words

There is an article in Engage magazine written by somebody that looks a lot like me. Okay. It is me. And, though it may be a surprise to some who know me, the words that populate that particular canvas did not come easily. Like a skittish kitten, they pasted themselves to the corner closet of my mind and stubbornly refused to budge.

Lining words into an orderly row can be a harrowing ordeal in the best of situations. Sometimes, I am afraid to march them out and line them up because I am unsure of what they might choose to say.

We lead a wordily eclectic life in the best of times. Surrounded by different languages and cultures, words can become fair weather friends who may or may not show up when you need them most.

This week has been particularly full of language in its many different forms but in the midst of it all, I had the privilege of taking a walk around Memento Park. Communist statues and busts, artwork, represent that period in our world history. The observer is transported back to a different era.

Surrounded by the visual representation of an ideology and a reality that have dramatically impacted my life, my faith, and my family, I found myself speechless.