Each leaf was a brush stroke, my Dad said while in the mountains last week. To hear him make this comment lifted my spirit so. A few short months ago, he would not have even noticed. AND in years past, he would say that the leaves in the yard were just as beautiful, no need to ride to the mountains. Then I began to think about the word "stroke". How could a work mean a beautiful stroke of color or the terrible health issue my Dad has been facing. Stroke is a mark. Just as God touched color to each leaf, the stroke had touched Dad's brain and made its mark. Words are revealing. Words teach. Words inspire. Words describe. Words explain. Listen to the words you hear. Allow them to minister to you with their inspiration, explanation and wisdom. Trust words to make your life more artistic.
1 comment:
Ihad not thought of words in quite that way....thank you for a new insight! Lovely!
Your words ministered to me...
Trish
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