I can't say it's been a wonderful life.
I'm not exactly sure such a thing exists.
But it's the only life I have.
I must at least try to live it the best I know.
Sure there will be pain.
I will be hurt.
Mostly at my own hand.
I have my own blood on my hands.
Still, here I am.
Weathered and worn out.
I'm still the one left standing.
Even though I wobble and stagger.
I even topple over.
Always face first, down in the dirt.
Still, I sit up and spit out the dirt.
I ask myself: "Is there a better way?"
I answer myself: "There's has to be a better way!"
So I rise to standing.
Looking ahead, seeing the broken 
  and crooked path laid out before me.
I admit debilitating fear.
So much so, I am afraid to even try.
Somewhere deep in my heart.
I see a level path before me.
So there in me, hope rises.
My faith in the unseen but known is what
  drives me.
So, onward, upward.
On bloodied hands and knees if need be.
Believing someone will pick me up and carry me
  the rest of the way.
If need be.
Otherwise I will draw strength.
From this strength from within my heart and soul.
This my journey.
For me and me alone to walk.
I will not walk alone though.
I don't know the way.
Only one does.
And so I will follow.
I will continue to sojourn on the best I know.
I know I will lose myself somewhere along the way.
I know I will lose hope.
I know I will become not strong enough any more.
But that's only on my own.
I know better.
I will not be left on my own.
Still, I can't say I will not ever doubt.
That's how I am.
That's what I do.
I am just a man.
I am my own man.
I'll always get in my way.
That's the way I choose to go sometimes.
That's who I choose to be sometimes.
I am my own worst enemy.
Grace will always be there.
Love, and love unfailing will always be there.
I will always hear that still, small voice.
There's still hope for me.
Even if I don't think I have any.
I tend to wander.
It's my wanderlust.
Why, I don't know.


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