Sept. 2022
It was usually quiet, well behaved. It had learned its place long ago. It didn’t like to think of herself in those terms. She valued freedom and expression and joy. Quietness was safe at times, especially times like this. Trouble lurked in expression. So many unwritten rules to confuse and silence the Voice. Innuendos taken where none were given. Silence was her homeland. Where she could flourish, or at least not be silenced by the ones who believed their voices were weightier. No one could blame her thoughts. But, the Voice was frequently accompanied by trouble. Trouble that seemed to linger everywhere. Ready to pounce unaware and crush an intent that was well meaning. Words twisted beyond recognition. When words were silenced, it was felt in the throat. But unspoken, they caused no external harm. Silence was destructive, but only to herself. Save the others. Such a silly idea, sacrificing the Voice for the comfort of others. Each word left unspoken taught the Voice she wasn’t valued. She knew deep down that was the truth, reinforced it with each unspoken word. They wouldn’t understand anyhow. They were capable of taking beautiful, healing words and mangling them into hurtful, painful words that sliced and impacted relationships. Harmed them, actually. All she wanted was to speak simply…sweetly. Healing and encouraging words. Why were things so difficult?
She longed to sing of His greatness, the beauty of His creation. To exclaim the wonder of His glory. If she prayed silently and kept her thoughts to herself, she could do that. She could silently sing of the sun glistening off the water like millions of diamonds scattered across the water’s surface. She could put Voice to the sensations of the sun’s warmth on her shoulders. The smell of the Spring forest coming to life and the the smell of the same forest in decay come Autumn. The Voice had been used for such good. The Voice loved to speak encouragement, offering hope where sometimes none was visible. The Voice had been present for many deaths, soothing words to families saying goodbye…letting go. Words to the one dying of consolation and tenderness, recognizing the sacredness of the moment.
But, when her words were twisted, it was as if her heart itself was twisted. She would not have that. She had a Voice. Was not afraid to use it usually. But, too many times it was not that way. Today, her heart was heavy and her Voice silent. Beaten into a corner by one contorting her words and creating something where there was nothing. It seemed hateful. Hurtful. Why? Had she done something wrong? Even her loved one pulled away. Silencing her once again with his words. She would not contend with such a force. She was no match for it. Her throat ached. Was it an ache because it longed for expression? What would it say? It did not know. Silence had gripped it like so many times before. So dramatic. Just stop, she told herself. Stand up. Take your place. State your purpose. Claim your Voice and its desire to be heard.
The Lake knew her pain. She often swam in its crystal clear waters. The Lake always accepted her just the way she was. She would swim in its beauty, experiencing a freedom she didn’t know on the land where others crowded her out. In the Lake, it was just she. It was she who swam through its lapping waves, taking in the beauty of the sand with its particles reflecting back the sun beams. So brilliant. Just there, offering up themselves without asking anything in return. She was free there. Free to experience every sensation. The coolness of the water on her skin as she entered the lake was invigorating. The sound of silence when she was underwater. It could be deafening and yet, so welcoming. The smell of the pines, warmed by the sun, their fragrance floating on the air as she came out of the water. The sky so blue. It was a heavenly blue. It smiled at the Lake and expressed its delight in her, as well. She felt it all. She sensed all of it coming together, an offering of sorts. An offering to her soul of comfort and beauty. It spoke volumes to her soul. It spoke of silence and rest. She welcomed it, her throat relaxing.
The day would come when she would be free to express herself and be understood. Today was not that day. But, it will come. Of that she is sure.