I don’t know why I’m doing this. I think it’s therapeutic. Worship music wasn’t touching me in quite the way that I prefer it to, so I had to ramble. Here at the keyboard and the WordPress user interface. About writing. Specifically my writing, my gift from GOD, how HE uses it to speak to me. And how I wish to get to the point that I can use it to speak to others about HIM.
Some rather bold, raw ideas approached me for this as I walked 10 feet from the kitchen to the chair to begin typing. Some of them, I thought, ‘How could I ever post THAT?’ I do not know where this will go.
Wordcrafting. My new word. (I make up words all the time.) I don’t write; I am not a writer; and I am not an author. I am a wordcrafter. Words. Words and letters. Taking them in, writing them, making them into psychedelic art. Words. Letters. Oh, and I’m dyslexic. Those blocks in the image above: I saw them and immediately saw “LOVE.” Anyway, when I wrote poetry (which ability may, indeed, return), every comma, every letter was placed upon the page to create an effect, the words were designed to speak multiple things to multiple people. One’s interpretation spoke more about himself than it did about the poems. Fiction, too, had hidden references to things that, if you noticed them, spoke about you. Crafty, I am, because crafty, I had to become, to survive. Now my craftiness is utilized in Godly art. The pain has become its own BLESSING.
I had intended to make it much longer, and talk about how some of my writing comes from my fingertips, and it NEVER passes through my mind in a recognizable fashion to me. I see it and begin thinking about it as it appears on the screen. I usually weep, because it has so much meaning for me. This is one of my deepest desires: that my wordcrafting could impact others in a meaningful fashion, in a fashion that would lead them to healing, and to a closer walk with the GOD of the Universe. (That’s a pretty good place to end it: GOD.)