Window Seat. 37,000 ft. On a Plane.

Here I sit. 37,000 feet above this thing we have learned to call home, above the vast deep blue ocean that seems to seperate so many of us. I'm slowly being rocked by the swaying of the plane - as if being carried in a basket to my next destination. The sun splinters off the wings, as if to shout the fact it is still king over us, though we may be more close than usual. My eyes are moist-no, more like soaking wet. I've left home again, my place of comfort and close friendships, my place of love and safety. I've left once Again to pursue my story, to listen to the cries of my heart as it tells me there is something so great out here, alone. To wade in these deep waters in hopes of being swept away in something bigger than myself. That it's worth sacrificing everything for. Throguh the pain my heart feels-the kind of pain that comes from leaving loved ones, the pain of a deep fear-I can't help but feel some great hope within. That this is what I was made for. That this is why I breathe. My eyes will be opened further to things the longer I'm away and so alone but so alive. That i'm painting a canvas of a beautiful mess I will one day be able to hang proudly in steeples and in offices. That through that pain, I must leap. With every step, every acorn my foot crunches, I see a new sky painted with new clouds. As the sun slowly fades away, rolling over the mountains like a waterfall flows over a cliff, a new hope is being built within me. New words are being poured on my page. This letter I'm writing only gets longer, and I grow more anxious because I know the end result of all this pain, all this fear, all this hope, will be an epic story I can leave for those who follow me. I suppose that is all I want. I want my tombstone to read "here lies a man who packed more life into his years than can be fathomed. Here lies Kevin, who dreamt, and woke to fight and make those dreams a reality for thousands.". That is my heart.

I'm inspred. There's something about starting over that is scary as hell and awfully painful. At first, you feel it's all been a waste. You feel you've just thrown another part of your life away, left it alone to sink into the unforgiving abyss of time. But then you realize it's just another chance to live an adventure. It's another epic, waiting to be filled with blood and sweat and tears. More silence waiting to be broken by any sort of laughter I can bring.

So once again here I am. Waiting. Sitting. Floating so high above all the things that await me. This is my story. The pages are torn and frayed, the words run from tears, but I've still not reached the end. There are still pages waiting to be filled. There are still others waiting to be invited into this glorious chaos with me. And so I will walk. I will walk forward with this great burden on my back to show others, my kids, my friends, my family, these strangers with broken hearts, that anything is possible. I will run into the frontline of these great battles, my lungs filled with the air of promises unspeakable.

My eyes still have not dried. But, my face is filled with a childs smile. A smile that comes from discovering new light and new colors I will somehow learn to paint with. My skin is prickled with a hope that one day, I can look back and remember these times and wonder why I was so scared. I suppose it's always easier to stand on the mountain top with a Birdseye view of the valley and look upon the roads you traveled to get here. Still, it's the warrior in my heart that screams through these valleys that we will live as conquerors. Not just of this world, but of the broken hearts within it. There's something beautiful in that, and I'm out to find it.