Skimming the Deep

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.

Psalm 107:23-24  
Those who go down to the sea in ships, 
Who do business on great waters;
They have seen the works of The Lord
And His wonders in the deep


Ecclesiastes 3:11
He has made everything appropriate in its time.  He has also set eternity in their heart, yet so that man will not find out the work which God has done from the beginning even to the end.  

Meet Me on the Bridge

Welcome to my new little spot! I have something just for you . . .

Madeleine L’Engle wrote in Walking in Water,

“The reader, viewer, listener, usually grossly underestimates his importance. If a reader cannot create a book along with the writer, the book will never come to life . . .

In reading we must become creators, . . . imagining the setting of the story, visualizing the characters, seeing facial expressions, hearing the inflection of voices. The author and the reader know each other; they meet on the bridge of words.”

When I say thank you for reading, I’m saying thank you for meeting me on the bridge, for giving birth to the words that somehow peck forth from my fingers. You make it all come alive and I do not create alone.


So thank you, a thousand times, for coming away with me here. I’ve got a few posts in queue, but have moved some of my favorite posts over from my last blog to get started. Perhaps you’ll enjoy reading my About page for now?

With high hopes for many gaps in my words to find bridges,