I grasp for words to describe the feelings.
I wander in my mind and wonder at how to express.
Knowing that with every word comes misunderstanding, and yet...
I want to speak and show forth.
So intensely sad and disappointed and yet so calmed.
Perplexed and confused and yet keenly aware of being known
and seen.
Anger and frustration at my fingertips, yet an offering of
belly-laughter alongside.
Will I wake up from this nightmare? Or tonight know the peace of dreamless sleep?
My soul still hasn't caught up with my body.
Are we really still here, suffering with this reality?
Knowing that every day holds the potential for better or
bad.
This world falling apart at the seams, tearing apart into
fragments.
I grasp for words to communicate the Presence.
The depths of peace and hope and the undergirding Truth.
The Word that whispers sweet breath that I can almost smell
and taste.
I want to speak of the doubt and the drought and the faith
and the filling.
I need to speak forth, to be on display.
Me, us... him, we...
we are jars of cracking clay.
Glory poured in and itching to pour out.
This glorious procession... me a member of the great band of
witness...
we are....
Weary and wonderful.
Beautiful and broken.
Downcast and lifted up.
Confused and cared for....
I grasp for words to express.