More.

I had my feet dangling over the edge of the precipice. Just low enough to feel the upthrust of the wind, yet not so far that I didn’t feel safe. This time last year I was hesitant. Not so keen to have ‘more’. Of anything. I was Oliver…twisting my kinky locks around my index finger, (wondering why it was still in the awkward stage and not longer), hand clutching desperately to the lifeline that was holding me secure, eyes wide open; betraying the unrest of my heart as I stuttered, please God, may I have some more?

Not actually wanting it. I was fine to just stay where I was, having had enough of life and her experiences. Wishing the ‘best teacher’ would pick on somebody else to be her pet. I would just sit this one out, on the sideline. Cheering on anyone else that made the big leap, content in my spot. I didn’t necessarily want to try out anything new. I was 21, and I should have been in my prime. Ready to take on the world! But I wasn’t. I was newly single too. Was that the cause for my lackluster approach to the year? Maybe, who knows. Call it a mid/quarter-life crisis, whatever. I was there.

And as much as I regret to admit it. I pretty much stayed there. The whole year round. I was genuinely happy for everyone else’s success, in whatever respect. Academic achievements. Faith. Love. Relationships. The lot. But because I myself had resolved to keep things on ‘the easy’, I wasn’t discontent in my own lack thereof. I was happy for the most part, progressing in my own ways. I discovered so much in the Makings of Me and learned a lot lot lot about myself. And because of that, I don’t regret taking a Time-Out from life. I feel that a breather was needed, much so. I feel that a deep breath of fresh air was vitally essential before i took the plunge. The simple truth is that I was DECIPHERING ME.

For instance, my 22nd birthday came with a whirlwind of feelings. I already knew I was a SELFLESS being. I have had a passion to help people for as long as I can remember. I love children. So helping children, is the ultimate goal. The morning of my birthday dawned beautifully. I had made arrangements to visit an orphanage with a friend of mine and we did just that. Spending the morning with those adorable little souls was just glorious. Once more I acknowledged that this was my calling…I was content. The end of my day however, was on the other end of the spectrum. It was a Saturday. Talk about perfect right? The perfect day to have a birthday. I was sure I would be surrounded by my friends and it would be a day that would go down in the ages, and yet only one of my ‘many’ friends was able to make it out for an early dinner (for which I was super grateful!), and I spent the rest of my night alone. I held a brave face, took myself out for poetry night and called it a wrap. The minute I stepped into my room though, I crumpled in a heap beside my bed and let it all out. Looking like a hot mess I sobbed uncontrollably at the unfairness of the world, until I was hit with the sudden realization. I was SELFISH. period.

Inasmuch as I am not nearly there, and there is still so much about myself I am yet to discover…now, I feel ready. The start of this year has had me excited like I have never been. More and more often I have found myself praying desperately. Lord! Give me MORE! I want MORE!

More passion, more flair. More LOVE and more care. More adventures, more fun. More happy times in the sun. More joy, more peace. More hope and more increase. More patience, more grace. More faith. More Jesus. Yes more, more and MORE!

There’s only one thing I ask less of. And that is…Less Me.

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