I am lost for words. I don't know what to say. All I know, if you'll allow me to open my heart to you, I am suppressing the tears from coming out from my eyes but I can't control the mucus from going up and down my nostrils due to mixed feelings I am having right now. I am overcome with acute nostalgia associated with the poem, the hope it promises and the pain I have gone through in life seems to resurface and I am asking my own self, "Why is this being shared to me now when my memory had already been oblivious of its existence?" When I wrote something before, I had had no confidence in anything I wrote. But when I read this poem, it seems I am reading the works of another person. I can feel his hope despite the pain he was feeling. Optimism behind pain of waiting. Yet waiting is pain all throughout. I had forgotten I ever wrote this poem. Luckily, I gave the poem to a particular friend who has kept it religiously "as a token of our friendship." Only awhile ago, he messaged and sent me an e-copy of the card I gave him. Why is God reminding me of my struggle and hope through this poem? Is it now the appointed time of the Lord in my life? I am still waiting, Lord. Please give me more strength to wait on still. I trust in Your faithfulness.
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