words

I know that I said I was done with blogging and that I needed to live life.  Well, I'm living life.  But I miss blogging.  I miss it immensely.  It's like it's in my blood-- the need to write I mean.  I guess you could call it a God-inspired passion.  It's something I do naturally, comes easily.  Like I don't even have to think about it.  My fingers flow across the keyboard as if it's a familiar rhythm, and the words in my head are like lyrics to my favorite songs--  they're not going anywhere.  And I have to get them out, I just have to.  Because maybe my words will bring a smile to someone's face, tears to someone's eyes, a question to someone's heart.  And maybe that question will leave them in a search for something more, Someone bigger than you and me and everything we think is significant.

I've worried about comments and followers and inferiority long enough.  My words may not sound like a critiqued novel.  I might not speak in romantic language that causes your heart to sigh dreamily.  But if I can't ramble, if I can't write, it's like I might as well not exist.  If I can't tell about my passions, my failures, my heartaches, my struggles, then why am I here?

I am here to write words.  I am here to speak them.  Maybe someone will read them.  Maybe someone will listen.  And my heart spilled on paper will not be in vain.