Self-Speak

Meandering Reflections and Self-Speak

In the early morning light I look for you. I hear your voice in the rustling wind and in the cool breeze. Tears glide effortlessly from the heartache in my soul down my cheeks on their journey to nowhere. They leave invisible scars on my face as they etch a chasm between who I was and who I am. As the valley becomes deeper I am amazed that the world doesn’t see. I look in the mirror and wonder who she is who looks back at me.

Will my broken heart ever be healed or will the chasm split me in to?

Believe? I must believe…in weakness I am strong and in vulnerability I have power to conquer…self-speak. I must self-speak. I am more than a conqueror. I am a woman who is perfectly loved by One who knows me better than I know myself. One who walks with me through the haze of life and knows the pain of death.

Self-speak…Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.

Universe, know! I choose to believe that these tears will be the silent prayers that my heart and breath are unable to pray. I believe that they are treasured gifts to the One who knows my soul.

Should the chasm of tears break me in half?

The Healer of hearts will restore me. I hear it in the breath of the wind. The trees have told me so.

Author: Jana Horton

I write to soothe my soul. I empty my words onto napkins, scraps of paper, receipts... anything really. When I was very young my mom told me to stop writing on my hand. I never did. I write on it to this day. I’ve lost so many scraps of Self on soggy napkins; I’ve yet to lose my hand. The words I scribble there may wash off, but since they are inscribed in my soul, once they are released, from heart to hand, I am allowed to let them go.

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