If I have nothing good to say, I say nothing at all.

I’ve had smooth sails. I’ve reached a cruising altitude and I enjoyed it in silence. I must have started 20 drafts of posts. But none saw the light of day. Nothing seemed relevant or felt wise enough to share these days. 

The last book I read shook me to my core and made me reflect on my own childhood. It made me feel a bit on edge and untamed. A little sad. A bit furious. And a little grateful. On the bright side, I applied quite a few refreshed parenting techniques on J. and they worked. Now I only ought to slowly keep at it. With courage, focus and kindness. 

Unrelated, tonight Conrad went to bed early. After the bedtime routine, Jackie wanted to stay up as late as me. I told her I’m going to read the Bible. “I want to listen to you read” she said. I was tired and I wanted her asleep already. But I open my Bible and my eyes fell on Psalm 139,

…For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.
¹⁷ How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
    How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ Were I to count them,
    they would outnumber the grains of sand—
    when I awake, I am still with you.

So I read this to her. She looked at me and asked: “is this story about me too?” Indeed it is.

The Psalms made me feel heard, understood, it explained the world to me, validated my feelings, gave me a voice. I am who I am because my parents and grandma opened the Bible for me. Then God met me.