right now might all be lost. Everything that is my life in this moment is going to be gone, and I can't get it back. I probably will not even remember it. I love my life. I love who I am, I love Indonesia, I love my school, I love all the people I am with, I love where I am in life, I don't know if I really want to give it up. But the thing is, I do not really have a choice. Because tomorrow I am going to wake up different then today. Everything changes, sometimes for the better, other times not. It's like I am watching a roll of film flicker before my eyes. Each square is a part of life in this moment. Every so often a square drops out, that screen blacks out, then another picture takes it's place. I do not notice, I just keep on watching, keep on filming. Every so often, the film drastically changes. All the squares shatter and drop at once, I do notice these. Sometimes I even miss them, but then more come and more come and soon it doesn't really matter. Sometimes I think about what my life will be like 2 years from now? Who will I be, the kind of person that stays up watching a movie then reminisces about life and time with their fuzzy 2 o'clock brain? How about 5 years? What kind of values will I have? Will I be someone that the 2014 me would be proud to be? Will I like where I am? How about 10 years? Who will I be with? Will I be married, still writing about whatever major bother I happen to have in the future, while my husband lies uncaringly asleep? Will I be satisfied with my life then? Will I even be around then? I don't want to look further down, I cannot begin to guess what pictures lie in store for my eyes to see. I don't know what the point of this is. To live each day to the fullest because each day has it's beauty? To do my best to capture it's beauty? The romantic poets I always mocked were right: writing does transcend time. Although we fade away, the parts of ourselves that we carry down in writing will remain. So though I will not have my life, or though others will not have me, me, in this moment, can be remembered. That is good, but that is not the point. I think the point has to do with God. I think the point has to do with trusting God and surrendering our future into hands that are bigger than mine. Whose fingers carve intricacies and beauty and details of my future that I probably will not even notice or try to see. And knowing that He is good. Then the past and the future and even my life really doesn't matter in comparison to Him. And if I am in Him then I do not need to worry. 

Beauty vs what I need

I wish I was capable, of making something beautiful,
With clay I would carefully mold out the base,
Intricate details I'd lovingly trace,
Into creases unknown and unseen,
I would make the most marvelous dream,
I would make something beautiful.

With music I'd carve out a world of my own,
Where music is freedom and I'm not alone,
And everyone would come and marvel at my song,
and in melody sweet, we would all sing along,
and I would make something beautiful.

If I could paint a picture with words,
Or create a song where true Life is heard,
If I could draw some marvelous thing,
Or dance till the moon joined into sing.
Even in my brilliance, if I captured their love,
Still in the stillness, it would not be enough.

For beauty is fading in everyone's eyes,
And with beauty comes fear, and in fear beauty dies.
With what I create, could it satisfy,
Could it restore what is empty, break down all the lies,
That have risen and choked what is beauty in me,
But in this moment, it is now that I see,
That I may never be able to make what is beautiful,
But that is not what I need,
What I need, what I need, what I need is peace.