When someone shows up at your front door with armloads of groceries, pumpkins for the kids to decorate, toys and an offer to use their home exercise equipment anytime: words are not enough.
When you invite friends over for dinner and they bring with them more groceries than the meal you’ve prepared: words are not enough.
When friends who are, themselves, struggling to make ends meet load a box with food from their pantry and deliver it to your house: words are not enough.
When you’re offered canned goods from a family’s personal store: words are not enough.
When your family doesn’t hesitate to send you hundreds of dollars, more than once, so you can pay rent, afford car repairs and pay bills: words are not enough.
When the UPS man drops two boxes full of food and an envelope with cash on your doorstep: words are not enough.
When you can laugh and smile even when you’re not sure what tomorrow holds: words are not enough.
When you look around and see a roof over your head, two smiling and healthy kids, a man whose love for you runs deep laboring side by side with you, and countless blessings that make you feel rich in all the right things: words are not enough.
When words written centuries ago burn in your soul as you read them today and you know–really know–you aren’t alone in this world: words are not enough.
When it rains one day and the sun reappears the next day: words are not enough.
Words are not enough to tell you what I’ve felt, seen and heard this week. For a writer, that’s frustrating. But also humbling. Because for some things in life, there are no words. At least not the spoken kind. For some things, your soul speaks in a language all its own and though you can’t translate the message into your native tongue, you know what’s being said. And you agree. It makes you want to shout and sing and write poetry and paint and tell people what you’ve experienced. And when you try to put it into words, you just don’t get it quite right.
Today, words are not enough.
And I’m okay with that.