I'm a seed, but a sapling, surrounded by Sequoias.
Sunshine streaming shadows spilling over sandy firmas.
Feeling insignificant as I gaze upon my peers, proper pessimism, permission seeking populant, am I opulent? Translucent can you see me? Seeking support, sounding sorta selfish.
Doubt is destroying, damaging and diminishing my hope, I hope that what little faith I have will one day turn me into a tree that I know God has planned.
He planted me in this soil, watered me and gave me light, but I chose instead to twist my roots, to ensnare and to fight.
So now I must cut the canker, trim the top away, and let the lesser loose land accept me and grow up day by day.
