Expressing the Inexpressible

“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”

This quote has been on my mind.

As a writer, it is important to fill and empty the heart.  To express one's self. 

I'm currently stuck in a place where my heart is full yet I feel unable to write.  I will write what I can.  

Sometimes silence conveys what the heart cannot.  Sometimes the silence between two individuals speaks volumes.  For good or bad.  When I feel too much I am always at a great loss of words.  I can only hope you read my heart well. 

Sometimes music takes the place of silence.  Music gives our soul a voice when words fail. 

Death is a path we all must take. On the other side of the curtain is eternity, and we each have decisions to make about what that will look like for us.

The aftermath, though, of this path for those who remain is filled with questions, pain, anger, uncertainty, and almost always, regret. 

I have run the course of emotion this past week.  I have faltered my way through the days longing for clarity.  I have understood a pain heretofore unknown.  I have not known my place. I have held my tongue. I have said too much. 

Grief is a process that you either experience or observe.  If you are an observer, there is precious little you can do for the experiencer.  Your task as an observer is to show up, consistently, and embrace the journey.  

It is largely a thankless job.  You will be called upon without notice and you may be dropped without consideration. 

Grief is long, it ebbs and flows, it can be all consuming or a dull, buried ache that manifests randomly.

The one who walks through grief does not know the way. 

The one who observes.  This one.  Stood before holy God and vowed to have, to hold, to love, to honor, to cherish. 

The one who observes will hold your hand and walk through the darkness. With you. Although I also do not know the way.  

For now.  Music.  

The Grey Rain Curtain

I haven't written in ever so long....

So many thoughts I have wanted to express and not quite the right moments to capture and pin them down.  

I am longing for a little computer of my own so that I can write to my heart's content without sharing or making special request. As it is, it's extra work to get the opportunity to use one.  Have you heard of a thing called Fortnite?  It's just fine, mommies make sacrifices all the time.  But do you know that I type all this on my phone?!  

It is quiet and calm tonight.  It is cold and dark.  And I daresay a little lonely.  But in this environment I can find rest for my body, and for my soul. 

I struggle greatly with getting rest.  I feel tired most of the time.  I think it is, in part, due to the major sinus issues I have developed the past six months.  I feel my heartbeat in my ear all the time. I can't ever hear what people are saying.  I can't breathe through my nose. This leads to very poor sleep.  

It's ideal right now that it is the perfect weather for hibernation.  I'm rather happy to hole up and introvert.  I just came across a reminder of what one of my favorite pharmacist buddies said to me in late 2013.  Jim said, "No one will ever make the mistake of pegging you as an introvert." It's true, I usually get energy from being with others, but currently I feel like I could enjoy introverting for a bit.

The exception to this is family, chosen or blood.  No one pours into me or fills my love bucket like my family.  My aunties ran me ragged in Atlanta for four days straight last weekend.  It was nonstop talking, concerts, puzzles, baking, eating, talking, walking.  And I inhaled every moment of every single day.  It was so refreshing.  It was just what I didn't know I needed.  It solidified my firm belief that my people live in the south.  Strangers just pulled me into a hug and welcomed me enthusiastically.  Yes, these are my people and one day I will leave the northeast behind me.

We're approaching a new year.  Do you wonder what it holds?  I do.  I wonder all the time what is ahead.  I know my last baby will leave elementary years behind.  I know my oldest will begin his last year of middle school.  I know I will turn 39.  And that is about all that is certain. And, frankly, that is not even certain.  I might die before three weeks of the new year have passed. 

Death is sobering, is it not? A voice is silent. Eyes no longer sparkle. Love is no longer read in a face. 

It is an end to a period of time that a soul has occupied a body here on Earth, and a moment when that soul finds itself in a new place.  For the believer, that is heaven...

"The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.....  White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise."

All our days are numbered, dear readers, and there is not a blessed thing we can do to change it. We do well to look to it.  To understand that all our purposes here are directed toward the end.  To the day the grey curtain rolls back.  

I hope you will think about it this week.  Who are the people you love?  Why don't you tell them?  Why don't you send them a card?  Why don't you buy them a coffee just because? Maybe leave them a jar of pickles on their doorstep?  All the goofy, sweet and wonderful things that make people feel treasured. Do these.  

Before the grey curtain starts to roll back....

Before Aslan steps into view....

...and you know that nothing that you experienced on Earth will compare to what you now know to be true.....

Eternity is where life is.