I’m a reader. A voracious reader you might say. And I am a collector. A collector of thoughts, of ideas, of phrases, words, thoughts, feelings, moments.
And lately I have been unable to get my thoughts, my words down on the page. I’m not sure whats stopping up my voice, my words this time. its just all building up inside.
but in the midst of this inability to express myself…there are words. words that others have written. words that others have spoken. and these words. they quicken my heart. They cause me to have trouble to breathing. but that’s not a bad thing. because i am choking up because they are saying what i’m not able to…and i know this feeling and there is such breathe in knowing you’re not alone.
my breathe catches as i read. and I know its gone soul deep. That when i’m cut off from community (a cutting off at my own hands) that there are words, that there are people who have gone before, that I’m not alone in this moment, that there are voices to speak truth, that there are words to speak truth, and He’s directing me to this truth…even when i’m faltering. when i’m silent outwardly but the voices inwardly can’t seem to leave me alone.