Words - held, captive, waiting to be chosen, waiting to be free. They want to be chosen, tasted, sprinkled over and savoured. Right now they wait, hoping, surrounded by others in the same place. Secret jealousies and secret fears. Oh to be seen, to stand out, to be called out and known - the anticipation and the fear. The longing to be explored, to become, to have all the colours and shades of yourself exposed in safe places by the Master word-smith. The cutting apart was painful. It's been comforting to be here in this container. But now, now I want to flu. I want a world of my own to play a part in.
Of course I see the parallel - that how I so closely identify with the words' longing is really my own - my anticipation, my need, my fear.
I know God is working - it's too much and not enough all at the same time. It's comfortably uncomfortable - I want to read the words from the end of the book. I want to hurry hurry hurry - yet I remember the pain of the cutting away. I remember the fear of this new place and shape and I plead for Him to be gentle and slow.
prompt from a Story 101 call
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