For the first time in a long time this pen feels strange in my hand.
For the first time in a very long time I feel like I don’t have the words for this.
I feel like I don’t have the words to tell you that I am trying to be strong for the person who has always been my strength.
That I’m trying hard to relearn what it means to be strong. I’m trying to relearn strength.
That although this past week has been tumultuous, that I’ve cried and prayed and been angry and brokenhearted in the past seven days, I have not put the pen to these pages because a tiny part of me is beginning to doubt that these words can actually fix anything.
That I can’t fix this.
That I am trying hard to know I’m not the healer of this, and while I know it I am trying to put my faith in the Hands that have healed the world. I am trying hard to believe that those Hands I love so much are healing this person who is an integral part of my world in a way that my words will never be capable of.
That I am so unutterable thankful to you for the ways you have helped me this week. For chicken soup and chicken dumplings and chicken pot pies. For car rides and phone calls and pink flowers and the million ways you have poured your love into my house this week.
That I am so weak. In all my talk of walking on and being better and pushing forward and loving harder I began to mistakenly believe I was a little bit invincible. I began to believe I was Wonder Woman. And I realize the good Lord didn’t make me to wear a “W” on my chest. But this doesn’t mean He didn’t make me wonderfully.
That my heart is so full of love and sorrow and a deep desire to be better tomorrow that this pen feels ridiculously flimsy in my hand and I feel like I will never have the words to tell you my heart.
That because of who I am and who has taught me strength and the ways I have learned to love this world, I cannot help but try to find the words to tell you anyway.
-Jessi Sanders 2012