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Why?
Why am I the odd one?
Am I the only one?
My restless heart knows the truth,
but the angst won’t allow me peace.
Is there hope?
I long for what money can’t buy.
I don’t have much, so I should find it easily,
yet continue searching.
Why am I the odd one?
My heart is thirsty,
like the deer that pants for water.
My soul longs after God;
the satisfaction always seems just beyond my reach.
What am I doing wrong?
I want more than the next big thing,
I want more than the whims of man.
I want more than what the charlatans have to offer.
I want adventure, I want life.
My restless soul says there’s got to be more.
Why am I the odd one?
I’m tired of going through the motions.
Of knowing the right thing to do.
I’m tired of the platitudes. Of the dissatisfaction.
The emptiness won’t seem to fill.
Why won’t the streams of living water flow?
I long for belonging, for the mystery of love.
I want to experience anew the wonders of creation.
I want a wellspring of refreshing that turns the mundane into the marvelous.
Why am I the odd one?
I want more than status quo, more than just existing.
I want to greet each day with passion, to know that I matter.
I want significance.
Why am I the odd one?
Am I the only one?
Why?
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