I don’t write to hear myself talk.  I wish the things I did say were grander, more eloquent, more something.  Instead, we just get me.

It’s not that I don’t like what I say.  Sometimes I think I border on greatness.  Sometimes, I think I almost get it right.  I could save every post, not publish anything until I do get it right, but then you would have nothing for a very long time.

So, if I don’t say it great, if I don’t say it right, why do I keep talking?

Often, in discouragement, I do quit talking.  I feel that no one would miss my words, no one would miss me, but that isn’t true.  We often listen to the accuser pointing out each misspoken syllable, every poorly chosen word.

My voice is not the only voice you should listen to.  My heart is not the only one you should feel.  At the end of the day, with all the voices that shout for our attention, I would hope that you hear most the voice of God.  And He speaks so often through His people.

He’s there in the traffic noise, in the bustle of life.  He’s there in the sermons but, also in the touch of our hands, the songs that we sing, the day we live out.

You won’t get it “right” either.  We are flawed, broken people.  What we will say is flawed, broken, too.  But, speak anyway.  Don’t be afraid to speak out, to live out for all to see.  What is seen and heard in our humanity yielded to Jesus is life.  What is revealed is God’s glory.