More from my journal today:
And in the quiet part of the day, we finally share our true words and mean them from the bottom of us.
And they touch something, stir something, mean something to someone somewhere, in hope. Our words finally settle into themselves and can really bless, despite us.
And in the meantime, we rush and blaze and trail to know the competition of being alive; we interrupt ourselves; we try to react, work, guard too hard or defend….but then again, the evening comes for our words, and we know—
what St John told us: “blessed are you who know and rest in The Word….” We finally place our silly unusual and gorgeously expressive words in His Living Word-founding them in His foundry, and finding our names hidden somehow in His.
And we are again astounded that He held our names as and in love’s whisper for so long. He held His breath for us to form!
And then our tone comes clear, we are obviously near, then, to our real words. What we were meant to speak each day, at least by evening.