And where they go when they're gone, what pushes them away and dries them up.
I call myself a writer. A poet, even. And still I find myself sitting here without words. Empty and weighed down, all at the same time.
It's been a long week, one full of juxtaposition. A clear reminder that my body isn't well yet--and a fresh infusion of hope that I will be well one day soon. A decision to pursue expensive testing--and a demonstration of God faithful provision in unexpected ways. A desire to write, to speak, to be known--and an emptiness of words that leaves me silent.
In the end, I am left feeling a little weary from the journey. Too weary to search for words that don't want to be found.
And then I remember.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. (John 1:1)
The Word God lives in me. And all the words that need to be written, spoken, heard--they are all His. To give or take, to hide or reveal, to silence or give voice.
Today the words are gone, but He isn't. And isn't that what all the gifts add up to in the end? Him. Here. Now.
Words aren't enough to say thank you for that anyway.
519. New journal full of blank pages and possibility
520. Mug of extra-hot chai on extra-cold Spring day
521. Thought-provoking discussions between friends
522. Crochet project in hand while telling stories from the week
523. Willow tree blooms dropping in the wind like tiny snowballs
524. Surprise rain shower on the way to the doctor's office
525. Doctor and I on the same page. Finally. An all-out miracle
526. Treatment moving forward. Finally. Another all-out miracle
527. Perfect white heaven clouds beneath a stormy grey sky
528. Brightly colored bags to carry the around with me
529. Dad who climbs trees, trims branches to let in the light
530. Stuffed peppers baked to perfection
531. Laughing hard enough to make the stomach muscles hurt
532. Pink-tinged clouds scattered across blue sky at dusk
533. Counting down days until vacation
534. Leftover rice for breakfast, with milk and cinnamon--childhood memories in a bowl
535. Giving myself permission to write instead of research
536. Cat playing with pens while I write about life
537. Friday finally arriving at the end of a long week
538. Sun finally returning after too many days of darkness
539. Fighting the cats for sun spots on the floor
540. Strength for extra hours of work
541. Reminder that my body isn't ready to back to those extra hours
542. God's faithful provision, on the heels of a financial commitment
543. Skeins of yarn staked up tall, new blanket ready to begin
544. One tulip blooming in a pot full of winter's defeat
545. Homemade molasses cookies to accompany each cup of tea
546. Folding laundry late at night, knowing tomorrow will be better with one less thing to do
547. Climbing into bed for an afternoon nap--oh the bliss!
548. Rainstorm coming while I rest, making music on the glass
549. Words finally coming together, letting me move forward
550. Word God Who is always here, now.
551. Knowing the words will come back when it's time
552. Knowing He will never need to come back because He will never leave in the first place
beautiful words and message, even when saying 'nothing' - POET - Definitely. <3
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