Words Like Puddles

I am thankful for the gift of words and the art of writing

Photo by Aleksey Malinovski on Unsplash

Lord, thank you for the gift of words — beautiful, descriptive, malleable, playful, powerful words. Thank you for giving me a creative mind — a mind that enjoys playing with text like Legos — stacking and pressing them together until things click, seeing how they assemble in new ways, building with blocks of language.

Let my voice — a gift in itself — be the gift that I give back to you and keep on giving. Help me to protect it from all that would see it hushed — both external and internal agents of doubt, fear, and criticism.

Help me to use my words. Let me paint pictures and sing songs with them. Let me make the letters dance together — duets and great ensembles of characters.

I want to do your world’s beauty justice. I want to be able to write of your love and generosity. May your gift to me be a gift that I give back to you by using it — the superior side of re-gifting.

I thank you for the gift of words. They are fun playthings. I splash in words like puddles. I catch them on my tongue like snowflakes. They keep me company like such good pets — pets that I tickle under the chin with each stroke of my pen or with each press of my keyboard.

Thank you for the gift of words — words that I can string together like jewelry, weave like tapestry, mix like alchemy — the new whole always something very different.

I love to play with words, and I thank you for putting this love within me. I want to give words back to you — words of joy and thanks thrown up in prayer like confetti.

I am so grateful for this gift. Help me not to doubt it. Sometimes I try to hide it under my bed of anxiety. Sometimes I fear this gift isn’t mine or is imaginary. Often I worry my gift is an illusion — or a lot of nothing that has been wrapped up to look fancy. Sometimes I get discouraged that my gift isn’t quite as nice as his or hers: My bow is a little crooked. The wrapping paper is a bit faded. And, look, see right here? There’s a dent in the box.

Don’t let me doubt my gift. Help me to use it with kind and humble pride. Don’t let it be the toy I won’t share with my friends, or the ugly sweater I’m too embarrassed to…