I long for the words to write. I write in order to understand. I write to attempt to make sense of the uncertainties. I write to share the hope I know, and the truth I find. Once I’ve put it into words, I gain clarity and certainty.
I hate the chaos of unwritten words. Those words left to bounce around in the head, just trying to decipher where to go, what order they belong, and mostly, what they mean. A million started sentences in mind, but they can’t seem to be finished.
I’m reminded of my God. A God who is bigger than my lack of words, my lack of certainty, my lack of concrete understanding. He knows all, He sees all. He knows the order and the meaning of all the unwritten words. Yet, for now, they seem to remain inside my own mind.The Lord teaches me the power of the unwritten word, the words I’m still figuring out. The Lord teaches me in the silence that there is a time to speak, a time to listen, and a time to be quiet. There is value in tuning out even your own voice to clarify His above all. He reminds me the importance of relying on His Spirit, and pouring the entirety of my unfinished sentences into His hand, and letting Him finish them for me.