Have you ever had this kind of day when you just have nothing to say?
People call you writer, and today, you don't know how.
You're staring at a blank sheet, the cursor blinking.
Words are lost.
None is coming out.
So you put everything down, and set out to look for words.
You ask your father, pet your dog, and hug your sweetheart.
You take a bath, listen to music, and go for a long walk.
Words in the sky.
Words in the air.
Words in bells ringing.
There are words in Chai tea and Panini.
Of course, there are tons of words in a bookstore.
But nothing seems enough.
You step in the chapel, your shoes tapping.
You walk, listening to dull echoing.
Closer and closer, you come before Him.
Your eyes upon Him, the Source of all words.
You take a bow, your knee touches the ground.
You lift your head unto Him then sit down.
You see how Jesus is bare, wide open.
His arms outstretched, his body bleeding.
But He is there, dying in glory.
He gazes dearly, adoringly.
Oh, He is filled with love, honesty, majesty!
And in its depth, there are words brimming.