A friend came to this blog looking for my words recently, and found only an info page. . . . She came looking for my words. . . . my words?
And here I sat. Where I've been now for sometime.
Pressed in. Shut down. Bound from beginning to end.
My words, though dormant, strain against my chest.
Joy's gentle affirmation re-spun itself through the filtering system of my brain. She's right.
And so this diary (of sorts) begins. I've been designed by God to bear his image. Be a reflection of his face in a dark, hurting world. Since that is so, the binding has to go. And trembling, I start.
I started, Joy . . . I just started.
