I desire to have something to say, but the more I try to find something... the less I have to say.
Everytime I get in the quiet place, I think... "oh! wouldn't someone else love to hear that!" Then I get to the point of sitting down and writing it out and it loses its gumption.
What I'm learning is that I was made for love. Having a voice isn't what I'm meant to have. Christ is what I get, what I have dwelling in me. The paper doesn't contain the words I hear because they are so sweetly and soley for me that they are not able to be spoken. Words are emotionless, the Holy Spirit is the revealer of the deeper things in words. So rather then living to spread a word, I shall live to spread the Spirit, to embody every moment of glory in the quite and release that moment to the constant buzz of the world.
Man, Jesus is sooo good.
Man, stop trying so hard, just rest, be loved, then go, go love.