I have the ugliest handwriting on the block. And I know that. I don’t need anyone else to tell me that and in attempting to write a romantic letter, if ever; it would definitely be a failure. However when I flip through them in my journal, it gives me nothing but great pleasure, pain and intrigue.
The shadow of time is slowly caving in on me. This year the world didn’t celebrate new years and my family didn’t celebrate Christmas, which makes this one slightly more stressful, with the lost of significant others.
The ugly handwriting fails me not and tells me of the pain that I had to go through in one of the darkest times this year, gained friendship, and the death of it. Accusations, harsh words, hatred.
I’ve caused a lot of pain too. Lost love. Wrong values. Bad judgment and decisions that have left people in depression, pain and even regret.
I’ve also been treated with grace by so many around me. Im contemplating naming these people but perhaps it isn’t wise as I may miss out those that may have given me grace without my awareness. My friends and family who’ve been there when I was ‘mistreated’ at church, work and even when I had secrets I couldn’t share with anyone else..
Backpacking beautiful Thailand is one that was written with so much care, at guesthouses, the lounge at my stay when I was alone, in a bus on the way to the next destination, even on the floor as I cried once. It’s something that means so much to me and yet so few can share this experience.
To grasp a whole year in my hands feels like standing in front of a work of art and describing it all at a go. You see, the only calculated achievement or lack of it was that I read slightly more than half of the books I had wanted to read.
It’s all in this one big feeling I have right now stuck in my throat and is welling up in my eyes. It’s not quite a feeling of pain and or joy..
Sometimes its great not to be able to describe or journal something. And that the feeling stuck in my throat is something that no one can duplicate from me.
The good and bad thing about going into a new year is that I can never anticipate what will happen. I thought I was going to be shivering with excitement that ill be headed off for Christmas, as it turns out the feelings are opposite now.
You’ve been good to me. The silent listener of all my moans and groans. Whilst my letters to you will taper off as I shall indeed be busy stuffing my face, thank you for being crazy enough to read my letters, yet nice enough not to hate me.
In all soberness and sadness I wish I wasn’t in right now, from the intimate spaces of my heart, I want to wish you merry Christmas in my mother tongue..
Praise God the giver of life who somehow sees me worthy to be His. I hope that you and I will see that this Christmas
If it weren't for the rocks in its bed, the stream would have no song.
yours in need of a shot of christmas cheer,