Long, wavy, air-dried hair hangs down her back, causing a lump to rise in my throat over how grateful I am for her to be my daughter. She reminds me of myself in so many ways, yet much more refined she is, much more gracious and gentle. I catch her making notes, doodles, squiggles. She writes me short letters, reminders, and lists.
Watching her takes me back to a time when my own long locks hung in waves down my back as I sat at my childhood desk, brown veneered, drawers packed to overflowing, top bursting with my own notes, doodles, and squiggles.
I remember dreaming of wanting to write. Not just when I grew up, but then, even as a young, knobby kneed girl, my heart scribbled out diary entries, magazine articles, family newsletters. My heart has always been poured out on paper, unknowing then that I was created to express my worship through words, sometimes spoken, daily written.
Gentle whispers have marked my life for as long as I can remember. The desire to write came as a gentle, loving whisper that inspired beauty and possibility, pouring courage into my soul to know that my words mattered, to believe that I could change the world by letting others into my world of words. I would believe the whispers and resolve to make a living creating newsletters, by inviting others into my life, by shining a bit of light into someone else’s day.
But then, a different gentle whisper would come and steal that resolve. I would hear just how ridiculous it was to think that my words mattered, how utterly stupid and naive I must be to think I had anything important to say or that I could really write newsletters that anyone would read. The whispers would kill my desire to pour out my heart on paper, the enemy has always been out to destroy the unique way I was crafted to express my worship to God.
You too, knitted together with precision and care, were created to worship. I know not your unique form of expression, but I do know without a doubt that you’ve heard the gentle whispers of the enemy who comes to steal, kill, and destroy.
I’m here to encourage you to battle those lies with the truth of the One who calls us to be still and know that He is God. I’m here to hold up your arms when you’re weak and remind you to take Him at His word, to hope against all hope, to keep your eyes on Jesus.
Welcome to Gentle Whispers by Jennifer Kindle. I feel closest to God when I'm piecing together words ... both on paper and in my own head … and I feel closest to God’s people when we share what He is up to in our own lives.
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