Words hold mystery and truth in the very same sentence. Words can break through the cold and hard places within much like the daffodils break through the wintered ground in the spring. Words, whether born from my pen or from another’s, are my thing. I am always hungering for more. Yet there are moments, like this morning, when the world seemed to stop spinning if only for the briefest of moments.
“Because a loveless world,” said Jesus, “is a sightless world.” (John 14:23)
One and done.
I can’t move beyond. I am set to wonder if all those times I have prayed to see but found myself struggling in the dark is because of this.
How many things have I called invisible but truth be told, the blindness was first in my heart before it ever made it to my eyes?
It seems fitting to me that I sit here awhile.
Daffodils don’t break through the ground flowering yellow right away.