I gather my “Thank You’s” with all their rough edges and push them deep into back pockets, trying to make it all fit.
Mama would cringe at these half-finished sentences.
I falter back with the weight of my words, phrases spilling out and splitting seams. I can’t contain them.
“You. Steadied. My. Ground. A. Little. More. Than. I. Expected…”
I lean forward and catch my balance. Some. Dig in my heels. Arms outstretched, I feel around for more words, syllables and sounds to embody…all this. “I. Was. So. Afraid. Nothing. Would. Change…You. Changed. Everything…And. Now…”
So I can see it all laid out better.
So I can stack and pack gratitude for shipping.
I’m standing still now. Looking, sorting through, rearranging common words like “Yes” and “Open” and “Bisous”….so many “Kisses” in French and English.”
I shift and flip words like puzzle pieces, playing JEOPARDY with God.
finding new value in “Risk.” “Prayer.” “Trust.”
But it’s not a game to me.
This healing and renewing.
This letting go of old chapters, worn and trite.
This crafting and word-smithing of new life.
I trip back. Momentarily. I let God survey the scene
I wait teetering,
for his next move.