My Life on a (Virtual) Piece of Paper

There are nights like this, when I nearly believe it's possible to sit down and express the whole of my being - every feeling I'm feeling, every hope I have, every doubt, every struggle, every longing. It never fails, though. I sit down to type and realize that I could never possibly come close to capturing the totality of what it is to be me at this moment. Sure, I could describe some of my fears or my secret thoughts, as I've done a few times before; however, they are woefully inadequate to sum up my life. Isn't that what we all secretly want, though? To be known? To be understood? To be loved because of, or in spite of, those things?

It reminds me of something Donald Miller wrote about in his book, Blue Like Jazz: "There are some places only God can go." Maybe it's enough to know that.