On Fridays, Lisa Jo hosts a Linky. Write for five minutes flat. No editing. No rewriting.
The voices I heard tonight were beautiful. Words scribbled on Macbooks, iPods, smartphones, even regular old paper . . . And read by brave women into a microphone to a room full of strangers.
But not really strangers.
The words poured over me and flowed like the tears I cried all the way here this afternoon. Driving and crying and praising on the highway.
I have raised my voice in different ways today . . . lifted it in praise through tears and shaky faith. Smiled to meet new faces. Faces I’ve seen in thumbnail-sized avatars became life-sized and three-dimensional. Faces I’ve never seen, but watched closely as they voiced words of wisdom and life and compassion.
And now I put my voice into words on the page once again.
Breaking the silence of my bittersweet autumn.
So there you have it, folks. Sorry to be cryptic, but it's all I got right now.