September 10th, 2016

What did you not do this week because you didn't think it would be important to anyone but you? What do you not do because you don't think it matters (to anyone but you)? What do you imagine that your life could look like "if only"? What do you dream about that you aren't doing? What do you hope one day that you can do that you feel like you can't do now?

There is a quote that is attributed to George Eliot (the pen name of Mary Ann Evans), that goes like this, "It is never too late to be what you might have been".

I was looking into the origins of a quote that I heard today and it led me to The Poems of Adelaide A. Procter. I'm so glad that I do this... looking into the context of quotes. I discover so much treasure here!

This is the poem that has me held captive today. So much hope, all mixed with reality here. Our journey moves in so many directions that we often cannot control or predict. The tendency or temptation is to give up on that which God has put in our heart. Instead, let's hold tight to what we have been shown is possible, holding on to the hope, that is the life we are called to. Let's not stop. Let's not give up. It's never too late. What it actually looks like may morph along the journey, making it more beautiful than we imagine. Because, He is able to do much more than we are able to imagine or think...if we just don't quit. Show up with your gifts, your passion, and give it all, receive it all.

“Have we not all, amid life's petty strife,
Some pure ideal of a noble life
That once seemed possible? Did we not hear
The flutter of its wings, and feel it near,
And just within our reach? It was. And yet
We lost it in this daily jar and fret,
And now live idle in a vague regret.
But still our place is kept, and it will wait,
Ready for us to fill it, soon or late:
No star is ever lost we once have seen,
We always may be what we might have been.
Since Good, though only thought, has life and breath,
God's life--can always be redeemed from death;
And evil, in its nature, is decay,
And any hour can blot it all away;
The hopes that lost in some far distance seem,
May be the truer life, and this the dream.”
― Adelaide Anne Procter, The Poems of Adelaide A. Procter