the start

I wanted to write a Facebook post about how I'm counting today as the start of summer and some other stuff, but it didn't work so I decided to write this poem instead. I didn't think it would end up where it went, but I'm happy that it started talking about May and whatnot and then ended where it did. 

Well hello May. 

It seems winter was too long

and spring wasn't long enough 

but I'm counting you as the start 

of summer. 

The start of something new 

and the start of what I pray will 

be an amazing new beginning 

to a new chapter. 

My God, You've brought me so far 

and looking back, I almost 

don't recognize myself. 

Who I was 

isn't who You've made me. 

September feels like so long ago 

and I think back then, 

summer felt so far away

But here it is! 

This is it. 

I remember being almost there,

but now it's practically here. 

Time has flown by 

so much has happened 

and I pray that it wasn't wasted 

and that it won't be wasted. 

Oh Father, You've carried me so far

I had my doubts when the end began,

I feared I wouldn't get here, 

and people fed my doubt,

but now, 16 days and I'll be there. 

Father, I give You all of the credit

for all that You've done

You've changed my heart,

and You've given me more than

I could've asked for.

And You daily remind me of Your love. 

Father, I thank You for how far You've carried me. 

You started something in me,

and You're continuously working 

with Your hands until Your work is done 

And I'm here,

ready to do whatever You will for my life. 

You started something last January,

It was an end...

And a start. 

Oh, my God, so much has happened

between then and now 

And I don't know where I'd be.

If I had never become who You've 

changed me to be. 

When I came back to You

on that day, 

You  took me in Your arms that 

You held out to me,

it was the start 

of You working

in my heart.

Because I was a blank canvas,

needing You to paint Your picture on. 

I was an empty page,

needing You to write Your story on. 

Oh, how I was a blank slab of marble,

desperately needing my Sculptor. 

an empty page, a blank canvas, a blank slate--

Oh, how You've written Your story on my heart, 

Oh, how You've sculpted me to be the shape of 

what You want me to be,

Oh, How You've painted Your picture of

grace on what was once a blank canvas. 

Father, where I ended,

You started.