it was never that you weren't enough.

you are. i am betting it was just that no one can see your talent. no one can see your obvious passion for what you do. and they make you feel small. like you aren't worth being the star of the show or having your own violin solo.

it feels like it's raining. and it's gonna keep on raining for days and days.

you try to figure out why. why Jesus would give you a dream to reach for and then not let you even touch it. it's frustrating. it can even make you angry. and jealous of people you once called a friend because they can have what you can't.

sometimes it feels like there is a handful of people that are just chosen for all the greatness. they are meant to be the best. they were born to be better than you. to beat you at everything.

but they weren't.

you are meant for greatness, my dear. i know the days where you find yourself searching to be amazing at something and it just feels like you can't. because what you want to do isn't coming together. but chances are that if you love something, you were meant to do it.

i love singing. i love dancing. hence, i know i was meant to do both of those things.

sometimes, you may feel like you lack the talent just because you aren't being seen or recognized by anybody.

no. it's probably just because there's someone who for whatever reason stands out more. their light isn't brighter, though. yours can be just as bright, you know, if not brighter. in fact, i know it already is. you just gotta let it come out of it's box and shine everywhere and let people watch you shoot across the sky. like a firework.

remember that you aren't always created to have everyone knowing who you are just by a glance at your face. you don't always need to be known.

what i am trying to say, i suppose, is that just because you aren't getting your big spotlight moment today doesn't mean you will never get it. and it never means that you don't have the potential to do it.

because i believe in you. and so does He. so there you are, dear. now go and empty your box of all of it's sparks worth turning into a blazing fire.

joy,
hannah.