Words are plentiful, there's no lack. I could find any word I want, find any word needed to describe whatever it is I wish to say.
But at the same time there are not words enough. There is no words for what I'm trying to say.
In order to use the words that are available to say, one must know what one wants to say. And I find, in this human experience, that words build up. Or maybe, rather, its feelings that build up. And we do not know how to speak it, or even how to identify it.
Or perhaps it's fear. Fear of actually knowing what we think, want and feel. Maybe it'll be wrong, maybe it'll be bigger than we think we can handle. Maybe it has the potential to scare us, or make us move from our comfort zone.
Words are big things. You cannot take them back once they are out. They can make something, or they can tear something apart, they can build hope, or ruin dreams.
We must be careful of our words.
The words we use (and even the ones we don't, they speak as well), and the intent behind them. To give your word is a very precious and serious thing, not to be taken lightly.
Words are hard things. They contain our thoughts, feelings-whether they be right or wrong. They are amoral. It is we who make them.
There are so many feelings that they contain.
But sometimes, we don't know what words to use, or what we are trying to place with them.
Sometimes words cannot be used.
And emotion builds, and release needs to be had.
I want to let it out, but it won't come. These things I want to say. Good things, fresh things, things that could bring about change. Comfort to give, and courage to instill. Also, hard things, things needed to be said. But it feels as though there is this invisible blockade up. It won't leave. There is something that won't allow it to.
I want to blurt it. I want to go into an open field and scream it, yell it to the sky. I wish to have that release. To know I am able to say all that I have in me to say.
I want to get on a boat, paddle it out into nowhere, and let to. To let go and cry. To have my tears echo across the sympathetic waves. The lovely waves that have also felt all emotions.
They have roared with anger and frustration, they have cried out in sorrow, sung out in pleasure and joy.
Yes, the glorious sea.
(the sea has never been friendly to man. at most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness)
I don't like the sea, though I respect it.
It is powerful, majestic, sure, confident, emotional.
I am jealous of the sea.
The way it moves freely, the way it openly expresses emotion.
I want to be like the sea.
Contained, disciplined, yet gloriously out of control.
I wish to be more like it.
Though it is out of control, it knows the path it's taking, the course that the Lord has set for it. It has freedom in the plan the Lord has for it. It is able to be emotional because of the confidence in the Lord.
I shall settle for being an audience to this awesome wonder.
I do love the feeling you get when you stand on its shore and look out.
The vastness can be overwhelming, and scary. But at the same time, comforting and magical.
I am reminded of my size in the most glorious way, and wonderfully insignificant I am.
Compared to the sea, I am nothing.
And that puts in my mind, my Creator has everything in hand.