The Saddest Words....

Ah, writers.... we love our phrases, don't we? Almost cliched some of them, but....how else can we describe things? Perhaps some of us more ameteur humans, us inexperienced children - perhaps we think that we can show it, that any amount of words can replace that phrases that so aptly describes something.....

Do you know what it's like to sob? To feel those gut-wrenching, frame-shaking screams that are too broken to even make noise? Do you know what that's like, do you have any idea? have you experienced it?

I have. Many times. I have felt that storm inside me, so strong I can't make a sound.

yesterday, I experienced what it was like to weept like that through sorrow.

Oh, dear Reader, it is very different from crying in anger. The despair, the loss, that scream that reaches for answers it knows it won't get..... It is so very different.  One could get lost in it. One could never escape it. One could say it was like a knife twisted in a chest.

and there's that phrase. Writers, do you understand what that means? Have you felt that sudden ache - that breathlessness as you realise you miscalculated, as you realise that you have made an irreparable error somewhere along the way

It is most definitely a knife.

And friends? There is no other phrase that can quite describe it.

"Happy is the man whose mouth brings him no grief, 
who is not stung by remorse for sin.
Happy is the man whose conscience does not reproach him, 
who has not lost hope." 
-- Sirach 14:1-2

And I am assuredly not happy.

Oh merciful Lord who offers a way of repentence! Who is kind enough to guard his children from doing wrong! Forgive me my sins. teach me your ways, keep me in your love.

I....don't know if I will add more to this. I don't know which blog this belongs on. But....

Oh, his goodness in keeping me from going too far - his mercifulness in giving me a chance.

let my pride be broken, let me anger be cooled. let me show God in me.

If I sing but don't have love,

I waste my breath with every song

I bring an empty voice, a hollow noise...

If I speak with a silver tongue,

Convince a crowd but don't have love,

I leave a bitter taste with every word I say.

If I give to a needy soul

But don't have love, then who is poor?

It seems all the poverty is found in me.

Words are my weapons. I learnt that ages ago with my brother. What I forget is that the knives I handle so casually, others are not so used to being cut by. Some people are still soft - some people are still alive. I forget, and in that I sin. I sin and I can only ask for forgiveness. I cannot apologise enough - I can never apologise enough.

I pray I never do. I pray that that anguish - that knife - I pray it is a thorn in my side, ever to remind me of my mistakes. 

I pray to be a saint. That is my prayer. I pray that the Blessed Mother will pray for me and guide me as she did her Son. 

....suddenly I wonder what exactly it is that I am praying for. I thank them! But I fear.

Oh my friends, my readers....guard your tongue. Guard your friends. Know what matters to you and hold that close. Never be too proud. Never scorn warnings from your friends. Never ignore chastisement from the Lord.

if you do, it will go worse and you will be broken without rememdy; to quote my father's favourite verse.

Thank you Lord. Thank you for your mercy.