From the time I was small, toddling around in my diaper babbling “Bob Barker” or “Go Cats” with roaring blue Kentucky fans in the background, words have poured from my lips and fingertips effortlessly. Yet, all changed six days ago.
Ambulance sirens pierced the brisk December air as my eyes were pried wide by the paramedic, screaming, “Alisha! Can you hear me?!?!” Although, all words remained locked in my brain with the key thrown away for days. Nevertheless, as I battled in ICU with my partially frozen face to form each letter and word, Jesus taught me of their preciousness and weight.
Countless verses are found throughout the Bible regarding our tongue and the importance of words I fully intended to focus on, but the Holy Spirit has instead prompted me to share a message beyond mere do’s and don’ts.
For sometimes in this life, there are simply no words for the depth of our pain and heartache. Only tears. And dear friend, take heart. That is okay.
You do not need to beat yourself up for thinking or feeling a certain way. Let it out… The anger… The questions… The fears… The crushed dreams… Tears are a language our God sees and speaks and rather than watching from afar, He weeps with us. Trust me, I know as I lay paralyzed again from my third stroke in just ten months.
Life isn’t fair. Our situations do not always change. The healing may not come. Everything isn’t always “okay”. Even still, we can cling to hope. For this world isn’t our home.