I am full of questions.

I am full of fears.

I am full of insecurities.

I am full of broken things.

But can I not walk?

Can I not see?

Can I not hear and taste and breathe and speak and whisper and shout and sing and dance and run and jump and climb and laugh and cry and make love and make art and write stories and make delicious food and teach others and learn new things and count and plan and experience and document and edit and share, both things and times?

Is there not still so much within me that works, that runs well and right and good, that keeps time and propels me forward or even down to my knees, to wander in thought and to seek out truth? Is there not still so much within me that is made for beauty and for function, that listens and learns and truly hears, that comforts and lifts up, that helps, that blesses, that brings joy?

Am I yet a good creation?

I hope so.