I haven’t wanted to write from a place of darkness. Yet I’ve seemed so much in darkness. I have wanted to bless only, with my words, even through processing pain, and treating tough issues that unearth irrational hatreds, the kinds which make absolute sense from a wounded perspective — but I want to heal through my wounds, and not speak from them. I want to speak from restoration, and not from the place of pain.
David did not always wait until he had beautiful things to say, though, and maybe my aim is unreasonably altruistic. Maybe sometimes we need to flail, even in public, and maybe the people who see it will be blessed in the end for having done so, even if I am not communicating an entirely positive message, in the modern traditional sense. Maybe we use a smoothed out, slappy-faced duck billed platypus to infiltrate Nazi France, and the boys can go back home, owng to retrograde cheeseburger buoyancy.
Who knows?
