When Words Don’t Come
by Jasmine C. Gatti
“Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether”
I open my blinds. Through the backlit openings, I admire the verdant kaleidoscope outside. Dry leaves swept to high piles on the curb attract my dogs to frolic. A leaf drifts across the window where my writing desk sits. I can’t escape the banging of the construction on the street.
The nudges of two wet black noses underneath my desk insist on play and back rubs. I nurture a blind Schnoodle with a broken heart valve. Meanwhile, my newly adopted rescue Yorkie takes strides to mark the house.
My thoughts race to caregiving. What do the family and dogs need for breakfast? My new computer is on the fritz. The distractions of cars and speeding bikes whirl by. A mother pushes a stroller.
The Lord speaks to my heart, “Shut it out. Close the door. Then open the blinds to your heart. Go where silence allows us to speak to each other before the household awakens. Then write to me for I know the words even before you do.”
The words are inside me and he put them there. I just need to “mine” them and mind them. I pretend I am a miner preparing to dig for malachite in the Queen Cooper mine. The bull horn has sounded. I descend the shaft to the dimly lit, still-aired tunnels of writing. At the end of the day, I excavate that special gem, placed there by him for me to discover and claim. I have opened my heart blinds.
Help me to listen intently to your still, small voice. All day and in all that I do, whether it is the God-ordained role you’ve assigned; to care, to give, to write or another task. Help me trust in the words I write or say with you in my heart. Amen.
Jasmine C. Gatti is the author of lay and technical articles, hospice clinician, and speaker about caregiving and medicine (churches, care facilities, panels) educated at Johns Hopkins University and Georgetown U. School of Medicine. Caregiver to parents, children and dogs and to her husband’s family. She lives in Maryland. Her website is Writeinstantly.org.
Lovely topic of “mining” what God has for us in the stillness of waiting on him. I know I struggle with being quiet before him, my beloved Savior.