Santa must have deemed me a really nice girl this year, because starting in about May, I began getting gifts every day.
They weren’t wrapped in shiny papers. They weren’t perfectly packaged up in tiny boxes. They weren’t tied up with magnificent bows.
They were gifts of words.
My own words, finally finding a home on this blog. They had been lively and rich once, long ago. But they became orphans for a long time, being shifted around from half-finished journals to draft emails. They were stuck in the basement of my brain while I went to law school, which suppressed every creative fiber in my being. They are the words that tell my story.
And there were the words of my readers. Readers whose words make me laugh. And show support. And challenge my assumptions. Their words are the comfortable carpet my feet sink into, the vibrant art that colors this, the home for my words.
And there were the words of other bloggers. Women and men who wrap their words up in lusciousness. Their words drip with humor, hang heavy with pain, transport me to childhood memory, explode off the screen and call me to action. Their words are like a perfect salted caramel truffle: both sweet and bitter; a delight of which I never tire.
And there were the words of those special bloggers who became friends. Friends whose words talk you off a blogging ledge. Words that encourage and words that push you to be better. Words that were lifted up in prayer. Words that understand dreams and frustrations. Their words are my bed of leaves, my blanket of snow, my aquamarine pool, my soft place to land.
If you are reading this post, your words have been one or all of these things to me this year: words I read, treasure, and carry with me every day of the year. Thank you.
May you be blessed with beautiful words at the holidays, and all year long.