Stories Untold

I have so many questions. I’ve said heaps of things about not thinking too much and how often that’s my problem, about letting your mind go and the ridiculous human search for answers to every single thing out there. But this is our nature as people, as human beings. This is how we function. There’s a curiosity and a need to know. I’ve been condemning the very basic instincts of the human nature to find things out and simply figure out where we come from. Science, philosophy, religion, psychology and all that… We’re just trying to find our way back home. It’s a small part inside us that stayed when we left the garden behind us; a small piece of God and his love that couldn’t be taken away because we’re ultimately His children. Every creation contains a piece of its creator.
My questions often drive me insane. I could say that I pretty much every single time that I try to figure something out find myself very lost and very confused. I say need to know, when what I’m really trying to say is that I simply want find my way back home. I don’t have any solutions or answers. I only hope that I’d perhaps somehow stumble into it. Somehow fall back home. Fall into his presence, fall into his grace. Fall into the peace and righteousness that no one deserves. Fall, because I can’t seem to find any other way. I guess that’s a part of His grace. If only I’d get that.