The Blank White Page

Staring at a blank white page is a challenge for me as a writer. Pages shouldn’t be blank. They should be filled with words, sentences, paragraphs…all blending into a woven tapestry of beauty. One word starts the chain.

I’ve been thinking of how my life began as a blank white page when I came into the world as a newborn babe. The first touch, the sudden temperature change, different sounds, light…each of these began the imprints on the page which would become my life. Every day began as a new blank page from that day on. Indelible ink stamped different experiences upon the pages. Each page building upon the other–creating the book of my life. There are pages in my book I’d like to eliminate. The pages cannot be ripped out and thrown away. I can only try to write new ones which shine brighter than the dark stained preceding pages.

When I get to heaven, I hope God will be pleased with my book. Only God has the magic eraser to eliminate the ink stains I carry with me. He washed them away by the sacrifice made on the cross.


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