I want to be a creator. Of all things great and beautiful.

I want to be a creator but I've forgotten about one Creator. Also a Savior of all lost and hopeless. Of the broken pieces and the ladies in waiting. Always waiting.

I have forgotten how to be a servant to a king. The King. And that if I long to be someone great one day, I must labor now. Toil in the darkness of the night where nobody sees. Plant the seeds. Water the trees. Do this today. Not waiting for the right moment because the right is now. Right now I need to move. Move from the jungle of depression and the lake of loneliness. Such seduction of "Never leave" and "I'll never leave you."  One makes you lose yourself and the other drowns you. Both strangle you and keep you. Such is the circle of life. Of brokenness and of healing. Of serving and then creating. Of losing and then winning. Hakuna Matata.

Footsteps on an empty hallway will be shouts of victory in the morning. Battle scars will be battle cries. Tests will become testimonies. Messes will become messages. Victorious glory and glorious victory. Eternal, eternal.

I want to be a creator. A creator who doesn't forget about her Creator.