If I painted you a picture, if I was able to illustrate using my words by telling a story would you understand
If the brushes that I used, were used and worn out could you still tell what it was I was trying to say
Words can paint a story, but sometimes words can have a deeper meaning than what was trying to be painted
The stories that I have to tell, may not always be the prettiest but they are the narritive of my life
I can try to explain, a lot of joys but also the pain that this life has dealt me
Sometimes I don’t want to show my hand, because so many times it feels like a gamble
Other days my thoughts are right out there on my sleeve
I have played poker, and my chips are all in but my poker face leaves much to be desired
Do you want to share your thoughts with others, if you don’t think anyone can win
Do you care that no matter how messy the circumstances, it still tells a story
Not just any story, but yours and there can be healing from your brokenness
So many people have tried to tell others stories, but they are afraid to tell their own
If I couldn’t find a release by telling parts of my story, then I would feel like I was trapped inside a prison
If I didn’t have a way to share my heart, I think my heart would stay broken and in pieces
If I hadn’t found love in Jesus, I wouldn’t know how to love others
If I should tell my story, then here it is and I don’t want to hide any longer