Talking with my hands
I am so different from my husband. His words pour forth from his mouth with eloquence. I stumble over my words and feel my mind spinning as I try to formulate a sentence and get out what I really mean. I rarely talk in large groups because by the time I've managed to pull together the thread of what I want to say the moment has passed and the subject has changed. I've come to accept this about myself and pray for grace in difficult social situations. The way I like to talk is with my hands...not with gesticulations to punctuate the words flowing from my mouth, but with the things my hands can create. I like to write, fingers talking using the keyboard as the medium. I like to paint, the hues expressive across the canvas. I like to make music, hammers hitting strings, melody speaking to the heart. I like to cut, mold, carve, sketch, write my thoughts. I talk all the time, just not with my tongue.
|My unfinished canvas.|