Amidst the gratitude of Thanksgiving, the carolling of Christmas, and the first real taste of everyday freedoms, I inconveniently find myself in a rather poetic, albeit incessant, season of silence. Here I am with a world of opportunity before me: volleyball season is over, the calves are weaned, and the evenings are free of homework. I could not have asked for a more promising recipe for writing success.
And yet… I don’t.
This is more than just a writer’s block.
This is about holiday mornings where all I do is sit for an hour in my reading chair, soaking up the sun with the Bible in my lap, and a coffee in my hand. And I don’t breathe a word.
This is about reading social media splattered with personal soap boxes, spouting off individual rights, religious freedoms, prophetic dreams, and bad grammar. And I have nothing to say.
This is about sitting on the floor, gazing up at our first Christmas tree, admiring the lights with only a few scattered ornaments. And I don’t need more.
This is about sitting around a table full of family members – the ones you know, the ones you wish you knew, and the ones you wish knew you. And I silently say my prayers.
This is about holding babies and reading children’s stories and listening to a 9 year old’s letter to Santa. And the only sound is laughter.
This is about those scattered moments full of wishful thinking, daydreaming about a heart’s desires as the calendar days keep passing. And my hopes remain quieted.
This is about trying to comfort loved ones who have lost even greater loved ones. And I can’t find the words.
This is about living my life. For once, without deciphering the words. Without writing them down. Just listening. Just living. All of it, for better or for worse.
And yet my heart is full.
“Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.” – Rudyard Kipling
So then what is meant by their silence?
Satisfaction –
or Hollowness?
Discretion –
or Surrender?
“Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart.”
-
Martin Luther King Jr.
I couldn’t have written it better myself.
