Thoughts from Seattle.

I write. Because words are on my heart, running wild and free through my mind, dancing through my dreams, swirling through my thoughts.

It's a huge part of how I talk to God. In poetic sentences. Reaching. Searching. Always trying to express what runs deep and fast, a current stopping for no obstacles in its path.

... and because of my own imperfections, my own flaws, my own bumps and bruises... it flows imperfectly. But it doesn't matter. For He is the best interpreter, and knows me fully. He is grace.

But because you, the perceiver, have your own set of imperfections, your own flaws, your own bumps and bruises from the blows of life... you read imperfectly. and so do I.

There is such beauty in this. Because God works in the imperfect. In our imperfection, there is an opportunity for God-breathed beauty and life that infuses hope and energy that our words alone never would have been able to sustain. God uses our feeble efforts for His glory.

The detriment is found when the imperfect prose is felt through an imperfect heart that translates an imperfect meaning... and words hurt. pierce. wound.

We owe grace. We owe the possibility of our own misreading. We owe understanding and forgiveness.

Sometimes it's simply semantics. Sometimes it's cloudy vision. Sometimes it's life experiences.

What if we approached words... in all their forms... as a perspective to be gained, a view to be seen. A heart to be heard.

My imperfect prose is waiting to be redeemed. It's waiting to be that perfect offering of praise. It's waiting to be offered to the One who defines perfect, and can't wait to be praised by His sons and daughters. In person. and for eternity.

Can you imagine that day? I long for that day. When words no longer need to be measured. When they no longer need to be held back. No more biting of the tongue, for what the tongue offers will always be pleasing to Christ. Caution thrown to wind, for there will be nothing to be cautious about. Safety. Reverence. Complete abandonment. Freedom.

For all will be to the honor and glory of Him who created us.

Today, in beautiful Seattle, surrounded by beautiful women and the colors of fall... I am thankful for grace, words, and the beauty that comes when both of those combine.

Love,
Lyss