Sometimes my thoughts are too much to handle. As I write them, I feel weight. Maybe they wouldn’t weigh as much if I didn’t post them out in space where “who knows?” is reading. But even my journals, that only I have read, have been weighty at times so that’s probably not what I’m burdened with.
The “Whos” in my own “Whoville,” they must be what I’m afraid of. The ones who know me, but also don’t. They don’t get the depths of my heart unless its the right time and place. When they do, I feel like I’m just a little weird. So why do I have this bulging need to write if my thoughts are weighty and, for some, a little weird? There’s something that still wants out.
Writing is an exposing art, if you are writing the truth. Could be I don’t like the truth about me. I’m a dreamer. I’m not content with looking at life from the surface. I like the deep places, but sometimes they’re scary (there’s some yucky, slimy things down deep), or just . . . weighty.
The sea too has some scary things in it and the further you go, the water weighs down, even crushes. It consists of depths which have yet to be discovered and I don’t believe all ever will be. There are “jewels” hidden that have been seen and enjoyed only by the eyes of God.
Is that the way with my heart? Are their jewels there I will never find? Are they there just for Him? Does He find pleasure there? I’ve heard He has set eternity there . . . Is that how deep my heart really goes? So I will never understand it?
Or is it that deep so that I will keep searching?
My thoughts even before I write weigh down and my words are lacking, only skimming the foam of the waves. There is more down under I am unable to mine. With the weight and few words, why write?
In this moment, as I write, I know why.
I mine the depths of a heart that’s never completely been my own. And when you know there’s more to it there’s a reason to keep searching. Have we ever had to be told there’s more?
Eternity is long and to have the joy of seeking His treasure for just as long gives me courage to keep facing my deep yet incomplete thoughts. After all, the more I dive, the more I discover, not of myself, but of the Captain of the Sea.