For you Eden....sorry to be so quiet.
The words have such trouble coming when I'm feeling this way. It's hard to even describe. I feel...stuck...and I can't write. That's a problem because putting words on paper is a big part of how I cope. Usually when I have a problem it's the writing, the process of working through my issue with words, that helps. The writing untangles messes and sets priorities where they should be. But now, it's already been untangled it's been talked through with no resolution. Priorities are not matching up. There's nothing more to work out, except this overwhelming feeling that it's wrong. I'm stuck. My heart hurts. I want something I can't have. This sadness lurks behind every smile and taints the memories I'm making. So this is why I haven't written. I don't ever want to whine or be a complainer or sound ungrateful for what I've been given. So I'm taking Solomon's advice and stilling my tongue (well, really, my fingers) until I can be inspired to write about something else.
I want it to go away. I want to let it go. I want to just be satisfied. Or I want God to answer this desperate prayer with a yes.
The words have such trouble coming when I'm feeling this way. It's hard to even describe. I feel...stuck...and I can't write. That's a problem because putting words on paper is a big part of how I cope. Usually when I have a problem it's the writing, the process of working through my issue with words, that helps. The writing untangles messes and sets priorities where they should be. But now, it's already been untangled it's been talked through with no resolution. Priorities are not matching up. There's nothing more to work out, except this overwhelming feeling that it's wrong. I'm stuck. My heart hurts. I want something I can't have. This sadness lurks behind every smile and taints the memories I'm making. So this is why I haven't written. I don't ever want to whine or be a complainer or sound ungrateful for what I've been given. So I'm taking Solomon's advice and stilling my tongue (well, really, my fingers) until I can be inspired to write about something else.
I want it to go away. I want to let it go. I want to just be satisfied. Or I want God to answer this desperate prayer with a yes.
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