TITLE: What I see
By cassie stephens
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Who am I that you would think to make me such. Writing is the art of my passion. Yet, there are my moments of such deep frustration that I neither understand the need, or the ability, I have to write. You came to me so softly, so subtle. I never thought I would make it in such a field. And yet, I cannot live without the pursuing of this passion. Without it, I would be much in question of purpose.
I suppose all of this makes little sense. I have been wondering to the nature of it all since I was fifteen. When You called me to write. I didn't understand. I am not organized, nor am I a dedicated type of person. Yet, I have continued to write since that day.
It's an age old question, the Who am I? But ever since that day You have shown me that I am a writer. I am one of those blessed and cursed with this addiction to place onto paper the frustrations and questions I hold. To make words out the imaginative spirit I keep within.
Lord, how awesome it is to know that you know me better than I know myself. That you know what is best for my spirit. I once cried to the skies for someone to understand me. And then I realized, You were always there.
I am a writer, and this is forever the passion of my heart.
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