“The tongue of the wise makes knowledge acceptable…”
Proverbs 15:2
The crazy thing about processing life with words, is that those words continually parade through your mind in an endless display of options. Each event, each object, each occurrence plays out in songs and poems. Funny stories flow out of tragic circumstances and judgement and plans are formulated and reformulated over and over before they are actually enacted. Sentences take shape and paragraphs begin over every moment of every day.
This playground for writers provides unlimited repertoires to choose from. Like choosing your favorite candy out of a whole candy shop. It takes time to pick the best for the moment. Perhaps a trip to the candy shop is in order every day? Picking and choosing wisely, tasting and savoring the sweets; getting and giving only the choicest words for that day.
This word-smithing is a lifetime in the making. From the moment we begin to think until we take the last breath, we are creating…
I am often unaware of the sheer volume within the archives of my mind until I begin to talk to someone, to share thoughts and ideas and dreams and visions. The torrent pours forth and I realize, too late, that I haven’t stopped in the release, for even a second, to let the other person respond…
So many of my loved ones are incredibly gracious with me and allow me this great grace by listening politely and thoughtfully as I meander on and on, chasing squirrels, running down rabbit holes and going around and around every tree…
Surely God has blessed me abundantly with those friends and family…
Often, there is a word on my heart that I feel I must share, yet in my busy-ness it is forgotten in favor of another ‘pressing’ word.
I must try then, to honor those moments when an important word comes to the forefront, and stop to record them.
The Giver of the Word entrusts me with it, saying,”Here. Share it!” What I do next, with that Word, is the stewarding. Will I hide it in my journal? Will it be tucked away in my cluttered memory? Will it be lost in the weeds of the field? How will I handle this valuable treasure?
Spending time down at the Potter’s House, listening, learning the feel of the clay in my hands; trying to be certain I recognize the instructions given, all must be purposeful.
I want to be a good steward of this craft. I want to allow it to flow freely as it is given freely to me.
So, the beautiful flowing stories that come out of this time spent with the Master Potter, will have worked their way through me and come forth having been purified by fire.