Rarely am I speechless.
Even if I’m quiet, I’ve always got a good word (argument, dissertation, endless amounts of Michael Jackson, Prince or 90’s R & B lyrics, Bible verse or free style haiku) ready to go. Yet because of where life has taken me over the last two years, I found myself void of sound. I couldn’t even pray; not vocally. I had to learn how to respond to a cruel world without words.
I heard the word grace a lot.
People told me how I handled things with such grace when I didn’t think I was handling it at all. Grace wasn’t a word I thought of when I was walking through some of the hardest days of my life. I was angry. I was confused. I didn’t know who to trust. I was fearful. And yet the more quiet I became, the more these things became a whisper. Becoming quiet became more of a strength than the “cop out” I once considered it to be. The more I kept my mouth shut, the more my heart could open. The more I resisted the temptation to say anything, the more I could do. The more I did, the more I lived. The more I lived, the more my actions gave life and THAT’S when I could open my mouth.
It was safe again.
I was walking on a new path.
People could get to know the Tasha that was evolving. Continue reading