When I am dead I want to be buried in the woods. I want to be hidden away from the rest of the world, in a place where only a select few know about. Under a willow tree, next to a nice, gentle stream, with nothing to mark my grave but my name, scratched and faded, on a large, ivy-covered stone. That is where I want to rest, not shoved away in a crowded, depressing cemetery. Yes, that's what I want...
I worried my mother the other day. I told her about how I don't mind the thought of dying. I don't fear the fact that I could die anytime. And that is the truth, I really don't.
I explained how I am so sick and tired of our sinful universe. My heart is thirsty. It's thirsty for heaven, for no more pain and suffering. I watch the news and all I want is for Jesus to come back already and fix it all.
I'm not suicidal. I would never kill myself. But if I tragically died suddenly somehow I really wouldn't mind.
I don't know if I'll ever fully understand why God orchestrated it all like this. Why He thought it was necessary for us to live suffocated in sin for so long. But I know there must be some sort of reason. I know He doesn't do things spontaneously, He is a careful and perfect planner. And I'm trying to trust that it will all be for the best someday when I look back on it.
Sorry if this seems weird. Just some of my thoughts as of late, they aren't meant to make sense or be profound in any way.