Only the Young...

I am a child, a toddler trapped in the body of a reckless teenager. I fall short. I lean on this world instead of my creator. I say things I know I will regret. So I run. I run from everything that has made me who I am. I run from my family, the ones who I should trust but often refuse to. I run from the part of me that tells the truth. From my friends, from school, from church, from everything, I run. I take off in a dead sprint to no where in particular, looking for something I can never quite name. No destination, no inclination to stop, never considering that I am not alone, I run. Then, in the middle of my tired stride, I am lifted into the air. It's as if I am flying, but I'm not. My exhausted and aching body is cradled in the arms of my Father. He snatches me up just at the moment when I am about to crumble to the burning pavement. His embrace fills the insatiable gap that haunts me day and night. My worries vanish and I am, yet again, made new. I can't make that happen, only He can. I am just a child, thankful for who He is. 

"...Only the young can say

They're free to fly away

Sharing the same desires

Burning like wildfires..."

*I had a little trouble formatting the color on this...