Truth without varnish.

My hands can't wrap themselves around the words that want to be written down. They can't contain and piece the words together to make logical sentences. My heart has so much that it wants to pour out. To tell people. To express. But the fear stops me before the my fingers can trace the words out..... How do I express it? The deseration. The fear. The cold clammy hands of gladness that wraps itself around my heart. Strange way of putting it. How can gladness be cold and clammy?? When it brings something that is needed so desperately you can't breathe without it but when it comes all you want to do is scream from the shock. My body tenses up from the breach of silence. I don't know what to expect. Should I pray first.....perhaps God will reveal to me the contents before I peruse the supposed "truth." My doubts play on the jungle gym of my heart.....running down the slide......up the stairs.......I can't catch them and put them away. "The Lord knows the way through the wilderness.....all I have to do is follow." This brilliant mind can't be brilliant without drama. Yet, it hates drama. It drowns, suffocates in it. It causes the pain only to become more readily available to the angel. Puts it so readily into her grasp. Perhaps these words are only the rantings of a crazed girl. Or just a horrible writer. I'm sure no one reads these. These are just words going out into the archives of my past......never to be read or understood by anyone.......

"You will travel through the valley of rejection, you will reside in the land of the mourning mists and you will find your home, though it will not be where you left it." - The Starter Wife