Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
I don’t doubt, sometimes, that I may not make it, among the chosen ones, the steadfast, the unwavering, the ones who stood firm against sin.
But still, I try. And my trying will only cease the day He has fated my end. Perhaps by then, I will have earned my passage to the joys and everlastings of His promise.
I still hope. I still see the possibility. I still long to be part of that eventuality, in the land where milk and honey flow.
I once heard stories that God saves the cursed, but in this case, I’m sure I am the cursed. And all I need now is His hand to lift this curse of life, this darkness, this weight that I carry alone.