A Gift For When You Are Tongue-Tied

We are a wordy people.  Spoken aloud or written in solitude, those intricate combinations of vowels and consonants spill out and over, trip us up, magnify our majestic Savior, encourage and bring hope, or cause us to hit a wall.  They can destroy like a wielded sword or be the sweetest salve on tender wounds.

But sometimes there  .  are  .  no  .  words.

We dig deep and try to find them, but they are not to be found.  Illusive they have become.  Our wells brim over with deepest sorrow or the most profound joy ever.  And we look for a way to express where we truly are.

But tongue-tied we have become.

It seems that only the most articulate among us can harvest those gems, the gifts that beg to be spoken, articulated, shared, offered up.  The rest of us are left to simply be still.

And savor all that's truest in our hearts.  

And lift up hands that are heavily laden with some of the most profound, awesome emotions we've experienced on this journey here on earth.

For those of us who have not been gifted with the tongues of angels or a gold-encrusted pen, we can only offer our feeble musings as a living sacrifice to the One who sees those unformed, unexpressed thoughts and emotions that whirl and swirl, that end up permanently engraved on our hearts.

For His eyes only.

And when all is said and done, we understand once again that more often than not, it can be quite a magnificent offering to let our words be few {Ecclesiastes 5:2}.

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