(no subject)
You open so many doors that a breeze is blowing in. Its a familiar wind, the wind of change, and I don't like it. Sometimes I want to stay here with them, with the things and people I know. I want to stay here with them, and you know that.
Except, I can't. I know that if I stay where I am, with all of these open doors, yet don't go through them, then that breeze of change is going to change me for the worse. You didn't open these doors without the intention of me stepping through, instead You opened them to take me to new doors, with new breezes, but with new people? I hope not, I am finally free with these people, finally able to be me. I know You will provide though, you always have, you always will.
Change. It changes things. But will it change me?
Except, I can't. I know that if I stay where I am, with all of these open doors, yet don't go through them, then that breeze of change is going to change me for the worse. You didn't open these doors without the intention of me stepping through, instead You opened them to take me to new doors, with new breezes, but with new people? I hope not, I am finally free with these people, finally able to be me. I know You will provide though, you always have, you always will.
Change. It changes things. But will it change me?