I want to paint.
I want to produce children’s storybooks. I want to paint a smile on people’s faces through my work. I want people to feel the warm embrace of Jesus through the pieces that my hands make.
Childhood dreams of going far and wide to the endless spaces of the midnight sky filled with shining stars. I thought nothing could stop me from reaching my dreams, riding clouds on blissful winds.
But I grow older each year. I slowly, painfully, realize, that maybe, it just won’t happen.
The passion that once painted my skies pink, turned to grey. The hopeful gaze in my eyes, slowly faded away.
I am getting older. That’s a fact that I cannot manipulate or change. Time is ticking, age is growing, passion is fading, dreams are falling.
Is there still hope? Or will my mornings be filled of regrets and daily toiling for finances just to pay off debts and necessities?
If God placed this dream in my heart, gave me the passion to create and spread His love, blessed me the hands that could paint His beauty, then why. Why am I not doing what I dreamt to be doing?
I wake up with no direction, no zeal, no art. I yearn to spread my wings. But how can I? When it is locked with responsibilities of adulthood?
Am I capable of reaching my dreams? When my mind is stuck in the past of hopes and dreams. Is everything just a myth, a life filled with disappointments and hurt? What is my dream?
It’s gone. It drowned in the sea of burdens, regrets, disappointments, responsibilities, finances, painful relationships, and consistent daydreams.
My heart is broken.
I don’t know how to get up from this.
I can’t see the silver lining.
The rainbows are hiding.
The stars are falling.
I am drowning in the sea of broken dreams.
