“Life and love and why.”
I used to sit around thinking and writing about what life is about and what I wanted my life to say or be, or do. I would ponder the depths of my heart and wish for a day in the future when my dreams would come true. I’d wish for the day when a dashing prince would come take me away and we would live in our castle and be blissfully happy and raise a family together. Here I am: my day has come. My prince showed up out of nowhere and wisked me away to this tiny little castle where I now chase after a tiny princling of our own, with another on the way. My day has come, and I feel as though I don’t have much to dream about. I feel like there isn’t much depth in my heart to ponder anymore, and I wonder if there ever will be again. I am happy, make no mistake. Like I said, this is the life I dreamed of. But I wonder, is there not something else to hope for? Is there nothing left to ponder and search for and cry about and write music about? I have no more lamenting songs of heartache as the boy I like walks away from me as I hold back my tears. I feel no painful struggle to stay away from the enticing tangles of youth. And somehow I don’t think that a song about diapers and laundry would have any appeal to anyone – least of all me. My heart aches for something to ache for, but I don’t feel an ache for anything but that.
“Could it be true? Can life be new? Could it be all that I am is in You?”
(“lyrics” by switchfoot)