this is beautiful.

And although I may be more unsure about everything right now,
I still feel more confident about the way my life is being handled than I have been in a very long time.
And this...
This is beautiful.
(Even if I'm depressed.)

The way things go.

With the way my life has turned, flipped, fell over lately, I have felt like this blog didn't fit me anymore. 
And it doesn't. 
Not really. 
Not the way it used to. 
I debated deleting it. 
I debated starting over from scratch. 
I debated deleting just some posts and leaving important ones. 
I debated starting a new blog and leaving this one to collect dust. 
I even started a new blog (then abandoned that one as well).
Ultimately I just decided to stop posting at all (or as often). 
So for the last few months (actually pretty close to  a year...) I have kept Blogger on my 3rd tab open, always open. And occasionally I'd switch over to it, check my stats, read through a few blogs I follow, then switch back to Facebook, Tumblr, Dr. Who...
Even more rare, I'd open a new post, sit here, type something like "ekjhdfshs" then exit out and pretend it never happened. 
Last night, I blogged and it felt good. 
But it felt weird, because it's like I'm trying to hold on to the way I used to do things but that doesn't fit anymore so what am I even doing, really. 
Ah. My life. 
And so here I am. 
And I have decided that instead of deleting anything, I'm going to put all those posts that would have been deleted in the back of my mind. I'm going to pretend they didn't happen except for on those rare nights that I have to remind myself what I've come form. 
And instead of abandoning this blog completely, I'm going to abandon the way this blog has been set. 
No more "How to" format/title. (Unless it actually fits...)
No more... Well you get the picture. 
Hopefully things will be different now, and I can still blog without forgetting this blog. 

Note to self: This is a good change. This is the way things go. This is the way life goes. 

How to Imagine.

I imagine we stood in line one time. 
We stood in line in the pre mortal world. And we waited. 
Slowly, we made our way up to the front.
Up to where our Father was. 
And we watched him.
We watched him give out words of warning. Last minute hugs. Quick reminders. Expressions of love. 
Slowly, we watched as he told everyone in front of us about who they were. 
You. You're a musician. You will work well with a piano if you put your mind to it.
You. You're a romantic. You will work well as a wife. As a mother. Just keep me at the front of your mind.
You. You're a mechanic. 
You. You're a dental hygienist.
You. You're believer.
You. You're...
And the line moved forward. 
I imagine that as we got closer, we got more nervous. 
What am I going to be? What am I? What do I have the potential for?
We knew we had a purpose. And we knew that it would fit us perfectly. But for the first time ever, we were unsure about what exactly it was. 
It was scary to know that for the first time, we would be without our Father's constant companionship. We would be in a world where we remembered nothing. 
I imagine that as I stepped up to the front of the line, He looked at me and nodded. 
I imagine that he took me in to a hug and told me that I was going to be a writer. That I had many purposes, but next to being a daughter of God, I was a writer.
And I nodded. Remembering the moments I spent in line being fascinated with language, and the way words sounded. The way words sounded while they poured so beautifully out of our Father's mouth. Remembering how much I had wanted to make my words sound like that, too. 
And it made sense.
And I knew that I had one shot in this world to figure that out. 
So I nodded. And He hugged me again. And I promised to come back. And He promised to be waiting. 
I imagine that I stepped through that veil with confidence. 

So what happened next? 

Next... 
I forgot. And I got lost. And everything He said I had the potential to be was lost on me. 
I doubted my divinity. I doubted a plan. I doubted that there was even a Father at all. 

But I made a promise. And there's something sacred about promises. There's something binding about them. Something so binding that it won't ever let me stray too far. 
And I know that I will never be out of reach of my promise. I will never stray so far that my promise will be permanently broken. 
And I will return. 
Because one time, I imagine my Father in Heaven hugged me and told me of my divinity. Whispered words of love. Held me and told me one last time before sending me off in to this world that I am his daughter. 
And I will not let him down.