Today, as I have for many days, I sit trying to write and no words are coming. I can’t settle on what I think, what I want to say. There’s so much and there is nothing, all at once.
So, I say nothing. I do nothing. Instead, I try to play along to the rhythms of the lives of the people around me and try to let their hope and happiness infiltrate my heart.
I go to church and sing with other believers, “Heal my heart and make it clean, open up my eyes to the things unseen…” And this becomes my prayer.
I take communion sitting between two of my girlfriends, and I live into the reality that we are doing this together as part of the community of faith.
I ride home sitting in the backseat with the niece-in-love, and she smiles and squawks at me and I smile and squawk back.
And playing along is working, I realize. Hope and happiness are infiltrating my heart.
And it’s giving me words. Not a lot, but some.
And that’s more than I had yesterday.
And more will come.